He stares at me as I settle into the blood soaked table. I grab the glass of wine sitting in front of me and tip it down my throat.
“What the fuck did you just do?”
I slam the glass back on the table and notice that there are bloody fingerprints all over the glass. I’ll have to wipe those later.
“You fucked me over, I fuck you over.”
“What are you talking about?” His face is blank, but his eyes burn with malice.
Piece of shit.
“I should smash in your fat fucking head for what you did to me. I know about Adriana.”
Tony holds his hands up to placate me and that makes me grin. He looks surprised. None of them ever took me seriously.
I’ll bet you do now, you fat fuck.
“Carmine, think about this.”
“I’ve thought about it a lot, actually. What your face would look like when I shove my gun in your mouth.”
“What’s your plan, huh?” he snaps. “How the fuck do you think you’re going to get away with this.”
“Well, I just killed all your captains, Tone. After I kill you,” I shrug. “I don’t fucking care if I live. I just want to see your blood all over the floor.”
His face whitens. “Carmine, let me go and I promise I won’t go after you. I already covered up your mother’s death for you—”
Nothing passes by me.
“You were saving your fucking fat ass as much as you were saving mine. Don’t lie to me.”
Tony slams his fist into the table and I almost shoot him.
“Fine!” he screams. “I knew you were ratting us out to the cops and I wanted you to do something stupid—something that would get your ass in jail, so I sent that girl after you.”
He seizes a butter knife on the table.
“You think I’m fucking stupid, don’t you?”
The nozzle of the gun wavers in his face. Tony can’t keep his eyes off it.
“No, I don’t—”
He’d say anything to save his ass.
“I was trying to get that piece of shit Cesare in jail—to get rid of him! Isn’t that what you wanted, you stupid fuck?”
Tony flinches from my voice. “Please put the gun down.”
“No.”
I shove the chair back when I stand up, keeping the gun trained on Tony’s face.
“Any last words?”
He lowers his hands. “Yeah, fuck you.”
Tony dives to the floor as I open fire. I step to the side and see the fat fuck curled on the floor, three neat holes in his back. He reaches for his gun and slips in his own blood. His head bursts into meaty fragments as I aim and fire.
Fucking asshole.
The deafening shots make my ears ring and only when Tony’s face is mauled beyond recognition do I stop firing.
A wailing song outside sends a jolt through my heart.
Time to leave.
It’s only when I stand in the doorway and look back on the carnage that I appreciate the magnitude of what I just did. I’ve butchered the Rizzo family. Technically, as the only captain still alive, that would make me the boss.
Too bad I can’t stay here.
But what if I did?
I run across the street, almost tripping over Furio’s body as I jump into my car. The lights from the street barely illuminate his body. I can almost imagine what the inside would look like in daylight, beautiful, bright red splatter all over the walls, which would turn brown as it dried.
I couldn’t become the boss of New Jersey, not without supporters.
I wrench open the door and slide inside the car seat, my blood still boiling. It was immensely satisfying to see that prick die, but the joy seemed to run right through me.
I’m still alone. By morning, I’ll be facing murder charges when Adriana tells the cops what happened.
My hand turns the key in the ignition, an ugly flush filling my cheeks.
Down the street, I see something strange. A woman walking with an older woman’s gait. The yellow light from the street burns her face, which twists in that hateful look I know so well.
Mom?
Holy fuck, she’s supposed to be dead.
She seems to spot me cowering in the car and then rushes forward, her hand rising with a kitchen knife.
“Come here, Carmine! You little shit! I’ll stab you in the eye!”
“FUCK!”
I yank the wheel to the left and floor it, my right headlight smashing into the car parked in front of me. Then I burn a red light as my heart pounds so hard that the blood rush makes me dizzy.
She’s still there. How does she still exist?
A weak, powerless feeling overcomes me. I thought that if I killed her, she would be purged from my mind. The torture and the self-blaming would finally stop.
Maybe it’s because she’s alive. Adriana.
I thought she was the woman of my dreams; the girl who would finally replace my mother. I shouldn’t have wanted that, because it is exactly what she did. She replaced my mother, a continuation of my torture.
That cunt used me. Tried to have me killed.
So I’ll kill her.
ADRIANA
It’s thirteen years ago and I’m kneeling beside my dad as a growing pool of blood spreads underneath him.
“No, please. Wake up, wake up!”
Vince—my dad, lays still. His mouth moves soundlessly, his eyes still closed. Tears from my face splash on his cheeks, and he flinches.
Save him. Get to the phone.
I stumble over his legs in a panic to rip the phone from the wall. I dial the numbers and wait until a voice clicks.
“9-1-1 what’s your emerg—”
“He’s been shot,” I yell into the phone. “Twice. Please, get here quickly.”
“What’s your address?”
I scream into the phone. “I don’t know!” I just want to scream at the pointlessness of it all. No matter what I do, someone I love gets hurt.
“Ma’am calm down. Look for some mail and tell me the address.”
“For mail?” I ask stupidly, not comprehending.
“There may be an address on an envelope—”
I look around wildly, searching for something, anything while Vincent dies on the floor.
Fuck, he’s dying. He’s going to die unless I do something!
Mail!
There are envelopes sitting on the kitchen counter and I dive for them, reading the address to her.
“Please stay on the line. They’re coming.”
I drop the phone so that it hangs from the wall and I return to Vince. I rip open his jacket and bunch his shirt over the gunshot wound in his chest, trying to stem the flow. His face screws up in pain and a small breath shudders from his lips.
“Vince, Vince. Stay with me.”
The door slams open, scaring the shit out of me. I think of Carmine, who must be coming back to kill us, but instead paramedics rush inside the dingy, dark apartment with a stretcher.
I stand aside as they work quickly, padding his wounds and lifting him onto the stretcher. I follow it out the door and climb into the ER vehicle with them. I sit down near his feet as they cut away his clothes. Every moan he makes, every painful groan cuts me right down to my soul. The pressure inside my throat builds up and I keep swallowing my tears down, refusing to lose it. The only reason I don’t is because I’ve got it in my head that he needs me to be calm. I grab hold of his leg and squeeze him, feeling his warmth behind the thin fabric.
There’s no way in hell that Vince will succumb to this. He’s always been so strong. Impenetrable. Seeing him laid out like this turns my world upside down.
“Is he going to be okay?”
They ignore me. The paramedic slips on a stethoscope and rattles off his blood pressure. Another inserts a line into his arm.
The next few minutes are spent in agonizing silence, punctuated occasionally by Vincent, whose painful moans make me ball my hands into fists.
; “It’s going to be okay, Vince,” I keep repeating. “It’ll be okay!”
The van screeches to a halt and I move aside as the doors fly open. They whisk him away and I climb down, following them as my heart beats in my throat. I jog near his head and try to hold his hand. His bare chest looks pale under the harsh lights of the hospital, the bright red blood swathing his side like a stroke of a giant paintbrush.
Tears choke my throat. “Vince. Vince, it’ll be okay. It’ll be all right!”
Please be all right.
The paramedic stops me from following them further when we go inside. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to stay here. He needs surgery.”
“Oh, God.” I cup my mouth and watch hopelessly as they disappear behind the double doors.
“The doctor will update you.”
He places a warm hand on my shoulder as tears finally flood over my cheeks. I wipe my face and notice that there’s blood all over my hands.
* * *
The hospital waiting room is so bright that I can barely keep my eyes open. It’s as if they’re designed to be as uncomfortable as possible while you agonize about your loved one.
It keeps playing over and over in my mind.
The vicious look on Carmine’s face when he raises his gun at me. Blue eyes narrowed in jealousy. He wanted me and Vince dead. I sit up straight and look around, suddenly fearful, but the room is deserted except for two other people.
A young couple sits across the room. He pulls her onto his lap and they kiss passionately, as if they’re in a private room. They look content just to be in each other’s arms. Like they don’t need anything else. He saved me.
He threw himself over my body to catch the bullet that was meant for me.
Now, he might be dying.
“Hey, Adriana.”
A familiar voice makes me lift my head. A short, Italian man stands in front of me, looking aghast.
“Nicky.”
I stand up and he gives me a fierce hug. The pain from everything boils over and sobs shake from my chest. Behind him, I see Jack, Paulie and the rest of Vince’s crew, standing at a respectable distance.
“Vince is in surgery right now.”
Hours ago, I watched as they wheeled Vince’s body into emergency surgery. One bullet hit his shoulder; the other sank into his chest.
Nicky squeezes me. “Vince is a tough guy. He’ll be all right.”
“You have to find Carmine,” I beg him. “He’s going to come after us again.”
“We will.”
A surge of hatred rises in my chest. “Please tell me that you’ll make him suffer.”
I almost forgot that the piece of shit murdered Dad. He had the balls to come into my life, when he knew the entire time who I was and what he’d done to my family. For years I wondered what my life would’ve been like if Dad lived. He might’ve curbed my mother’s behavior and maybe I wouldn’t be a fucking alcoholic. Maybe I wouldn’t have panic attacks or nightmares.
Fuck him.
Vince was the one who helped me through it all. A fresh wave of tears spills over my cheeks as I draw breath sharply. He saved me, but I couldn’t save him.
“We’ll try,” he says softly, patting my back. “Listen, the cops will be here soon. You can’t tell them anything.”
“I—I won’t.”
He pulls back and gives me a small smile, and then Jack joins us. For the first time since I met him, he looks shaken.
“I wish he told us where he was headed. We could have backed him up.”
“Don’t blame yourself. Carmine kidnapped me from his house. I think when he saw that I wasn’t there, he went straight to Carmine’s house and—” my chest tightens and I can’t continue. “Please find him.”
“We will, hon. I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry about everything.”
He slides an arm around my shoulder and squeezes me.
A pair of cops enter the waiting room and make a beeline towards us. Jack tenses at my side and I inhale deeply, preparing to fend off their questions.
“Adriana Baldino? We’d like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.”
A police officer with a concerned look on his face addresses me and I nod at him. Nicky, Paulie, and all the others watch me carefully.
“We know that you made the 9-1-1 call from 3654 Monument Boulevard, and there were reports of shots being fired in the household. We wanted to get your witness statement.”
“A man came in the house and shot me and Vincent. I don’t know what he looks like.”
“Ma’am,” he begins impatiently. “We need more information. Do you know the whereabouts of Carmine Lucchesi? Was he the shooter?”
I blink at him and shrug my shoulders. His gaze slides to Jack instead and pulls photographs from inside his jacket. The photographs clearly show Carmine entering a restaurant.
“Do you know this man? Do you know where he is?”
Jack smiles and shrugs his shoulders.
The officer gives us all an extremely frustrated look. “Don’t you want to help your friend? We’re trying to find the man who did this.”
But after a few minutes of silence, he stuffs the photographs back under his arm and turns around to leave.
“They’ll be back, Ade. No matter what, keep your mouth shut. This is for Vince’s sake, too.”
We all turn around when we see a man in a white coat and blue scrubs leave the double doors and approach us.
Oh my fucking God he’s coming towards us.
I search his face desperately for any hint of an emotion. Does he look sad? Wary? Happy? The doctor’s face is decidedly neutral.
“Are you Adriana Baldino?”
I hold my breath, as if anything I say might blow him away. “Yes.”
“Vincent is out of surgery and he’s in stable condition. Both bullets missed vital organs and I don’t expect there to be any nerve damage to his arm. He’s a very, very lucky man. There’s still a risk for infection, so he’ll need to be on antibiotics for a while.”
Jack squeezes my shoulder. “Thanks, doc.”
I can’t speak. I feel far away.
“You can visit him in a little bit. The nurse will let you know.”
He smiles at us and walks away, and I’m left reeling.
“Did you hear that? He’s going to be fine!” He shakes my shoulder.
He’s going to be fine.
I heard, but I don’t really believe it. Tension loosens from my shoulders and I slump in Jack’s arms, suddenly exhausted.
We follow the nurse into the room half an hour later, with me fighting the urge not to sprint ahead of her. I have to see that he’s all right. Will he hate me for all the shit I’ve dragged him into?
The moment I see his dark head propped on pillows, his eyes alert and awake, I burst into tears. The weight of the last few hours was unbearable, and keeping my emotions firmly stamped down was even harder. He smiles at me from the bed and I take a seat near his head, looking at all the tubes attached to him. His right hand holds a button to the morphine drip, which he periodically clicks on. A glaze covers both of his eyes. He looks exhausted, but fine.
He really is fine.
“Hey,” he croaks out.
“I was so worried.” I take his hand in mine and tears slip down my face when he smiles at me. The broad, confident smile I’m so used to is weakened somewhat, but it’s still him. He’s unbreakable.
“I told you not to worry about me,” he says in a slightly slurred voice. “Fuck, this shit is so good.”
Jack approaches the bed. “Hey, tough guy.”
Vince’s eyes fly open again. “Jack, Carmine is still out there. You can’t let her leave.”
I rub his bare arm. “I won’t. I’m staying here with you.”
“We’re on it, Vince. You just rest.”
He fights to keep his eyes open. “I won’t rest until he’s dead.”
* * *
Fingers play with my hair, smoothing the
strands over my face. It tickles and I smile. Opening my eyes, I see Vincent wide-awake on the hospital bed, the glaze gone from his eyes. Brilliant sunshine streams in through the blinds.
“Kiss me.”
He speaks with that same undeniable authority that he had the moment I met him. His eyes blaze as I lean over the bed carefully and give him a quick peck on his lips. When I pull away, his eyebrows are furrowed.
“What was that?”
“Vince, you were just shot. I don’t want to hurt you.”
His arm lifts to my face and sweeps around my head, and then he pulls me closer so that his lips crush against mine. His feverish lips kiss me over and over until I feel lightheaded, and when he lets go it’s only because he needs to breathe.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” A smile twitches on my face.
“I just want to get out of here. I hate hospitals.”
“The doctor might discharge you tonight. I don’t know how, but you didn’t get any nerve or bone damage. It’s a miracle.”
For some reason, at the sound of my words his face falls. He looks depressed. What did I say?
He speaks slowly. “It’s a miracle you aren’t dead. He got you in my own house. In my own fucking house. I don’t think I can ever forgive myself.”
Those passionate, wide eyes that I love so much are wet. He closes his eyes as if in pain.
I take his head in my hand and I stroke his hair. “You saved me. If it weren’t for you, who knows what would’ve happened to me.”
“If I wasn’t in your life, you wouldn’t have gone through any of this shit. I feel so fucking guilty for everything that’s happened to you.”
I squeeze his hand hard. “Vince, I wasn’t happy before you. I had no one who cared about me. Now I have you, and yes, it hasn’t been a quiet ride, but at least we have each other. Because of you, I know who murdered my dad. That means so much to me.”
My voice is thick with tears. His eyes flare open and his hand suddenly clenches over mine.
“I don’t feel good about it. He’s out there biding his fucking time, and we’re sitting ducks in here.”
“Vince, he can’t get us in a hospital.”
“Are you basing that on the fact that he has a normal, healthy brain? He’s a fucking lunatic who was obsessed with your mother, and now he’s obsessed with you.”
Double Blind (Vittorio Crime Family #2) Page 20
