“Sure,” Adamo said. He picked up the fork and began eating. “It’s good.”
“I’m glad you like it.” I looked at the bluish marks over his ribs, his swollen cheekbone, the burnt eye of his Camorra tattoo. “I’m sure Nino can fix it somehow.”
Adamo glanced up then followed my gaze. “No, it’ll serve as a reminder.”
I nodded, even though I doubted he needed the additional reminder of what had happened. He’d see it in his dream for a long time. The past was a difficult enemy to beat.
“I never got what it meant to feel helpless,” he said when he was done eating, looking at me with angry eyes. “I was in their hands and they could do to me whatever they wanted. I was at their mercy.”
Bile traveled up my throat when I remembered that feeling, being at the mercy of another.
“Sorry,” Adamo mumbled.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m done running from the past. I’m strong enough to bear it.”
Adamo nodded. “I never want to feel helpless again. I never will let it come that far again.” Adamo glared down at his tattoo. “I always thought my brothers were full of shit for insisting I work out and fight as much as possible. I thought they were trying to be annoying, to show me who was boss—even after the Outfit attacked Roger’s Arena and tried to kill us all, I didn’t get it, not really, because my brothers were there to protect me. They always were. All my life they protected me. They had to, because I was weak, because I didn’t want to own up to what I was.”
“You were a child.”
“But I’m not anymore,” Adamo said harshly. “And even back then I could have been stronger if I tried. Remo and Nino had already fought for their lives when they were kids, and even Savio understood what it took to survive. He got what it took to make sure we all survived. But I didn’t because I didn’t want to, and because of that, because of my selfishness, Remo is going to die, and I won’t ever forgive myself for that. Neither will Nino, Savio and Fabiano.”
I touched Adamo’s hand. “Of course, they will.”
“They shouldn’t!” he roared, startling me so much I got to my feet, away from his fury.
Adamo stared at me with wide, anguished eyes, then he dropped his head and began to laugh softly, shaking his head. “Just go, Kiara. Go.”
“Try to get some sleep, Adamo. Your body and mind have been through a lot. You need time to heal. Give yourself the time.”
Adamo didn’t react, and I couldn’t see his face because his hair hid it from my view. Before I walked out, I turned to him once more. “Remo won’t die. He just won’t.”
I closed the door, then leaned against it and closed my eyes, allowing tears to fall.
I cleaned the entire house and cooked several batches of cookies and muffins, everyone’s favorite dish, then put everything in the two new freezers in the basement. Picking up a dish towel, I began drying the baking sheets I’d cleaned.
The door to the kitchen swung open and Fabiano walked in, his expression caught between shock and relief.
“What is it?”
“Nino sent me a message.”
I dropped everything and walked toward Fabiano, shaking with fear.
“Serafina contacted him. She claims she got Remo out.”
“He’s alive?”
Fabiano nodded slowly, looking almost hypnotized. “It seems so. I don’t know the details. I don’t know anything really. Nino’s message was short, to the point as usual, and he didn’t reply when I asked for more info.”
Could it really be? Had Serafina helped Remo? But how?
“Should we tell Adamo?”
Fabiano shook his head. “He’s unstable. If Serafina lied and this turns out to be some sort of twisted trap, I don’t want to get his hopes up, only to crush them later.”
He was right but Adamo needed to see the light at the end of the tunnel, needed it more than anyone else. Still I nodded. I had my cell on the kitchen table, in case Nino tried to contact me. He would be focused on a mission and only contacted Fabiano to give us the details we needed. That was just who Nino was. He’d never waste time for messaging or phone calls if there was an important task ahead.
Fabiano, Leona and I sat on the sofa in the gaming room, not talking, waiting, always waiting.
“You knew Serafina better than all of us, do you really think she saved Remo?” Leona asked Fabiano. She’d been trying to read a book for her classes but I could tell that she was too distracted, like the rest of us. I’d been counting the seconds since Fabiano had told me about Serafina and Remo. The more attention I paid to the time, the slower it passed.
Fabiano pinched the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted. “Fuck, if I know. I knew her as a kid. She was good at getting her will and she was loyal. But getting Remo out of Cavallaro’s torture chamber and into safety?”