“She was a threat,” Angelo said simply. “Have you forgotten who we are? Has it been too long since we smelled death?”
“You killed her?”
Angelo did not reply, and Bobby did not give him any chance to anyway.
“You were just talking about having a baby here,” Bobby reminded him. “What’s the kid going to play with, shell casings?”
Angelo glowered at him. The boy had never had a single problem with violence before. Being lectured by Bobby about shooting someone was like having a kangaroo lay a formal complaint re: bouncing. Gemma was having an effect on his boy, and he was absolutely not sure he liked it.
“Even for you, that was fucked up. She was a woman!”
“A woman who was hunting our child like a vulture,” Angelo said. “A woman who could have avoided this by leaving us alone. A woman who pulled a gun on me, need I remind you?”
“I know, but still….”
“Have you forgotten how to cover up a body, boy?”
“No,” Bobby sighed. “Let me get Gemma settled back in her room first. She’s going to flip the fuck out about this.”
“She will do nothing of the kind as long as you remain calm,” Angelo said. “Let her believe Willow is gone. She needs to be relieved of that burden.”
“Is that a good idea…”
“It’s an order, boy. Do I need to remind you what order is?”
“No,” Bobby said, his eyes narrowed. Angelo could see fresh rebellion brewing in his boy. This was the other side of the coin of responsibility. If you wanted someone to obey you completely, they needed to be dependent. The second they started to take responsibility for someone, even themselves, they started to become disobedient. But Angelo had ways and means of reminding his boy precisely who he belonged to.
Chapter 6
“She’s dead. Isn’t she. He shot her, and now she’s dead. Oh my god.”
“Breathe,” Bobby said in the most soothing tone he could muster.
Gemma was hyperventilating. He didn’t know if Willow was dead or not. He did know that Angelo’s doctor’s vehicle had just slid past the window like a black cloud. That could mean they were patching her up, or it could mean that she was headed for the morgue.
“He shot her. He just…”
“Try not to think about it. There’s nothing you can do about it now.”
“Bobby. He killed her, didn’t he?”
“I…” Bobby shut up, as Angelo had instructed him. Besides, there was no way of proving that she wasn’t dead. There had been a lot of blood. A whole lot of blood. “Just try and get some rest, okay?”
“Her blood is on me.” Gemma started to freak out. “My friend’s blood is on me!”
Her shriek went right through Bobby. He wanted to help her so badly, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing could change what had happened or erase what she had seen.
He led her to the bathroom and helped take her bloody clothes off. He started the shower, and when he’d peeled off the last garment clinging to her body, he put her in it.
“No…” she resisted, just for the sake of resisting. She didn’t want to go along with anything. He could feel the tension in every part of her body. She started to shake as she went into shock.
He’d seen a lot of people be shot. He’d seen her shot. He’d been pulled away from her side in a hail of gunfire and mourned every minute he thought he’d lost her. He understood what was happening inside her, and he knew how painful it was.
When she would not move, even naked, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her into the shower. He was still fully dressed, but that didn’t matter. His clothes were instantly soaked. He didn’t want to get naked, probably distract and traumatize her all the more, or make her think he wanted something from her besides just to comfort her.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, knowing that it was a platitude but having nothing else in his arsenal. He was not used to trying to make people feel good, and he was not very good at it.
It took several long minutes for her to start to soften. She was locked up so hard, clenched in on herself in what would have been a fetal position if she wasn’t standing up.
“He’s a monster,” she whispered between gritted teeth.
“He is,” Bobby agreed. “He always has been, and he always will be.”
“But he seemed….”
“No monster is evil all the time. But Angelo’s not even evil. He’s practical above everything else. He does what he needs to do. And sometimes that makes him seem like an absolute fucking devil.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re defending him.”
“I’m not. I’m trying to explain so you can get used to what living here is really like. You came here thinking we were one thing….”