He disappears around the corner toward the staircase and I have to wait ten breathless seconds for him to appear at the base of the building again.
He walks past the cars and onto the sidewalk. He’s coming closer and I stare and stare, heart racing in my chest. He turns to the side as he passes, looking left, then right, and I catch a single glimpse of his face.
It’s Rinaldo.
I found the little rat bastard and he’s really here, right here, still in Phoenix.
He’s either more insane than I thought or he truly has a death wish.
Possibly both.
My stomach twists into ropes of anxiety and I grab my door handle, ready to jump out and run him down. I can catch him, right here and now, kill him in the street and be done with this—
But if I do that, Don Bruno will send Karah away.
Rinaldo is the only thing keeping her here.
I watch Rinaldo disappear across the street and I have seconds before I need to decide.
Chase him and end this. Or let him go and keep Karah around.
Fuck, this is wrong. There’s an obvious, morally right choice. I need to run out there and make sure Rinaldo can’t hurt anyone ever again, especially not Karah.
But then I’d lose her forever.
There’d be nothing keeping her here, nothing pinning her to Phoenix.
No more beautiful body by the pool. No more angry glares. No more shoe girl.
I know I’ve fallen to a new low when I put the Rover in drive and head toward Villa Bruno.
I’ll keep an eye on Rinaldo. Now that I know where he’s staying, I can stake out the motel and make sure he doesn’t do something stupid. If he moves to a new location, I’ll keep on him. I won’t let him slip away.
This means working double time, but it doesn’t matter. If I’m going to keep Rinaldo a secret so Karah doesn’t get thrown to the Russian wolves, I have to do this all on my own.
Casso takes a long sip from his whiskey. “I hear some shit went down with you and my sister the other night.”
I grimace as I slide the pool cue back and slam it forward. I knock a ball into the corner pocket and line up my next shot.
“Nothing new there.”
“Rumors say you cornered Karah in the women’s room.” He says it with a smile but there’s an undercurrent of malice in his voice.
“Rumors aren’t always right.”
“What’s going on with you two? I thought you would’ve married her by now.”
“She’s finding someone else.”
Casso lets out a long sigh. “God damn it, Nico. Why do you always fuck this stuff up?”
I miss my shot and the ball bounces wide. I glare at Casso as he steps up to take his turn. My whiskey is cool on the way down and warms my stomach.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re a prick.” Casso makes a shot and moves on to the next, chalking his cue as he goes. “Especially when it comes to women. Have you ever slept with the same girl twice in a row?”
“No. And don’t pretend like you have.”
“That’s true, but I’m the Don’s son. I get a little leeway.” He grins as he makes another shot, the arrogant bastard.
“I don’t get why you’d even want me to marry your sister. You know I’m a piece of shit.”
“You’d be good to her. I have no doubt about that. When you’re loyal to someone, you’re loyal to the death.” He misses his next shot and curses in Italian.
I clench my jaw and stare at the table and its jumble of balls.
Loyalty. He doesn’t know a thing about my loyalty. All he knows is what I’ve shown him, but I’ve kept my real intentions hidden for years.
My heart is closed and locked.
The rot and blackness there are shielded away.
If he had any clue what I really wanted, he’d kill me here and now.
“Karah’s a big girl, Casso. She can handle herself.” I make a shot and crack my neck before lining up the next one. “Sometimes you guys act like you forget she’s an actual living adult.”
“Ah, don’t give me that shit. You know how the Famiglia works. If anything, the boys and I are all on her side, and Papa’s the one that’s trying to get rid of her.”
I miss my shot and step aside.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. Things with your sister are complicated and I doubt anything will happen there, okay?”
He makes three shots in quick succession for the win and leans against the table, grinning. I take a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet and toss it down.
“Double or nothing?” I ask.
He shrugs and chalks his cue. “Listen, I want to tell you something. But you’re not supposed to know this.”
“I can keep my mouth shut.”