“Nah, we both know I’m Batman. You were always the sidekick. And, I’m more Spiderman anyway.” He shrugs as if it’s obvious.
“Of course you are,” I mutter.
“Seriously, though, no one followed me. I have no way of being tracked. I’m not a dumb-arse.”
“I know, I know,” I concede when he gives me a disappointed look. “I just… I need her fucking safe, man. The thought of the Italians getting a hold of her…” Fear so fucking strong grips me in its unyielding claws just from the thought alone. I’m more than aware of the things I’ve done to their men, and it fucking terrifies me, thinking about how they might retaliate with my girl.
“It won’t happen,” Alex states confidently. “I know you’d die over letting them take her. And that ain’t fucking happening either.”
I nod, unable to find a response to that. While everyone else around me seemed to doubt and question my skills and ability at every turn, Alex never has. I always just assumed that was because he heard everything that was said to me and he felt the need to try to smother some of it with his own differing opinion. And while I know some of that might be true, I also know that he sees more in me. If nothing else, he encouraged me to at least try every time someone tried to write me off.
“How did you find out about this, anyway? You weren’t meant to be working, yet you turned up with the juiciest intel?”
I look between my twin and my girl, the truth bubbling up on my lips.
“You can trust me, Bro. With this,” he says, gesturing between the two of us, “and with whatever went down. I’ve got your backs. Both of you.”
“Calli was seeing Antonio Santoro,” I say quietly.
“What?” Alex roars, making Calli fidget in my lap as he wakes her.
“Bro, seriously?” I mutter.
“Sorry.”
He waits with a million and one questions right on the tip of his tongue until she’s settled once more and I give him a nod.
“She was seeing Antonio Santoro,” he parrots.
“Yeah. Has been since she met him at that party last year.”
“Jesus.” He scrubs his hand down his face as he processes that little nugget of information. “How the hell did you find out?”
I blow out a breath, really not wanting to go back there. “The night we raided their warehouse, I found her in his bedroom.”
Alex’s chin drops. “That’s where you fucked off to that night,” he whispers, like it all makes sense. “And why you shot him.”
“That was an accident. It was meant to be his head.”
Alex holds my eyes. “That’s bullshit, right here.”
“What? That I should have blown his fucking head off? Unlikely.”
“You don’t have accidents with guns, D. You want someone dead, you make it happen. You chose not to because of her.”
“Yeah, okay, maybe,” I concede, knowing damn well that it’s true. “Anyway, it’s a fucking good job I didn’t, because he was the one who came to tell me that they’d put a hit out on her.” His brows lift. “So we beat them to it.”
“H-he knows you’re here?”
“Yeah,” I force out. “He won’t squeal. He cares about her.” I wince.
“Wow, Bro. You’re putting her safety in the hands of an Italian. She has fucking changed you.”
“Trust me, I know what you’re saying. And any other Italian wouldn’t stand a chance. But the way he looks at her, man. Fuck.” My heart rips in two just thinking about the love that was in his eyes, the agony oozing from him as he said goodbye to her.
“And how does she feel about him?”
My lips part to respond, but I quickly find that I have no words.