As we leave the room after a few more minutes of discussion, Al lingers, putting a hand on my shoulder to keep me another second after everyone leaves. “Brother killing brother is just another day in the Life,” he says. “You seemed a little shaken in there. It’s just business, son.”
“I know.”
“Good,” he says. “You’ve had enough excitement for tonight. Go home to your wife.”
“Thank you.”
He gives me a long, shrewd look. “Is that going better?”
“Yes,” I say. And then, because he’s the only person I can talk to about this, I stay a minute longer. “Can I ask your advice about something?”
“Sure,” he says. “Does this need a drink?”
“Thanks,” I say as he pours a couple glasses of whiskey from a decanter on the liquor cart in the corner. “What would you do if someone hurt the person you’re supposed to take care of, but that person doesn’t want you to do anything about it?”
Al nods slowly, sinking back down into his chair and leaning back, swirling the liquor in his glass and watching me. “I don’t know all the details, and I’m guessing I’m not going to get them, so it’s hard to say,” he says. “But forgiveness is a personal matter, King. If someone chooses that over revenge, that’s their way. You might not choose the same for yourself, but you can’t stop someone else from choosing it.”
“I don’t think she chose forgiveness,” I say. “She’s held onto it all this time, and she’s starting to deal with it, but she hasn’t chosen either revengeorforgiveness. She’s just living in it.”
“Then I’d say you’re doing the right thing by waiting for her to decide,” he says. “When the time is right, she’ll choose what she wants to do. If you get revenge for her before she’s made that choice, she might never forgiveyou. And I was married long enough to know that’s not something you want in the bed between you.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “Thanks for the advice. And your trust in me.”
“You’ve done well so far,” he says. “As long as you keep giving me no reason to doubt you, you’ll get along just fine.”
I think of Little Al, about how much it must hurt to be betrayed by your own family—and not just far extended family or people who work for you, but your own grandson, whom you’ve groomed to take your place. Uncle Al may not show it, but he’s got to hate that. Which means if I want to show my loyalty to him, I have to kill the guy who betrayed him.
I thought pulling the trigger on a stranger would be the hardest thing I’d ever have to do, but this is so much harder. I don’t hate Little Al. And he’s not a stranger whose face I can pretend I don’t see when I can’t sleep at night. He’s a friend. I don’t know how in the hell I’m going to go through with it. I’ll find a way, though. It’s time to put what I’ve learned to use. This is my first true test. This will make or break me, put me in a grave or maybe in Uncle Al’s inner circle. And more than that, it’ll prove something to myself. I need to know if I can survive this life when it’s not just easy jobs, or if I choke in crunch time. Time to prove that I can do the right thing even when it’s hard.
There’s no easy way out on this one. The mafia rules are clear. He violated them. He knew the risks, the consequences. Those are clear, too. It may have been my job to worry about my partner’s life when we were working side by side, but he’s not my partner anymore. He’s the fallen heir to this empire. He chose where to put his loyalty, and I choose where to put mine. He made his bed, and it’s my job to make sure he sleeps in it—permanently.
twenty
Eliza
“What’s wrong?” I ask King, sliding a hand over his cheek. He’s lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, the same as he’s done for the past three nights. I don’t think the guy ever sleeps.
He gives me a distracted smile and covers my hand with his. “Nothing.”
“Talk to me,” I plead, snuggling up next to him. “You can tell me anything.”
“It’s not you,” he says. “It’s just… Work stuff. The less you know about that, the better.”
“King,” I say. “I know all about your job, the families, the Life. I know you want to protect me, but you don’t have to do that.”
“But I want to,” he says, turning his face toward me. “I’m your husband. It’s my job to protect you. And I couldn’t do that when you needed it most.”
“You didn’t even know me then,” I point out.
“But I want to do something for you now,” he says. “Maybe we can go find her. I have an uncle on the force, and one who’s a lawyer. I can find her, Eliza. I can make her pay for what she did.”
I swallow hard. I don’t know if I’m ready for that. But I know I have to figure out a way to move on, and I don’t know if I can do that without seeing her at least once. Do I want revenge, though? I’m not sure what I want from her, which means I’m sure I don’t want to see her. Not yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to confront her, if I’d be able to handle it.
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
King turns back to stare at the ceiling again. “What about your brother?”
“He’s dead.”