DanteI sit in an armchair I dragged into the master bedroom in my safehouse upstate, watching Dr. Fletcher and his nurse tend to El. She looks so small in the bed, the hollows of her cheeks sunken and her hair lank. Not seriously injured, the EMT said. Still, I’m thrilled I had enough time to hire Fletcher and the nurse before the raid. They’re discreet, professional, and fast. They talk to each other in snippets of conversation that give me the barest hint of what’s going on.“Saline. Her veins are shrunken.”“Heart rate elevated, but not dangerously.”“That laceration is likely infected. We need penicillin and a disinfectant.”I don’t dare interrupt them. I can’t imagine stealing a second Eleni might need to get better. Tear streaks mark her face, and she was already crying when I got in the ambulance. In the end, Camila had her in that fucking house for two weeks. Two goddamn weeks. I am counting my blessings she’s not in more danger, but I’m fucking terrified.Tony leans in the d
EleniI blink awake to something warm on my face. My stomach grumbles threateningly around its emptiness, and I start to sit up to find the bedpan.Something restrains my left arm. Two somethings. I turn slowly in the sun-drenched bed, fighting for enough memories to put together where I am. The first something is Dante, slumped in an armchair from the living room of the safehouse upstate but still holding onto my hand. He looks actually, properly relaxed, his brow unlined for once. The sun sparkles off something in our entwined hands, and for a heart-racing moment, I think he found my engagement ring. But no, he’s slipped his ring onto my thumb, where it barely fits. Tears fill my eyes as I manage a wobbly smile.The second something is an IV full of clear liquid. Unlabeled bag. My arm aches—everything does—but I feel steadier than I have in ages. Like sleep actually refreshed me. I can even tell someone did something to my mouth because it tastes minty fresh instead of like old vom
Tony“Check on the fucking capos,” I mutter under the music as I soar down the Verrazano Bridge in the dead of night. “Call them back. Check in with Cal fucking Duncan. Take out my goddamn laundry while I play house upstate. I’m the don, don’t forget.”In my mind, I hear Seb’s response. You sound like a cranky toddler, Tony. You two love each other. He’s dealing with a lot. You’ll be back to normal in no time.“He’s dealing with a lot?” I demand. “I’m talking to my dead fucking brother in my mind as I drive to meet the head of the Irish Kings.”The Seb in my mind only shrugs. I win a lot more arguments since—I crank the music to drown out my thoughts.After weaving through city traffic, I pull up in front of McCreegan’s Pub and leave the music blaring for a few extra seconds. May as well give the little dick something to complain about. Then, I shut off the car and head inside. Just like last time, the bartender leads me through the freezer, into the second bar Cal installed in the b
Eleni“Let me get that.” Dante swoops into my path and tries to grab the full plate of pasta out of my hands.I hold on with a small smile. “I’ve been walking for two days. I think I can handle carrying my own dinner.”“You are stubborn.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Can I take your glass instead?”I nod, and he lets go. He’s been doting on me for the last three days, barely letting me do anything. It’s sweet, but it’s also driving me insane. I pad from the kitchen into the living room and sit on the couch. Dante’s pasta and his glass of wine wait on the coffee table. I set mine next to his, and a moment later, he appears with my glass of sparkling apple juice. We both look at it for a moment. Dr. Fletcher hasn’t called yet. I haven’t gotten my period yet. Without talking about it, Dante and I both agreed I’m not going to drink until we know one way or the other.“What do you want to watch tonight?” I ask, shattering the spell.He passes me the glass and blinks a few times. “I pick
EleniOver my clothes, under the blankets, Dante cups me like I’m made of glass. My thin shirt can’t disguise the warmth of his skin, and though my whole body still aches, I want to tell him to treat me like normal. He thumbs over my nipple, and I arch up, tilting my head back toward the ceiling. In my mind’s eye, I see the crack I tracked during the endless hours of my capture.I shut my eyes. “Fuck me like you would if we were there.”“Quietly?” Dante’s voice holds the ghost of a smile. “We have a lot of children and Mama not to wake up.”I picture a whitewashed house in Greece, next to the restaurant rather than on top of it, with a cozy front garden covered in plastic kids toys, far enough outside the city that I can commute and far enough away that the air tastes clean. A small grove of olive trees in the back where we picnic. I can almost taste the salt of the sea, just like Mama always described from home. In the darkness, it’s easy to pretend we’re already there.“Yes,” I murm
DanteTwo days before El’s first class at Tandon, Tony and I sit on the back porch of the safehouse. I roll a glass of scotch between my palms and stare at the trees I know hide Christos’ grave.“I don’t think there’s another choice at this point,” I say.“She was just kidnapped, Dante.” Tony takes a long pull of his beer. “Putting off college for a semester is a goddamn option.”I shake my head. “She’d be devastated. And she fucking earned it, Tone. I’m not letting Camila take this from her.”“And if you move her into the city, Camila only has the opportunity to take her life.” Tony rolls his eyes.I sip my scotch. He’s been touchy since he found out about Henry. I know it’s the right move. Even if it scares the shit out of me.“Has there been more activity?” I ask. “Or are we just hiding from shadows at this point?”“Nothing huge.” Tony shakes his head. “I don’t fucking know what they’d do at this point. They’ve got the drug trade in a stranglehold. Everyone’s hiding from goddamn sh
EleniI pace back and forth in the guest bedroom we’ve set up as my kind-of office over the last few days. Dante got me a laptop, and Tony brought my school books on one of his many trips up here. I could study. Maybe I should be studying. Classes start in two days. But neither Dante or I have actually, seriously said we’re going back to the city yet. I lift the blinds to check on him and Tony on the deck.They’re both gone. For a split second, cold fear grips my heart. The Russians found the safehouse, and they took both of them while I stood up here. Any second now, the door to this room will burst in, and I’ll be back in that fucking cell before I know it.Someone knocks on the door, and my heart skips a beat. But Russians wouldn’t knock. Dante would.“Come in!” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t sound panicky.Dante opens the door and steps in. He looks taller, prouder than he did a minute ago. My battered heart leaps.“What did Tony say? Good news?” I ask. “Russian syndicate destroye
EleniI shuffle through the hangers in the walk-in closet attached to the bedroom in the city apartment Dante showed me just before everything went wrong a few weeks ago. Classes start tomorrow. Tomorrow! And I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to wear yet. Most of my things from the house have been shipped here, but as I flick through them, all I can think about is how much longer they’re going to fit me for. Leather pants? Silk camisoles? I couldn’t have picked clothes with less stretch if I wanted to.Someone leans on their horn outside, and I’ve lived here way too long to jump, but the city noises are still abrupt after so long away from them. The cell the Russians kept me in was almost completely silent, and there are no neighbors by the safehouse. I missed the noise. I think.My mind drifts to the house on Staten Island, apparently empty right now. It wasn’t silent there by any means, just quieter. Quiet enough that I should’ve been able to hear the sirens headed for bur