Mafiosa (Blood for Blood #3)

by Catherine Doyle

  I focused entirely on the task at hand, not his breath on my cheek or his voice in my ear. Our arms lined up, and I was thankful for his coat and my sweater. Skin-to-skin would not be a good idea right now. ‘Line up your sight. Hold steady.’

  Donata’s features shifted into view. I saw her in my mind’s eye, as plainly as if she was there in front of me.

  ‘Again,’ he said pulling back. ‘Shoot her.’

  I fired again.

  This time I was expecting the recoil. My arm still flinched, but not much. I missed the target.

  ‘Again,’ Nic commanded.

  I replanted myself and fired.

  Miss.

  ‘Again.’

  Miss.

  ‘Higher.’

  I held my arm higher. It was starting to get tired.

  ‘Again.’

  Miss.

  ‘Again,’ he demanded.

  That one hit the torso of the target next to the one I was aiming for. The bullets had run out. I dropped my arm, and realized I was panting. Frustration and embarrassment warred inside me.

  ‘Damn it,’ I cursed. ‘I can’t do it, Nic.’ I wanted to throw the gun across the room. ‘I’m terrible at this.’ I am powerless. I am weak.

  Nic took the gun from me and reloaded it. ‘You’re a beginner.’

  ‘A bad one.’

  Nic frowned at me. ‘Stop being so hard on yourself.’

  ‘I want to be good at this,’ I said. ‘Like, immediately.’

  Nic threw his head back and laughed at the ceiling. ‘Sophie,’ he said, amusement trilling in his voice. ‘You can’t make yourself an expert marksman in ten minutes. Give yourself the time you need to work on it. I’ll help you, but you need to go easier on yourself.’

  ‘I can’t,’ I huffed, watching the gun in his hands. The ease with which he handled it, the lazy confidence in his stance. Here was something else unexpected: jealousy. ‘There’s too much at stake.’

  His face dropped, seriousness returning like a storm cloud across his features. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘But you’ll get there. I promise you. You will have your revenge.’ He handed me the gun, loaded again. I took it, determination pulling me back into the shooting stance. ‘The hardest thing to master is the trigger pull. You flinch when you pull it and it throws your body off-kilter. Your brain is telling you to compensate for the recoil but you need to overrule that part of you.’

  I refocused on the Donata target. Those wide black-rimmed eyes. Those thin red-stained lips. I’m going to make you pay.

  ‘I’m ready,’ I said, before he could ask me.

  ‘Then what are you waiting for?’

  I pulled the trigger, this time fighting the recoil. The gun stayed entirely straight, and the bullet, when it hit, sailed right through the target’s right shoulder.

  ‘Excellent!’ Nic whooped. ‘You’re a natural!’

  I fired again. A miss, but a close one. Then two more misses.

  ‘Focus,’ Nic warned. ‘Watch the recoil.’

  I shot again, and this time the bullet landed right in the middle of Donata’s torso.

  ‘A killing blow!’ Nic shouted. ‘See,’ he said, pointing at the two bullet holes in the target. ‘You got her!’

  I set my teeth, elation rising inside me. Pushing the darker feelings down, down, down, I shot again. This one landed in her breastbone.

  ‘She’s dead.’ Nic broke into raucous laughter. ‘You got her!’

  ‘I got her!’ I cried, dropping the emptied gun to my side. ‘I can do this!’ The feeling of power flooded me, and it was delicious and warm and all-consuming. I was good at this. I was good, and it was only my first time. I would get better. I would be amazing.

  ‘Look,’ said Nic, taking the emptied gun from me and using it to point at the target. He put his other arm around my shoulder and pulled me against him. I slid my arm around his back, fighting the urge to jump up and down like an excited child. We stood side by side, examining the target and basking in the glow of my small triumph. My ears were ringing, my arm was buzzing, and I was grinning like a mad person. ‘See,’ he said, moving the gun-pointer to the three separate holes. ‘You did that. All of those.’

  We were falling in and out of giddy laughter, still staring at the target with disbelief, when six more shots rang out.

  I watched them dent the target – my target. Six holes forming a perfectly vertical straight line from the target’s collarbone to its navel, like the buttons of a winter coat. Six perfect shots.

  I turned towards the shooter, my heart climbing up my throat.

  ‘Maybe she’ll be able to do that,’ said Luca. He reloaded in a blur and fired off six more. Every single one landed in the middle of the target’s forehead. ‘Or that,’ he said, lowering his gun. ‘If she really practises.’ He turned towards us, shoving his gun back into the waistband of his jeans. ‘What do you think, Sophie? Would you like to be able to do that?’

  His voice was dangerously even. Nerves swarmed inside me, sucking all the warmth and joy from the moment. I swallowed hard.

  Luca gestured at me and Nic. ‘You’ll probably have to unstick yourself from Nicoli, first. If you really want to hone your skills.’

  There. Beneath the anger flashing in his eyes, the hard set of his mouth, there was a flicker of something else. Hurt. Why the hell would he be hurt? Something lurched inside me – hope that he might still care for me that way … and then an alarm sounded in my head. Nic still had his arm around me, and it looked like … Oh, God.

  Oh no. Oh no no no no.

  I stepped away from Nic. His arm fell with a thump to his side, and I folded mine across my torso. It was freezing in here. How had I not noticed that until now? And why couldn’t I think of anything to say? My mouth had gone dry, and my brain was just … stagnant.

  ‘She’s really good already, Luca.’ Pride lit up Nic’s voice. He was so not getting the undertone of our conversation. A huge part of me was glad about that. ‘I think you’ll be impressed.’

  Luca was still looking at me. ‘Will I?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Nic turned to me, the gun held out, bridging the big gap I had made between us. His smile was encouraging, his voice full of affection, when he said, ‘Do you want to show him?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, thanks.’

  ‘Go on.’ Nic winked at me. ‘He’ll be impressed.’

  I didn’t dare look at Luca.

  ‘Go on,’ he said, his voice silky. ‘Why don’t you show me, Sophie? Show me what you’ve been up to out here all morning.’

  ‘I’m too cold,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Nic, bewilderment colouring his tone. ‘You were so excited before.’

  ‘Was she?’

  ‘I’m tired,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to right now.’

  ‘I want Luca to see what a good teacher I am. Let’s show him what a good team we are.’ I knew Nic was teasing me, but that was not the right thing to say in the moment. Not the way he lingered over the word team. I could practically feel Luca bristling.

  ‘No,’ I said, my answer firm.

  ‘Fine,’ said Luca quickly. He was over this. Theatrics weren’t his thing, thankfully. ‘Some other time, perhaps.’ He turned to Nic, his tone clipped. ‘Valentino is holding a meeting in ten minutes. Libero Marino is back in Chicago.’ He gestured behind him, in the direction of the house. ‘He wants to speak to you about doing some recon in the city.’

  Nic seemed to grow to twice his size in that moment. ‘Whatever he needs.’

  He was so … malleable.

  I frowned, scolding myself for thinking less of the boy who had just been helping me. Nic was what he was; there was nothing to be ashamed of. He was a soldier. That was his calling and he was good at it.

  Luca simply nodded. ‘We’ll follow you inside.’

  Nic took his leave, grinning at me over his shoulder. ‘We’ll reconvene this afternoon?’ He left the question in the air, and when I didn’t respond, he
sealed the answer with a wink. ‘This was fun.’

  And then he was gone, and the door was falling shut behind him, and I was wondering if I could scale the walls of the barn and slither out through a window before Luca gave me the tongue-lashing that was so obviously building up inside him. Would it be worth the drop on the other side?

  I raised my chin. I would not be afraid of him or his words. He wasn’t my keeper. He didn’t control me. I could do what I wanted.

  ‘I wanted to learn,’ I said evenly. ‘And you wouldn’t teach me.’

  He didn’t even blink. ‘So you found someone who would.’

  Why the hell did I feel so ashamed of myself? I hadn’t done anything wrong. Nic was proud of me. Nic was helping me. He was giving me the confidence I needed to walk this new path, and Luca was intent on taking it away. Screw that. ‘Nic wants me to be happy.’

  Something flitted across Luca’s face. ‘Nicoli wants you to be like him.’

  ‘Would that be so bad?’

  That look again – fleeting. I caught it that time. Betrayal. He thought I had betrayed him.

  ‘Say something,’ I said. ‘Give out to me if you want, but don’t just stand there glaring at me.’

  Show me you still care. Show me something real.

  The silence stretched out.

  I just wanted it to make sense.

  A muscle feathered in his jaw. ‘I don’t have anything to say to you, Sophie.’

  And then he was gone. But the guilt remained, burrowing deep. I added it to the great, heaving pile already teetering inside me.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SNEAKING OUT

  On Sunday morning, when everyone at the Falcone compound was getting ready for church, I sneaked out. Millie was parked in the usual spot, half-hidden by shrubbery around a giant bend in the road that dipped into a ditch about half a mile from Felice’s house. Her head was bowed, the light from her phone reflecting off her face.

  A sense of determination came over me as I drew closer. I imagined a mask absorbing my features, the old bones of my personality clicking into place. I was getting so good at compartmentalizing, it was almost scary. I was learning to be like them. I was learning to be like Valentino.

  I swung the passenger door open, and Millie jumped in her seat, her phone sailing across the car. ‘Holy crap Sophie-you move like the wind.’

  ‘Sorry.’ I slipped inside. ‘Are you ready to make our getaway?’

  She raised an eyebrow at me, the engine already purring to life beneath us. ‘What else would I be doing on a Sunday morning except smuggling my best friend away from her new home with a bunch of murderers before they notice she’s gone and track her down via a chaperone who is most likely the boy I almost fell in love with but as it turns out was only using me for information?’

  We pulled out on to the road, and Millie launched into her favourite pastime – unashamed speeding. I put on my seat-belt and gripped the sides of my seat. ‘Tunes?’ She turned on the radio, and cranked it up until the car was vibrating. ‘Now, I don’t want you to freak out,’ Millie shouted over the music. She always preferred to shout than to turn it down. ‘But as of this past month, I think something terrifying is happening to me.’

  ‘Oh?’ I said, matching her pitch.

  ‘Yeah.’ She nodded solemnly at the road. ‘I’m not sure yet, but I think, I think, I might be a Belieber now.’

  I clutched at my heart. ‘Good God.’

  ‘His stuff is just so on point these days, what am I supposed to do? Not listen to it? Not sing along? I’m only human, Soph. A beautiful, hilarious, intelligent human.’

  I fought the urge to hug her lest we both veer off the road and crash. ‘I’ve missed you, Mil.’

  Millie snorted. ‘Geez, what’s it like in that hellish boy-filled mansion? It’s only been two days.’

  I thought about the ice-cold treatment I had been getting from Luca, Nic’s eagerness to continue training me, how stuck in the middle I felt, how badly I burnt for the moment Valentino would give me my target, how guilty I felt for anticipating it. ‘Two days too long.’

  ‘Speaking of your somewhat strange living arrangement which I have solemnly promised to stop questioning but secretly always wonder about … How is your boo?’ She threw me a mischievous look.

  I deadpanned her.

  ‘What?’ she said, innocently. ‘Is it “bae” now? Is that what all the cool kids are saying? Or would it be “murder-bae”?’

  I shut my eyes. ‘Please do not refer to Luca Falcone as my murder-bae ever again.’

  ‘But it’s so funny,’ she protested. ‘He would hate it.’

  Oh, you have no idea.

  ‘Yeah, he would hate it. Probably about as much as he hates me right now.’

  Millie screwed her face up. ‘Why would Luca hate you? He practically escorted you into his family. Is he being an ass to you? Do you want me to get involved? Because I will take him down, Sophie, murder-bae or no murder-bae, I will take him all the way down.’

  I smiled at my best friend, a well of love pouring over all of my frustrations. ‘He thinks I’m getting with Nic,’ I said, after a beat. Half a truth. That was the best I could do.

  ‘Yikes.’

  ‘I’m not getting with Nic,’ I thought it pertinent to add.

  Millie rolled her eyes. ‘Obviously.’

  ‘I don’t want to be with Nic.’

  ‘But does Nic know that?’

  I weighed the question for a minute. ‘You know, I’m starting to wonder whether there’s a difference between me telling Nic that, and Nic actually hearing it.’

  ‘Boys can be so pig-headed sometimes,’ Millie sighed. Her phone beeped from where it had fallen on the floor. She glanced towards it – out of reach – with so much longing on her face that she might have just tumbled right out of a war romance novel.

  ‘What’s his name?’

  Her cheeks turned the most unsubtle shade of pink. ‘Hmm?’

  ‘The boy,’ I said, picking her phone up for her. I held it between us as she struggled to keep her focus on the road. ‘Don’t make me invade your privacy, because I’ll do it.’

  ‘Oh, please,’ she said, undaunted. ‘My privacy is your privacy.’

  Well, that was definitely a one-way street.

  I glanced at the screen. ‘Who is Crispin?’ And, as an aside, I thought it best to add, ‘And why are you dating someone called Crispin?’

  ‘Eh, because he’s hot, and I’m shallow?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No!’ She slapped my knee. ‘Not really! Because he can’t help what his parents named him. And he’s actually really kind and sweet, and yes he is hot, plus he’s perfect for this current phase in my life.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Which is the phase of needing an escort for the Halloween Masquerade Ball so I don’t look like a huge loo-hoo-ser in front of all my peers.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, suddenly remembering the dance. ‘Then I guess this loo-hoo-ser will be going all by herself then.’

  ‘Cris is on the football team.’

  ‘Oh, that Crispin. Cris.’ The realization dawned on me. Tall, blond, ripped Crispin. ‘He is hot. Still, terrible name.’

  Millie swirled her hand in the air. ‘He sits beside me in chemistry.’

  ‘How convenient …’

  ‘We’re lab partners … I let him cheat off me sometimes.’

  I feigned a gasp. ‘Millicent!’

  ‘Look, science isn’t his strong suit,’ she said. ‘He is, however, a very accomplished baker. He makes a mean blueberry pie.’

  ‘Is this … is this a euphemism?’

  ‘I kid you not.’

  ‘Huh.’

  ‘Anyway, anyway, I was making a point here. If you want, I can get him to set you up with one of his friends and we can all ride in the limo together.’

  ‘The limo?’

  ‘Yes,’ Millie said. ‘The limo. So you can just go ahead and remove that negative attitude, wrap
it up in a bow and hide it away for a rainy day, because you and I are arriving at the dance in a limo.’

  ‘Couldn’t I just walk alongside it … ?’

  Millie cut her eyes at me. ‘You’re going inside the limo or I’m strapping you to the top of it. Your decision.’

  ‘Fine. I suppose I’ll take the luxury.’

  ‘Do you want me to set you up with one of Cris’s friends or not?’

  The mere idea of adding one more testosterone-fuelled boy to my life was about as appealing as sawing my little finger off. ‘Oh, no thank you, I’d rather die,’ I said politely.

  Millie reacted like I had just violently yanked her ponytail. ‘Sophie! Come on. Let me actually help drag you back into the real world. This could be good for you. And it would definitely be good for me.’

  ‘A minute ago, you were pushing me and Luca together!’

  ‘That was a joke,’ said Millie. ‘Obviously I’d prefer you to be with someone who doesn’t kill people for a living.’

  ‘What about being by myself?’ I asked her. ‘I’m a pretty cool person. I could be in a very happy relationship with myself. I could also look into acquiring an aloof-yet-stylish cat.’

  ‘And that,’ said Millie, with a flurry of old-world drama in her voice, ‘is precisely the problem, my dear. Let me get involved.’

  I turned my whole body towards her so she would know I was totally serious when I said, ‘Millie, do not under any circumstances meddle with my dating life.’

  My phone buzzed. I cancelled the call.

  Millie blew wisps of chestnut-brown hair from her face, pouting. ‘Fine.’

  My phone buzzed again. Cancel.

  ‘You clearly have enough crap going on,’ she said, flicking her gaze to my lap, where Luca’s number was blowing up my screen. ‘Are you going to answer that?’

  I eyed the phone with contempt. ‘No.’

  ‘I thought you said he wasn’t talking to you.’

  ‘That was before I sneaked out without a chaperone.’

  Millie turned the radio down until it was a low hum between us. Her voice changed, tinges of reverence slipping into it now. ‘Does he know where you’re going today?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  A text flashed on screen: