Mafiosa (Blood for Blood #3)

by Catherine Doyle

  I slammed my locker shut. My bag felt heavier than usual, like it was trying to drag me into the ground. All this homework to do, and a man to kill, in one weekend.

  ‘What was that?’ Millie pressed. ‘What was that thought that just invaded your face?’

  ‘I’m just thinking about my dad, that’s all.’ Not totally untrue, but it was certainly more lie than honesty.

  ‘Have they found him?’ she asked.

  I shook my head. ‘I’m trying not to think about where he could be.’

  ‘What about that address he gave you at the funeral?’ Millie said. Ever since I had told her about the address, she had become fixated on it. She couldn’t believe I had thrown it away – that I had destroyed a potential lifeline. Even now, after everything, she was still so trusting of a man neither of us really knew.

  ‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘My dad wouldn’t escape from prison just to run away to some other state. He’s with the Marinos. I can feel it.’

  ‘Ugh,’ Millie groaned. ‘Why?’

  Because of the blood war, I screamed inside my head. Because he wants to fight alongside his family. ‘Who knows?’ I said.

  She shook her head, a sigh filtering through her words. ‘What a mess.’

  ‘I’m just trying not to think about it. Otherwise it’s going to drive me mad.’

  ‘Just stick with me.’ She touched her head to mine. ‘I’ll cheer you up this weekend. Do you want to see a movie tomorrow night? I can ditch Cris. I’m definitely the alpha in the relationship, so he’ll deal with it.’

  ‘How charming.’ Outside, the air was crisp and cold. I pulled my coat tighter around me, and tried to ignore the shiver crawling up my spine. ‘But I can’t tomorrow night. I have plans.’

  ‘What plans?’

  ‘Um.’ If I waited even half a beat longer, I’d be rumbled, so I said the first and only thing that sprang into my mind. ‘We’re having a movie night.’

  ‘A movie night.’ Millie stopped walking. ‘Who exactly is having a movie night?’

  ‘All of the Falcones.’ I was really trying to sound nonchalant but the idea was ridiculous.

  ‘Right …’ she said, conveying her disbelief in a sideways frown. ‘And what movie is it?’

  Think of a movie. Think of any movie. Pull this lie back from the brink of ludicrousness. ‘Goodfellas,’ I said. ‘We’re watching Goodfellas.’

  Oh, take a bow.

  I tried not to flinch.

  Millie arched an eyebrow. ‘You mean to say a family of hot-tempered Mafia people are all cosying up with each other on a Saturday night to sit down and watch a movie about a family of hot-tempered Mafia people … ? Is that really what you’re telling me?’

  Well, there was nothing else for it now.

  I turned my whole face towards her, maintained full eye contact and said, ‘Yes, Millie. That is exactly what I’m telling you.’

  Hold the stare. Don’t look away. Sell it. Sell it … Three, two, one …

  ‘Huh.’ Millie scrunched her nose at me. ‘Well. That is just … honestly? That is just weird.’

  I conjured the whisper of a smile. ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘Sunday, then?’

  ‘Sure. Sunday.’

  I tried not to imagine how I would feel on Sunday. I tried not to think very much at all, in case my stomach wound up eating itself from nerves.

  Millie skipped down the steps and flounced into the afternoon, leaving me staring at her long dark ponytail as it bobbed back and forth.

  I made my way towards the black SUV, threw my bag in the trunk and slid into the back seat, startling at the backs of two Falcone heads instead of one.

  ‘Hey?’ I said, more question than greeting. ‘Why are there two of you here?’

  Nic and Dom turned around at the same time, their lips curving in matching smiles. ‘Hey,’ they chorused, the sound raising the hairs on my arms.

  ‘There’s been a slight change of itinerary,’ Nic said.

  Dom started the engine. ‘I hope you didn’t make plans for tonight,’ he threw over his shoulder. ‘Because we’re going on a little killing spree.’

  I reeled backwards, my head hitting the seat with a soft thump. ‘It’s tonight? I thought it was tomorrow?’

  Nic shook his head, the glee still firmly plastered across his face. ‘Paulie’s been scouting the location. Libero is coming in tonight instead.’

  ‘So we’re going now?’

  ‘Are you ready?’ He flashed his teeth at me again, the smile turning wolfish.

  No. No! No!

  ‘Where’s Luca?’ I asked, suddenly feeling diminished in this big half-empty car. ‘I thought he was supposed to come too?’

  ‘He’s working on the other side of the city tonight.’ He waved his hand at an imaginary Luca in the faraway distance. ‘And besides, it won’t take that many of us. Libero is barely a match for Gino.’

  I blinked at him dumbly, trying to assimilate the news.

  We whirred past Cedar Hill High, my classmates streaking into scarfed blurs behind me. They were going home to get ready for weekend parties, or coffee dates or dinner with their parents, soccer practice or movies or aimless walks along Main Street … and I was going somewhere very far away. I scooted forward, conscious of how alone I was in the back seat.

  ‘Soph.’ Nic’s voice cut in. Before I even realized it, he had twisted around in his seat and was holding my hand on top of the armrest, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. ‘You look pale. Are you feeling OK?’

  I tried to disengage my thoughts, to use my mouth to talk, to box up my feelings and squish them down, down, down. ‘I’m fine,’ I said, licking my dry lips. ‘Let’s do this.’

  He squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, before slipping it back into my lap, away from the intentions written so clearly on his face.

  ‘Yeah!’ whooped Dom. ‘Let’s do this!’

  He cranked the radio up until the car was vibrating, and then he crushed his foot on the gas and we sped out of Cedar Hill, both boys singing and laughing at the tops of their lungs, while I cowered in the back seat trying to fight the urge to be sick out the window.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  SICILIAN KISS

  It was past sundown by the time we arrived in the city. We pulled into a run-down parking lot three buildings away from The Sicilian Kiss, a dive bar often frequented by members of the Marino family. It looked deserted as we drove past it – boarded-up windows, flaking black paint on the door, and a sign that read: Entrance By Private Admission Only.

  When we reached the car lot, Dom cut the engine, rolled his seat back and propped his feet on the dashboard. I sat forward and stuck my head between the brothers. ‘Now what?’

  Nic turned around so suddenly, I didn’t have time to back up. Our noses were inches from each other as he said, ‘We wait for Paulie’s signal. He’s got someone on the inside. When Libero comes to make the deal, we’ll move in.’

  ‘We’ll disarm him and shoot his legs out,’ added Dom airily. ‘Then you can finish him off.’

  I massaged my temples, trying not to imagine the scene before it happened. It all seemed way too straightforward. Violent, but simple. Too simple. ‘And we’re really going to get away with this?’

  ‘Easily,’ said Nic, confidence trilling in his voice.

  Dom glanced at me over his shoulder. ‘Relax,’ he said. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  Nic smirked at Dom. ‘She’ll be making a ghost tonight.’

  I just stared between them, screwing my face up. ‘I don’t know how you guys can be so … jokey about all of this!’

  ‘Lighten up, Sophie,’ said Dom. ‘You’re supposed to kill Libero, not the mood.’

  Nic snorted, then caught sight of my scowl and glanced at me apologetically. ‘It’s just first-time jitters,’ he said, gently. ‘Don’t try and talk yourself out of it. Don’t psyche yourself out. Libero Marino is a slimeball. I told you that, remember? He oversees the sex trade in the
east of the city, he beats his girlfriends – he put one of them in a coma two years ago. He split Luca’s lip open and tried to kill him when they were still teenagers. He’s not a good guy, OK? He deserves this.’

  I swirled the facts around in my head. It’s not like I thought he was a good guy already, but I hadn’t expected him to be so hateable. It was almost too easy, that he would be the perfect villain. It was easy to hate him. I tried to harness that feeling. I would need it. I would need nothing but that burning, festering hatred. A shred of empathy and it would all go to hell.

  ‘This is for your mother, remember?’ Nic added, his gaze boring into mine. ‘This is for what they took from you.’

  Yes. He was right. That was why I was here. I remembered the diner, the fire, the heat … the smoke. This was for her.

  Nic turned on some music on his phone, and closed his eyes, humming under his breath. I looked through the windscreen, at messy graffiti and overflowing dumpsters. Somewhere close by, The Sicilian Kiss was awaiting our arrival, and Libero Marino was walking to his demise. I tried to concentrate on the music, letting the melody sweep me into a different place.

  Time crawled.

  And then …

  Dom swiped his finger across his phone screen, read a text, smirked at Nic, and, as simply as if he was putting on his favourite movie, said, ‘Show time.’

  Seven minutes later, I had scaled a three-storey fire escape and was standing on the roof of The Sicilian Kiss, my gun clenched inside my coat pocket, and my teeth chattering so hard I could barely hear myself think. According to Paulie, there were only five people inside the bar: Libero Marino, Eric Cain, the owner (a Falcone snitch who was holing himself away on the ground floor), and two of Libero’s buyers, who had just shown up for the drug deal.

  We went in via the fire escape on the roof, while Paulie made his way through the front entrance at the same time. Nic and Dom formed a barrier in front of me, shoulder to shoulder and dressed entirely in black, their coats zipped up past their chins. We descended the stairs quietly and quickly, leaving the cold behind us. My face was hot and my breathing was coming quick and sharp. It felt like every part of my skin was tingling. I could feel the adrenalin, like a shot of hot metal coursing through my bloodstream.

  We stalled in a narrow corridor at the bottom of the fire escape. The place was dank and musty. There was a door right in front of us, with a circle of glass set in the centre. Voices wafted from a lowly-lit room with black walls and rickety old tables. Someone laughed behind the door – it was loud and sharp, and I cringed at the familiarity. That was Eric Cain, Jack’s best friend. Could Jack be nearby, too? What about my father?

  No. Paulie would have warned us. This was his job, and Nic said they didn’t call him ‘The Ghost’ for nothing. He was always nearby, always watching. He moved unseen inside the shadows. Even if the time had changed at the last minute, his sources wouldn’t have. I told myself that over and over, Nic’s warning flashing inside my head. Don’t psyche yourself out.

  Nic crept up to the window and peered in. He held up four fingers. Dom pulled the slider on his gun back. I copied him, my fingers warm with adrenalin as they slid against the cool metal.

  Nic glanced over his shoulder, one hand already pressed against the door. Dom was looking at his phone, counting under his breath. Paulie was obviously coming up the opposite stairs.

  Nic gestured to a puddle of darkness behind the stairs. ‘Hide until we call you.’

  Something flared inside me – need, anger, excitement?

  ‘Let me come in,’ I whispered. ‘Don’t leave me out here.’

  Nic shook his head, his attention already disengaging from me. ‘You’re not ready for this part yet.’

  Before I could protest, or even figure out whether I truly wanted to protest, the boys raised their guns, swung the door open and started shooting. And then my feet were moving too, carrying me through the gap in the door as it shut after them, and propelling me towards the gunfire, my own weapon raised.

  Nic fired first, and Eric Cain went down, his body collapsing on to the table and sending glasses smashing to the ground. Everyone started roaring, and the long, narrow room exploded into chaos. I zeroed in on Libero as he rolled backwards, away from Dom’s aim, and flipped a table between them. Paulie appeared from nowhere and dispatched the first buyer with two quick shots in the back. The second buyer shot at Nic, but missed – narrowly. I stumbled backwards, crouching behind the bar and trying to aim at someone – at Eric’s floundering form, at the table Libero was now using for a shield. But everyone just kept moving.

  I wasn’t used to moving targets.

  The second buyer went down, his body convulsing as a fresh wound gushed blood down his neck. His leg twitched and then stopped. The first buyer was out, too. Nic finished Eric Cain, his back between us as the final shot rang out, and then … then there was only Libero Marino, crouching like a scared rat on the other side of an upturned table.

  It had all happened so quickly. A flash. And now three people were dead. My pulse was roaring in my eardrums. I stood up from behind the bar, where shards of glass and spilt whisky lay in pools. I ignored the bodies, fought the urge to turn and study them. To stare death in the face and feel it spread inside me like ice. My adrenalin put one foot in front of the other, carrying me towards Nic and Dom. Libero’s gun was empty. He flung it at us as we converged on him – three angels of death. It landed with a hollow click at my feet. I kicked it away.

  Paulie disappeared downstairs again, already getting to work on making the mess disappear.

  The table was blocking Libero up to the neck, but there was no way out for him, and he knew it. He didn’t even look afraid. He did, however, look like Sara. Those wide eyes. Dimples, too, I noticed at close range, but only because he was frowning so severely and his facial hair was patchier than it had been in the photo.

  ‘Stand up, Libero,’ Nic commanded. His gun was pointed directly at Libero’s forehead. A threat, only. The killing shot was mine.

  ‘Fuck yourself, Falcone!’ Libero cut his eyes to me, hatred twisting his mouth. ‘You traitorous bitch. Killing your own family in cold blood.’

  ‘Watch your mouth, Marino.’ Dom fired off a warning shot and it lodged in the wooden table between them. Libero didn’t even flinch. He didn’t look away from me.

  ‘Are you proud of yourself?’ he said, his voice falling deadly quiet. ‘Vince Marino’s daughter, a coward and a turncoat. You’ll suffer when my family gets their hands on you. When my mother shows up she’ll gut you and then Zola will cut you into little pieces and listen to you scream yourself unconscious.’

  When my mother shows up. What the hell did that mean? I shook the paranoia away. He was just trying to psyche me out, to get in my head. Nic and Dom weren’t reacting to it, so I took my cue from them. I stared at Libero, trying to work myself up to what I had to do. His hatred was definitely helping.

  Dom ripped the table away and flung it against the bar. Libero fell forwards on to his hands, spluttering. Blood was running down his left side and staining his T-shirt. He had already been shot. The colour was draining from his face, his black goatee appearing stark against his white pallor.

  Dom and Nic stepped back to either side of me, and I was conscious suddenly of what I had to do, of what they were waiting for. This was it. The time had come.

  I raised my gun.

  Libero laughed, and with it came another trickle of blood, painting his lips crimson. He spat it at my feet. ‘They gave their plaything a gun.’ He spat again, and this time it reached my shoe. I kept my gaze forward, focused on his leering grin, using all that hatred to fuel my own.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, barely recognizing my own voice as I curled my lip at him. ‘They gave me a gun.’

  Libero returned my twisted smile. ‘Which one are you sleeping with, turncoat? Which one have you whored yourself out to? All the honour and dignity in your blood and you debase yourself like this. You disgust me.’
<
br />   My composure faltered, his words breaking through my defences. ‘Shut up!’ I snapped. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about!’

  ‘Sophie,’ Nic urged from somewhere over my shoulder. ‘Just do it. End him.’

  ‘End me!’ Libero shouted. ‘End me the way you ended your own mother! No wonder she didn’t want to live in this world any more. No wonder she ran into those flames. Away from you!’

  My finger was on the trigger. The world had fallen still. It was just me, Libero Marino and all that malevolent hatred spewing from his lips, wrapping around me, taunting me. ‘Shut your mouth,’ I said.

  ‘Your hand is shaking.’ Libero’s lips peeled back to reveal bloodstained teeth. ‘I can see it.’

  ‘Sophie,’ Nic warned. ‘He’s going to bleed out.’

  My hand was shaking. But my aim was still squarely on Libero’s sweating forehead. I bared my teeth at him, feeling the ferocity in my face. ‘I’m going to shoot you now,’ I told him. ‘And you deserve it.’

  His grin faltered. His eyes were big, so big. Just like Sara’s. I watched his Adam’s apple flare as he swallowed, and I could almost taste it – that feeling of fear. Bone-chilling fear. He knew I was really going to do it. And it made me feel … powerful. It made me feel completely unlike myself. And somewhere deep down inside, that terrified me.

  ‘Kill me, just how you killed my sister.’ His words tripped and slurred, the energy petering out of him rapidly now. ‘What’s one more betrayal?’

  My heart clenched. My finger faltered on the trigger. Come on, Sophie. Come on.

  ‘Now, Sophie.’ I could sense Nic bristling. ‘Stop letting him talk.’

  Libero’s head flopped forwards, his weakness dragging his body towards the ground. There was so much of his blood around him already. I could smell it. He forced his head up, his eyes glassy and red. ‘Shoot me,’ he said. ‘You fucking coward.’

  ‘Shoot him!’ said Dom. ‘What the hell are you waiting for?’

  ‘Do it,’ urged Nic.

  So shoot! Shoot him!

  I was freezing up. I was staring so hard at his face my eyes were starting to water. This face that was so like Sara Marino’s. My father’s dimples. My own fear reflected back in his eyes, hastily painted over with false bravado. Time slowed to an agonizing pace. A bead of sweat dripped into my eye.