Mafiosa (Blood for Blood #3)

by Catherine Doyle

  He nodded.

  ‘I thought you’d stop me.’

  ‘So did I,’ he admitted. ‘But then I saw you sneaking out, in that dress.’ His eyes travelled the length of me, slow and incredibly unsubtle. ‘And I couldn’t do it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. I didn’t have to say the rest: I needed this. I needed this for my sanity. He already knew.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ he said.

  ‘I—what?’

  His smile grew. It was unfairly ravishing, considering I was the one in the gown. ‘Did I stutter?’

  ‘It is a beautiful dress,’ I said decidedly. ‘I kind of had a moment with myself earlier when I was looking in the mirror.’

  Luca stopped smiling. ‘It’s not the dress.’ He dropped his voice, and came a couple of inches closer. ‘I think you’re beautiful when you wear oversized hoodies and fleece pyjamas with teddy bears on them. Or when you wear thick socks and use them to slide around on the marble floors when you think no one’s looking at you.’

  ‘I – Oh. You know about that.’

  ‘And I think you are especially beautiful when you are giving out to me.’

  ‘In that case, you must find me constantly compelling.’

  His laugh was breathy. ‘Come on, Cinderella.’ He took my hand in his and led me on to the dance floor, and before I could process the strangeness of everything, he was twirling me into him and we were dancing together. And he was good. Damn. He was really good. He knew all the words, too, and he was singing along, his voice lilting and strong, and then I was singing too, way out of tune and much too excitedly. We pealed into a fit of laughter, his amusement ringing in my ears, my smile so big it could have broken my face, because we were both cheating just for one night – we were both wearing masks belonging to other people, and it was exhilarating.

  The song changed to a slow number, and instead of shying away, he pulled me closer and put his arms around my waist. I wound mine around his neck and laid my head on his chest until I could feel his heartbeat against my cheek.

  He dipped his head, his mouth next to my ear. ‘Let’s just escape. For tonight.’

  I nodded against him. My eyes were closed. I was inhaling his scent and feeling it wrap around my heart. God, I had it bad for this guy. But I wasn’t going to think about tomorrow, or what would happen when the game of make-believe ended. ‘Just for tonight,’ I murmured, resting my head against his chest, relaxing into the feeling of his hands around me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  TWIST

  ‘Well, if this isn’t the most welcome plot twist …’

  Luca and I turned around to find Millie and Cris beaming at us with matching smiles. Luca left his hand on my back, his fingers lightly trailing my waist.

  ‘Hello, Millie,’ said Luca, courteously. He didn’t care one iota that she had caught us dancing together, or even that she had caught him at a high school dance.

  ‘Hiii,’ I greeted her. ‘Sorry, I meant to come back to find you, but I got waylaid …’

  Millie nodded, her eyebrows still halfway towards her hairline. ‘Yeah. I can see that. Luca, to what do we owe the grand gesture?’

  He laughed, and I was struck by how different we both were in this environment, how light I felt inside. ‘I suppose I—’

  ‘I’m just kidding,’ said Millie, her own laughter soaring to match his. ‘I know it’s because you’re secretly in love with my best friend but you’re too proud to admit it so you prefer to nag her instead because it’s the only way you can show her you care without freaking her out or encroaching on your brother who would flip out if he knew and probably try and stab you because for some ludicrous reason he still thinks they might get back together, and don’t worry I won’t make you admit that I’m right either so we’ll just breeze on past this … anyhoo, this is Cris …’ She shoved Cris in front of her. ‘Cris, this is Luca. Be really nice to him.’

  I tried not to feel the fresh heat of mortification eating me alive as I endeavoured to communicate my sudden, murderous thoughts to her. I’m going to kill you the next time we’re alone.

  Luca didn’t even bat an eyelid. He took Cris’s hand and shook it, reintroducing himself, as pleasant as I had ever seen him. Cris returned it, wincing just a little, and I noticed with a grim flair of amusement that Luca had crushed his fingers together, just a little, in that handshake. As polite a warning as any, I supposed, but I knew he could tell Cris was harmless.

  ‘So, this is nice,’ Millie said, taking the reins again. ‘Weird …’ she said, eyeing me, ‘… but nice.’

  Luca’s grip on my waist got a little tighter. He shifted, pulling me with him.

  ‘What?’ I said, turning to look up at him.

  ‘Don’t move,’ he said, low and through the side of his mouth.

  ‘Why are you backing away from us all of a sudden?’ Millie asked. ‘What’s going on?’ She sniffed the air around Cris, her face scrunching with confusion. ‘I don’t get it.’

  Luca, who had gone completely rigid beside me, was on high alert. I tried to follow the direction of his eyeline but I couldn’t see around Cris’s broad shoulders.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said, answering Millie way too late.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I hissed at Luca.

  ‘They’re here,’ he said, drawing himself to his full height. His other hand flew to his waistband, checking for his gun.

  Millie was still talking to us, but I was tuning her out, my whole body trained on where Luca was looking. At a throng of people who all looked the same, who all wore the same stupid masks and the same stupid Converse shoes.

  Stupid masks.

  ‘Soph?’ Millie was clicking her fingers in front of my face. ‘What the hell are you staring at? You’re starting to freak me out.’

  ‘I think it’s Zola,’ Luca said under his breath. ‘And if it is, she won’t be on her own.’

  Zola. Zola.

  Oh, crap.

  Zola was the sister of Sara and Libero Marino, recently released from prison, and if Zola Marino was somewhere inside this gym, someone was about to die.

  And that someone was probably me.

  ‘There’s no way,’ I said, not bothering to keep my voice low, and fully aware that Millie was reading every single word out of my mouth to try and figure out why Luca and I had gone so cold all of a sudden. ‘Zola’s not here. She couldn’t be here. Not in a high school.’

  Luca untangled himself from me and I grabbed him by the back of his jacket before he could disappear into the crowd. ‘Are you crazy?’ I snapped. ‘Where the hell are you going?’

  He reeled around. ‘Don’t move from here, OK?’ He turned to Millie and Cris. ‘No one move from here until I come back.’

  ‘Huh?’ Cris said. ‘What are you talking about, man?’

  Luca turned to Millie. ‘Stay on the dance floor,’ he told her. ‘I’m serious, Millie. Keep her close to you.’

  ‘What’s going on? Is … is it Donata? Are we in danger?’ Millie was starting to panic – she was starting to get it.

  Cris was still totally confused.

  Luca slid between Cris and Millie. I lunged after him, but Millie pushed me backwards.

  ‘Stop,’ I said, trying to see where he was going. Straight for the girl with the cane and the cropped pixie cut! Straight for the girl who had been loitering around the dance floor all night – looking for me. Zola Marino – tall and wiry with bright purple lips and wide, dark eyes. And Luca was marching right towards her.

  Millie grabbed me by the arm. ‘He said wait here.’

  I shook her off. ‘Mil, you don’t understand.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she said, her grip growing harder. ‘I understand perfectly.’

  The sound of a gunshot stole my response.

  ‘Holy shit.’ Cris grabbed Millie and yanked her across the dance floor, away from the sound. I tugged free of her grip and slunk into the pandemonium. Everyone was screaming and fleeing
towards the exits. Millie shoved against Cris, reaching out for me. I pushed her back towards him, pulling further away from the waves of people clamouring around me.

  ‘Sophie!’ she screamed. ‘Sophie, get back here! Come on!’

  I tried to trace the noise of the gunshot, the sound still reverberating in my eardrums. Everyone was surging towards the exits, and there were no casualties in the gym – no one wounded or screaming, no one on the floor, no blood … and then … another shot!

  Millie’s screams followed me across the dance floor, but Cris was hauling her away. I was running entirely on adrenalin as every thought in my head pounded out Luca’s name. Even though I knew he would never discharge his weapon in such a public place, I refused to entertain the possibility that those gunshots had harmed him.

  I was almost across the dance floor when Donata Marino stalked into my path and slammed her fist into my face. A girl beside me screamed, pushing by us towards the exit, as Donata wound her fingers into my dress and pulled me to her. Her perfume rolled over me as I blinked the stars away, tried to keep my head upright. Donata brought her masked face just an inch from my own, her kohl-rimmed eyes flashing as she loomed over me and dug the barrel of her gun into my ribs. She walked me backwards, into the crowds, her long black dress trailing behind her, her blood-red lips twisting in disgust.

  ‘You think you can kill my son and get away with it?’ she hissed, her yellowed teeth on show. ‘You think I won’t gut you slowly and painfully for what you took from me?’

  I heaved a breath, tried to pull my stomach in, away from her gun, but she pushed harder, scraped her fingers across my neck, her long, pointed nails, drawing blood.

  ‘I’m going to show you what the Marino family does to turncoats,’ she snarled. ‘I’m going to tear you limb from limb, make you scream all night.’

  I gasped a breath, turned to stone by the feeling of her gun pressing into me, the very real possibility that she would kill me if I moved against her, even an inch.

  Jack appeared, then, shoving his way through the chaos, pushing a girl so hard she fell over.

  He was wearing a suit too, a full mask of glittering gold, but I’d recognize those eyes anywhere, one of them irreparably scarred, that lumbering lope. When he reached us, he pulled me away from Donata.

  ‘Not here,’ he snapped at her over my head. ‘There’s too many witnesses.’

  He wouldn’t even look at me.

  ‘Jack,’ I wheezed.

  ‘Shut your mouth.’ He grabbed me by the throat, yanked me out of Donata’s grip and into his own.

  ‘Take her out, then!’ Donata moved in front of us to clear a path, her arms outstretched on either side of her. ‘Let’s go!’

  Jack spun me around and twisted my arms behind my back. He marched me towards the exit, just as another gunshot rang out behind us and my heart ratcheted up my throat.

  Donata glanced over her shoulder, her thick black brows pulling together. ‘Zola.’

  ‘She’ll have to follow us,’ Jack shot back. ‘There’s no time.’

  I tried to wriggle free, tried to scream, but everyone around me was screaming and running. Hundreds of students losing their shit at the exact same time. It was the perfect distraction. Jack twisted my arm harder, and a flash of agony made my knees go weak. I cursed at him, and Donata turned around and punched me in the side of my cheek. I spat in her face.

  She recoiled, let her temper fly again, but this time I ducked, and her fist caught Jack on the chin. He loosened his grip for a split second, and I slammed the heel of my shoe into his foot and then dropped to the ground. The crowds surged around us, and he tripped, his foot catching on my ankle as I slid away from him. Everyone was still clamouring for the exit, and we were in a funnel of people now. I crawled through them, putting as many bodies between us as possible as shouts of ‘Police! Police!’ rang out.

  I looked back only once, and caught the panic in Donata’s expression, the wisps of dark hair coming loose around her face, as Jack grabbed her and pulled her towards the door. She was almost outside, disappearing into the pandemonium, when she pulled her gun and fired a shot in my direction. I slammed my body flat against the ground and watched the bullet lodge less than a yard from my face, nearly catching a girl in the ankle. She shrieked as I clambered past her.

  Another distant gunshot blasted through my train of thought. I rolled to my feet and followed it, leaving Jack and Donata behind me, caught in swirls of panicked teenagers herding them towards the police. I knew they couldn’t risk getting caught. Well, Jack wouldn’t. Donata was so crazed with grief, she probably would have come back and shot me right in the middle of the gym if he hadn’t dragged her away.

  Another gunshot, and one thought pounded out all the others as I slipped through the double doors at the far end of the dance floor, and into the bowels of the school: Luca.

  Here, there was only darkness. Darkness, and shouting, and hurried footsteps echoing down endless corridors filled with lockers.

  ‘Give it up, Falcone!’ Zola Marino’s voice was higher than I expected, her words marked with a strange cadence that reminded me of her sister, Sara. ‘Surrender and I’ll let you die quickly!’

  I slipped my shoes off and kept to the side of the corridor, inching along the lockers and following Zola’s taunts. If she was scared, I couldn’t detect it.

  ‘Why don’t you save me the trouble and just shoot yourself, Zola?’ Luca’s response was deadly calm. He wasn’t injured, despite all the shooting. Relief rippled through me, but it was short-lived.

  Another gunshot rang out.

  ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are!’ Zola cooed. The shot had shattered the CCTV camera just around the corner from me. It fell in shards just yards from my feet. I was close. ‘You look so shiny in your tux, Gianluca. My mother would love to brand her black hand on it. Right after she’s done with your little plaything, of course. She’s probably cutting her fingers off right now.’

  ‘You’re a bad liar, Zola! Always were!’ Luca’s laughter echoed down the corridor, but it was strained and forced.

  Zola was getting angrier, her composure slipping. ‘You won’t be laughing when I put a bullet in your head! I know you’re cornered down there.’

  Zola was right. I could tell she was closer to me. Luca was at the other end of the hallway – a dead end, and there was only so many rows of lockers that could protect him. He couldn’t come out. Not before the police or Zola closed in on him. The only options were to crouch and hide, or to try and shoot his way through.

  ‘Nothing else to say?’ Zola goaded. ‘Are you worried about your jewel? My mother won’t be quick with her. She wants to bring her home, take her time.’ Another gunshot. Zola cursed. ‘My fucking foot.’

  I edged closer, heels in hand as I peeked around the corner. Zola was limping down the corridor, half of her dipping towards the floor, her suit jacket hanging off one shoulder. She was moving away from me, leaving a track of blood behind her. She was shooting indiscriminately at where Luca was hiding.

  Luca rolled out of the space between the last locker and the wall, and they shot at each other at the same time. Luca cursed, tried to shoot again, but the click echoed down the hallway. There were no more bullets in his gun. Zola fell to the side, reloading in a blur, and when she raised her gun at Luca, I knew it would be the last thing Luca ever saw. I started running, my arm pulled back, and fired my stiletto through the air, straight into the side of Zola Marino’s skull. She warped sideways, flinching, and the shot meant for Luca careened into the wall.

  I slammed the other heel into the side of Zola’s head, kicking out the backs of her knees at the same time. She whirled on me, blocking my view of Luca. We tumbled to the ground together, Zola’s gun pulsing jet black in my periphery, her fingers grappling for my throat.

  Just as the distant sound of sirens cut across the deserted hallway, she grabbed me by the neck and rolled on top of me. She bared her teeth, her tongue peeking out between t
hem. I pushed my fingers into her eyes, grabbing my shoe with the other hand. The glitter on her lips helped me focus on my target.

  ‘Here’s your jewel,’ I yelled, slamming my shoe into her face and hearing the bones in her nose crushing underneath it.

  She lurched to the side, her gun held high, and then the sharp sound of a gunshot slammed into my eardrums, and for a split second I felt searing hot all over.

  I keeled over, clutching at the pain lancing through my body, trying to find the source, trying to focus my thoughts.

  My shoulder was on fire.

  Luca yanked Zola backwards and pistol-whipped her in the side of the head. Her next shot lodged in the ceiling. Luca wrestled the gun from her and threw it sidelong towards the other end of the hallway. It clanged off a locker and skittered from my view.

  Zola groaned, and Luca hit her again, the crushing sound of metal on bone reverberating around us. She slumped over, unconscious.

  The blood was pooling from my left shoulder, leaving a river of warmth all the way down my arm. ‘Luca,’ I said, hearing the fear colour my voice. ‘She shot me. I’ve been shot.’

  ‘Cazzo!’ He hunkered down and traced his finger around the wound, pulling my arm towards him. I cried out and he flinched. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured, examining it in the darkness. He shuttered his expression. I could almost pinpoint the moment he slipped back into commander mode, and for once I was glad of it. If we were going to get out of here unscathed, one of us had to have our wits about us.

  ‘There’s no bullet inside the skin.’

  ‘It hurts.’ I gasped a shallow breath. ‘Why does it hurt so much?’

  ‘A graze,’ he said, his eyes tracking the streams of blood on my arm. ‘A bad one. I’m taking you to the hospital.’

  ‘No!’ I hissed, struggling to right myself. ‘I’m not going anywhere near a hospital.’

  He pulled me up on to my feet using my good arm, holding me steady at the waist. ‘Can you walk?’ he asked, urgency flashing across his face. The sirens were piercingly loud now. ‘Do you think you can walk out?’

  The pain was bad, and it was only made worse by the realization that I had been shot. ‘Yes,’ I heaved. ‘I can walk.’