Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
"Where is she?" Nico growls.
"I sent her back to you twenty minutes ago," I say, still sipping from my glass. Just when I think the liquor has dulled the worst of the pain, I find a new depth to explore. I passed drunk a glass or three ago, but my mind still feels all too clear. "That is what you wanted, is it not?"
Why did she leave? Fuck. Why did I let her go?
"You sent her back to me," he repeats. "Unharmed?"
A rough bark of laughter rips from my lips. I glance at him, my emotions raw. My mind spinning in circles. Amalia's beautiful face hangs like a ghost behind my eyes, haunting me. "My own twin questions the worth of my soul," I mutter. "No wonder she left."
"Who? Norah?"
"Amalia." I take another drink and then sigh. "If I'm lucky, the feds will be here soon to dismantle this fucking empire. It's a noose around my neck. And I was stupid enough to believe it wouldn't claim my life."
Nico eyes me warily. "What happened?"
"I just told you," I growl, not nearly drunk enough yet to rehash this again. But I do anyway. "She left me. She was a beautiful little liar. She made me fall for her, made me need her, and then she just fucking…left me."
"Jesus," he whispers.
"She was a plant, a mole. I'm not even sure her name is Amalia." I laugh again, the sound bitter, mocking. "I fell for it, brother. Like a fucking sinking stone. Ah, well. My downfall should make you happy. It's what you've always wanted."
"I never wanted that," he mutters.
"No?" I eye him over the rim of my glass, surprised. "I wouldn't blame you if you did. You're in love with her. Norah."
"Yes."
"She's a persistent little thing, isn't she?"
"She's everything," he says simply.
"She's free. Both of you. Our deal is off."
Nico cocks his head to the side, eyeing me. "Why?"
Why?
"Because I'm not the heartless bastard you think I am. I'm not as far gone as you think I am. She was never in danger from me, brother. I don't kill innocent women, regardless of what you think of me."
"She watched you kill someone."
"The man who attacked the woman I love," I rasp. "That's who she watched me kill. Had she gone to the police, I wouldn't have raised a hand to stop her. I would have accepted my fate with a smile on my face. The motherfucker deserved to die for the things he's done. No jury would have ever convicted."
"Jesus," Nico whispers, clearly shocked. He never stopped to ask who I killed or why. He never wondered if there was a reason. His moral compass points firmly north and never deviates. Murder is murder, plain and simple.
My moral compass is an inverted pendulum, swinging back and forth. I exist in the gray area where there are no moral absolutes. There's simply Omertà. The code of silence. We handle our own problems, mete out our own justice, and deal with shit our own way. I've never killed someone who didn't deserve it by our laws. I've never targeted a woman or child. I've never been a fucking rat. Everything else is negotiable.
"I wanted you back in my life, even if I had to manipulate you into it," I say, my voice soft. "Maybe that makes me the bastard you've always thought I was. I don't know. But that's over with. You're free. Go live your life. Take care of your girl. Be happy. You deserve it more than the rest of us."
Nico stares at me for a moment like I have two heads. "If you love her, fight for her."
"You're not hearing me, brother. She's gone. Out. Done. And so I am," I say, spelling it out for him. "She has everything they need to nail me to the wall. I gave it all to her."
"You gave it to her?"
I nod. "Some shit is more important than all of this. Some people matter more than all of this. I just wish like hell I'd realized that twenty years ago. Before I lost my brother." I exhale a breath, and then say what I should have twenty fucking years ago. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
For a long time, Nico doesn't say anything. He stands rooted in place, just looking at me. I don't know what he's thinking. When we were kids, I could read him like a book. It's not so easy now. We've had twenty years of silence between us. Twenty years of anger. He thought I abandoned him. I thought I was saving him. Maybe I should have told him the truth a long time ago, let him make his own choice instead of making it for him. I don't know.
What I do know is that Amalia was right…I can't carry it forever. Twenty years is long enough.