“Stop it,” Carmine ordered. “Stop right now, Mal. Stop it, you big fucking monster.”
Rolando staggered away, bleeding from his nose and mouth. He was breathing hard and staring at me with abject terror. I wanted him afraid. I wanted him hurt and afraid and dead for hurting Cap.
“Let me go,” I said through my teeth. “This bastard deserves what he gets.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” Carmine said. My friend was so close to me. Touching my arms. His voice was so familiar, but I was having a hard time processing. He should’ve been dead. “He saved me, Mal.”
I weakened then. “How? What happened?”
“That night, Balestra came fast and hard. We didn’t see him coming until he was already inside. The fighting was bad, Mal. Really bad. Blood everywhere. People screaming. I tried to get to my parents, but I was cut off. Some soldiers came and tried to get me to leave, but I couldn’t abandon my father and mother. I couldn’t do it. So I stayed and fought.”
His words kept my rage in check. Rolando stood watching me warily like a gazelle staring at a tiger. I didn’t move and listened.
Carmine continued. “We lost. Even I saw that. Too many Balestra guys. Our soldiers were split in half, some outside, some inside, and we were overrun. That was when Rolando pulled me aside. He said we had to get away. He said there was only one possibility, and I had to trust him. You know what he did?”
I shook my head. “I don’t have a clue.”
“He dragged a corpse from the hallway into my father’s study. He put my watch on its wrist and hung my medallion around its neck. You remember the one?”
“I remember.” Carmine always wore that stupid necklace. It’d been a gift from his father. Gold and diamonds embossed in the shape of a stag. The image of the Falsone family.
“The dead guy was about my height. A little older, but it didn’t matter. Rolando set a fire. He got all the fucking books burning. Rugs burning. Curtains blazing. There was so much smoke and guys running around screaming, and blood all over the fucking hallways. Nobody noticed when we snuck down the back stairs. We ran into the city, got a bus out of town, and I’ve been out here ever since.”
I let the story sink in.
Carmine wasn’t dead, because Rolando saved him. Rolando thought fast and faked Carmine’s death, allowing him to get out of there. Whether Balestra believed the false corpse or not didn’t matter. Balestra needed Carmine dead. So Balestra went with it.
“What I don’t get is why he’s been working for Balestra,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could.
“He’s working for me.” Carmine’s grip loosened. “I sent him back. I told him to ingratiate himself with Balestra. He’s my double agent.”
I stared at Rolando. He stared back and nodded. “It’s true,” he said. “I did everything I could to make Mauro believe I was on his side. Everything.”
I felt my blood boil.
The bastard hurt Cap. He hurt her in order to make her father think he was on their side. He did it thinking it was the right thing.
He did it for Carmine.
“Let me go,” I said quietly.
Carmine’s hands fell away. “You get it now, don’t you? I’m sorry he knocked you out. I really am, but it was necessary to get you out of that ambush. He dragged you into his car and told the others he was going out to bury you. Then he drove you here.”
“This isn’t about me,” I said, staring him down. Watching him like a predator. “He beat Cap. He hurt her on Balestra’s orders.”
“I was doing my job,” Rolando said angrily. “You think I wanted to hurt her? I kept her alive.”
“He beat her just like her father used to.”
Carmine was quiet. He didn’t move an inch. I knew what Carmine thought about this whole thing. We’d talked about it at length. What we’d do to her father if given the chance.
Now here was one of Cap’s abusers.
“I helped her,” Rolando said. “I gave her information about the guys you were hunting. If it weren’t for me, Mauro would’ve gotten one of his more enthusiastic soldiers to do his dirty work, and she’d be in much worse shape. I helped her.”
“You think hitting her was helping?” I stalked toward him. Carmine didn’t stop me.
He inched away. “Stop this,” he said. “After everything I did for you? You’re going to let this animal kill me?”
My hands clenched into fists. “I may be an animal, but you’re worse. You’re a bug beneath my shoe.”
“Don’t kill him.” Carmine’s voice was a command. It was an order from the one person I always obeyed. It made me hesitate a foot away from Rolando. “Don’t kill him,” Carmine repeated. “But get very close.”