Renzo came to a halt beside me. “It’s the right amount of bearing, I’ll have you know.”
“There are guards walking the perimeter on the other side of that wall, Ren, and Adamo is probably lurking somewhere, thinking I don’t know he’s following me.” Speaking of which… I linked my arm with Ren’s and kept moving. “I think we should leave,” I whispered.
He snorted. “Didn’t you just point out the guards?”
“Like that ever stopped us.”
“This isn’t the lake house, Emi. This isn’t Dad trying to keep his unruly teenage daughter in.”
“I fail to see how Giovanni is any better than our father at this point.” I knew the words were unfair, but I was hurt and angry and clinging to my hatred even as I spiraled.
Truthfully, I was drowning without him. Some days it felt as though I was hanging on by a thread after nights full of nightmares. Then my demons would stalk me into my waking hours, too, nipping away at me with sharp teeth and cruel whispers.
I barely slept, rarely ate. It felt as though I was drifting, despondent, lost.
Was this what heartbreak felt like? I’d watched enough movies featuring tubs of ice cream and tears. God knew I’d shed enough tears. Maybe ice cream would help…
What made it worse was that he kept apologizing. Why couldn’t he just let me hate him? I needed to hate him because I couldn’t forgive him. I had trusted him, and he’d nearly killed my brother in front of me. He had hurt me far more than just physically.
Renzo let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Emi—”
“Don’t you dare defend him, Ren.”
“He apologized to me.”
I tried to hide my shock because men like Giovanni Guerra did not apologize. He apologized to me, but I knew he was just trying to get back into my pants. He didn’t actually feel remorse for what he had done. Apologizing to Ren was different… It required him to humble himself. Still…
“So he should. He was wrong.”
“He wasn’t, though.” Ren could not be serious. “I hate that he threatened you, Emi, and I want to kill him for this.” He reached up and brushed one fingertip over the barely visible scratch at my throat. “But you don’t know what happened that night. Some shit went down in Chicago with the Irish, and honestly, if I were him, I’d have thought the same.”
I tried to wrangle the thread of irritation that wound through with the knowledge that Renzo knew what happened that night and I didn’t. But I rationalized that Renzo had given Gio a chance to explain. I hadn’t.
“You wouldn’t have reacted like that,” I mumbled.
The look he flashed me was one of sympathy, the look of a brother to his naïve little sister. “He threatened someone you loved, made you believe he would hurt me in order to get the truth. It’s textbook. I would and have done the same.”
“It wasn’t just some trick, Ren! He did hurt you, and he would have killed you.”
His gaze drifted toward the big oak tree at the top of the hill. “Guess we’ll never know, will we? Because he didn’t.” He shrugged. “All I’m saying is you can’t be mad at him for protecting his people.”
“I can be mad at him for not protecting me!” I shouted, tears prickling my eyes. “I thought he was better than them, Renzo.”
His gaze swung to me, eyes softening. “He’s not Dad or Uncle Sergio or Matteo. I mean, he’s still a Famiglia fucker, but he’s nowhere near as bad as them.”
“Why the hell are you defending him? You don’t like him.”
“Because as much as you talk about running, you know you can’t.”
I blinked at him, a stray tear breaking free.
“He cares about you, Emi. And he’s a scary motherfucker. No one will keep you as safe as he can. Just…don’t hold a grudge for no reason.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “I don’t hold grudges.”
He threw his head back on a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Like the time you didn’t speak to Luca or me for two damn months because we accidentally killed your fish.”
“You gave them beer! That is not an accident.”
“It was a fish. It’s not like you can be emotionally attached to a fish.”
I punched him in the arm. “You’re an asshole.”
We walked up to the top of the hill, stopping beneath the branches of the oak. Our father’s grave was unmarked, but the tree was a far more beautiful tribute than any he truly deserved. This place was full of both pain and peace for me.
Ren threw an arm around my shoulder as though sensing I needed his strength. “It won’t all be for nothing, Emi. Dad’s gone. Soon Sergio will be, too.”
“What will happen to The Outfit? To Luca?”
I often thought of my older brother, worried about him. He may have helped me once, but we stood on opposite sides of the board. If he ever found out that I had killed Father…