CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: ENZO
Iknewthedinner was a bad idea when Giovanni informed me of today’s plans. There’s a whole war going on between him and Shefield and yet he wants to keep pretending as if everything is normal.
Which is why we’re in the current situation that we’re in.
I glance in the rearview mirror, my eyes landing on Winter. I’ve witnessed hundreds of men go into shock during their first tour when shit really hit the fan, but even if I hadn’t I’d know that Winter is in shock. Her eyes aren’t quite focused, even though she keeps looking around the car, her head swiveling from side to side. Her body is trembling and I don’t think she’s even realized that she’s bleeding, a shallow cut on her cheek.
She was just drowned a little over a week ago and now this.
My jaw tightens and I return my eyes to the road.
I’ve been trying not to think about what happened. It’s best not to let that rage consume me all over again, especially when I don’t have the full story.
And there’s a whole shootout that I need to have my mind on at the moment.
My breath pauses in my chest at the thought and I pick my phone up, dialing Maximo.
For the third time, he doesn’t answer.
Anger wars with worry and my fists clench on the steering wheel tight enough to tear it apart.
I don’t know where in the hell he is, but he never ignores his phone, especially when I call. As much as he tries to pretend like he doesn’t care about shit, he cares about most things harder than anyone else I know. He’s passionate. And despite what Vito says about him not taking his role as Giovanni’s second seriously, he’s always prepared to do whatever is necessary for his brother.
So where in the hell is he?
My blood runs cold as I think about the alternative, a reason he could not be answering his phone.
Sheffield clearly had someone tracking Giovanni, how do we know they didn’t have anyone on Maximo? And if he’s by himself, it’s possible that he could have been caught off guard and taken out.
No.
I shake my head, telling myself that I’m losing my mind. There’s no way someone got the drop on Maximo.
I dial his number again.
And again, I get no answer.
I switch tactics as my eyes dart to the back seat once again to check on Winter. Her eyes are closed now, but she’s shivering just as hard.
I blindly click on the contact I need, raising the phone to my head and keeping one hand on the wheel.
“Hello?”
“Lucia,” I say, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to talk to her.
“Enzo, what the hell do you want?” she asks and while anyone else would take it as her being rude, I know this is just her personality.
“Is Maximo with you?” I ask her.
There’s silence on the other end of the line.
“Lucia?”
“Are you two having some sort of lover’s quarrel or something?” she asks and her tone holds even more annoyance than before. “I fucking swear, if you don’t leave me out of your shit-”
“Lucia!” I cut her off. “Is he with you?”
“Rude,” she mutters, unfazed by me raising my voice and I wish she was within reach so I could wrap my hands right around her neck. “He’s not here, last I heard from him, he was going out last night.”