“Not good enough.”
“I want to die. This is so bad.”
I laugh, but it comes out as more of a gleeful cackle. He grabs a bowl of Froot Loops and hands it to me, then grabs some Corn Pops for himself and settles back against the couch.
“At least you have good snacks,” I point out.
“The cereal shouldn’t have to endure this,” he states. “Cereal deserves better.”
“Maybe cereal will better appreciate New Moon,” I suggest innocently. “We’re watching that next.”
“I don’t understand what I’ve done to warrant such hostility,” Sal says before popping some cereal into his mouth.
He gives it about ten more minutes, then he gives up on his snack and starts running his fingers over the exposed inside of my thigh. Stupid sleep shirt, giving him ideas.
“I will not be seduced,” I declare. “Not until this movie is over.”
“You have to admit, sex would be more fun than this movie.”
“That could be said of most movies.”
“Most?”
I grin at him, popping some sugary loops in my mouth.
“All movies. Sex is better than all movies.”
I shrug, grimacing. “I haven’t seen all the movies in the world. I’m not comfortable making such a blanket statement.”
Sal shakes his head, pushing up off the seat.
“Wait, where are you going?” I ask, grabbing for the remote. “I’ll pause it.”
“I’m going to wash the Corn Pops off my hands, then I’m going to take you into my new study, put your little ass on the desk, and fuck you until you take that back.”
I want to object and demand he watch the movie with me, but… well, that sounds like fun.
He frowns, pulling his phone out of his pocket. I see it’s all lit up, like someone’s calling. “Aw, shit,” he mutters, answering the phone and ducking out of the room.
I do pause the movie, but now because I’m worried.
Impatience drives me to abandon the couch and follow after him. He went down the hall toward the study, but I can still hear the sound of his voice.
Before I can catch anything, he slips into the study and closes the door. Now I can’t hear a damn thing.
He stays in there forever. I remain outside the door in the hall, waiting and waiting and waiting. The longer he’s inside, the more I worry. I slide down the wall and sit in the brightly lit hall with the butter yellow walls, hugging my knees close.
The door finally opens and Sal emerges, stopping short when he sees me sitting in the hall by the door. He cocks his head to the side, then asks, “You hear any of that?”
I shake my head. “Couldn’t hear a single word.”
His eyebrows rise and he glances back at the door appraisingly, nodding his approval. After a couple of seconds, he backs up against the wall and sits down next to me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
Even though he had all that time in the study by himself, he still doesn’t appear to know what he wants to say to me. My stomach is sick with dread, but I don’t even know what I’m most afraid of. If Mateo found us, there wouldn’t have been a warning call. Adrian would’ve shown up at the front door at best, maybe popped up inside the house without even that much warning. The only forewarning might’ve been the muffled sound of his bullet jetting across the room before it hit Sal and obliterated my life.
Sal reaches over and takes my hand, linking his fingers together with mine. I feel only slightly calmer. “There was an attempt on Mateo’s life tonight.”
My anxious heart drops. “What?” Now I pull my hand away from his, prior doubts coming to the forefront of my mind. “You told me no one was planning to—”
“I said as far as I knew,” he corrects, watching me intently. He reaches over and takes my hand again, a bit pointedly. “I didn’t know, Francesca. My dad did this on his own. He didn’t even go through the proper channels, it was—he sent his own guy, the one who was with him when he dispatched Meg.”
“Is Mateo okay? What happened? Did he get hit?”
Sal shakes his head, passing a hand over his face and sighing. “No. He was out with Meg. She recognized Little John from before and pushed Mateo out of the way. She was hit instead.”
Guilt freezes the blood as it travels through my veins. “What?”
“Your brother’s fine.”
“And Meg?”
He shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head. “I don’t know. She’s alive. He rushed her to the hospital. I don’t know anything else.”
I lean my head back against the wall, trying to digest all this. Sal’s dad tried to kill Mateo tonight, even though Sal told me that wasn’t the plan. It didn’t make sense to me that wouldn’t have been the plan, so how could it have made sense to Sal? Is he lying to me, or did he just try that hard to believe his dad because it was what he wanted? I can’t say I’ve never done that myself. I’ve looked past Mateo’s misdeeds more times than I can count, but Sal seems more grounded in reality and less likely to turn a blind eye. Unless it was an intentional blind eye. Unless he does want my brother dead, and he just doesn’t want me to know that. Of course he wouldn’t want me to know that—he knows I would try to talk him out of it.