Protected By the Monster

He nodded, nice and slow. “I have an alternative plan, in that case.”

I took a deep breath then slowly let it out. “Forgive me, uncle, but I don’t trust you,” I said. “I don’t trust you at all.”

He laughed. “That’s fair,” he said. “You have no real reason to think that I have your best interests at heart. But hear me out, and maybe you’ll change your mind.”

I shifted, foot to foot, then gestured at him. “What’s your plan?”

“You’ll be bait,” he said, smiling.

“No,” Luca said, right away.

“How?” I asked.

Luca pressed his hand harder against my hip. “Clair, no,” he said. “You’re not putting yourself in danger for this.”

I pushed his hand away. “How?” I asked again.

“We’ll offer a trade,” Uncle Luciano said. “Your money for your mother. We’ll dangle you out there like a tempting little prize, and I promise you, niece, the Jalisco won’t be able to turn you down.”

“That’ll lure them out,” Vincent said, his voice musing. “It’ll definitely get them out of hiding, wherever they are right now.”

“And what then?” I asked.

“Then we kill them,” Uncle Luciano said. “I’m betting they think we’re hurt, very, very badly hurt, that we’re going to give your money up in exchange for your mother and a truce. They’ll think we’re bleeding, and a truce is the best we can hope for, but when they step out of the shadows— we’ll be there.”

“That’s too dangerous,” Luca said. “It’ll put Clair and her mother right in the crossfire.”

“Yes, it will,” Uncle Luciano said. “And they might both get killed.” He didn’t take his eyes off me, kept staring at me like he wanted to read my expression, like he wanted to see through me and into my deepest, darkest recesses. “It’s an enormous risk, Clair. You might not make it through, or your mother might not make it, or you both might end up splattered on the pavement. But it’ll help avoid a prolonged war, and it might even end things.”

“You can’t,” Luca said.

“I’ll do it,” I said.

“No.” Luca stepped toward me, but I moved away from him, watching my uncle. “Clair, this is stupid. There are other ways. We can—”

“This is the best way,” I said. “It’s the fastest, it’s the cleanest.”

“She’s not wrong,” Vincent said. “We’d probably avoid the worst of the wars this way.”

“It’s wrong,” Luca said. “I’m not going to let you dangle her out like bait. I’m not going to risk losing her.”

“It’s not up to you,” I said, turning to him. I felt myself soften, just a little bit, at the look in his eyes. I could see the anguish, the frustration— and the desire for me. “You tried your best to keep us safe, but they got my mother anyway. And now it’s my turn to do whatever I can to get her back.”

“Clair,” he said, voice pleading.

“They took my father away,” I said. “I won’t let them take my mother.”

He stared at me and shook his head, his eyes so sad, his body tense and angry.

“Then it’s settled.” Uncle Luciano shifted in his chair. “Roberto, if you’d please.”

Roberto came across the room and helped Uncle Luciano to his feet. Vincent got his father’s cane then helped Roberto get him across the room, toward the door.

“You can stay here,” Uncle Luciano said. “It’s safe, at least for now. We’re moving to a new place, just to be sure, and we won’t stay in one spot for long. If you need me, call my new burner number.” He rattled it off and I watched Luca grunt then pull his phone from his pocket. He typed the number in and nodded.

“I got it,” he said.

“Good.” Uncle Luciano stared at me, leaning for support on Roberto and his son. “We’ll come up with a plan and let you know how it’ll work. I’ll do my best to make sure you and your mother both come back in one piece, but this is going to be a risk.”

“I understand,” I said.

He nodded once, turned away. Roberto got the door, Vincent helped him out, and then they were gone.

I was left alone in the living room with Luca.

Silence fell between us, heavy and rough and horrible. I turned to him and wanted to explain, wished I could make him understand. It wasn’t about him, it wasn’t about me, it was about my father and my mother and everything that had been taken away from her.

For so long, she lived a half-life, the rest of her self torn away when the mafia stole my father. Now they wanted to take more from her, wanted to take everything else she had left, and I couldn’t let it happen.

I wouldn’t let it happen.

“This is a bad idea,” he said, his tone dripping with fear and anger, but also a hint of resigned sadness I didn’t expect.