The Woman in the Back Room (Costa Family)

It was a big deal to kill someone.

It was part of being in the Family, though.

If you were around a member of one of them, it was one-hundred-percent guaranteed that they had blood on their hands. They had to. It was the only way in.

I had blood on my own. Granted, I had never set out to do a hit. And because, when it came down to it, it was my life or his. And I knew the sick son of a bitch would have likely raped me first. So I felt almost nothing when I lifted my arm, slid my finger to the trigger, and pulled.

It was me or him.

But for Santi, for most of the men in the Families, that wouldn't be the case. They would have to do their kills cold. Even if you had a reason, revenge you wanted to enact, the act itself was planned and detached.

I mean, unless you were Brio, who got joy out of it.

But most of us were slightly more sane than that.

"What are we having for breakfast?" Avi asked, still rubbing his eyes.

"Well, that depends."

"On?"

"If you're a traditionalist, or you like to step outside the box."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, you could have some of the bagels Uncle Salvatore picked up. Or you can have cereal. You know, traditional breakfast foods. Or you can be adventurous and make a plate of Thanksgiving dinner leftovers."

"The potatoes were really good."

"Mashed?"

"Yeah."

"They're always good. Even when they're bad, they're good. You can't say that for many things aside from potatoes."

"Pizza," Avi interjected.

"True. Even bad pizza is pretty good," I agreed. "So, Thanksgiving for breakfast?" I asked, reaching into the fridge for the potatoes, stuffing, rolls, turkey, and gravy Celeste had sent home with them. "I think a proper grown-up would insist you have some of these green beans, though."

"But you're not one," Avi said, smile big, happy.

"Well, you've got me there. And, technically, there are some vegetables in the stuffing," I said, making plates for the two of us. "Salvatore, do you want any?"

"I've gained five pounds since I've been out," he said.

"Your words are saying no, but your eyes are saying yes. So it is a yes," I declared, making him a plate as well.

After that, things were normal.

We ate while talking about our Thanksgivings.

Salvatore took the dishes to the kitchen. And then, seeing that example, Avi had jumped up to help.

I understood why Santi and Brit had wanted to keep Avi away from the Family when they'd first found out they were expecting. No one wanted their child to be put at any additional risk. But watching how Avi interacted with all the men, picking up all their individual good habits, I saw how invaluable they were to his development.

Sure, you could argue that they weren't good people. They broke the law for a living. They hurt and even killed people. That said, though, most of the men I knew in the Families were honorable and good, they took care of their communities, they tried to set examples of good behaviors for their children.

Had Salvatore killed people?

Yes, of course.

But he also was loyal to the bone, he helped people without expecting anything in return, and he would lay down his life for you if it was needed.

Though, I hoped it would never be needed.

"Alright. I'm gonna sit outside the door," Salvatore said, drying his hands. "Since we're a little short-staffed until one of the other guys shows up."

"Alright, sounds good," I agreed. "We're probably just going to play some video games. Right, bud?" I asked, giving Avi's shoulder a gentle punch.

And that was what we started to do.

Everything was fine.

I heard the ding of the elevator. And for a split second, I thought Santi was home. I even felt a swelling of excitement at seeing him again, even though I knew I couldn't touch him until Avi went to bed.

But Salvatore's raised voice had my heart plummeting as I shot off the couch.

"Alessa!" he yelled, and I knew that tone of voice. Warning. And panic.

I reached for Avi on autopilot, finding more strength than was normal for me, hauling his body up, and running down the hall. In my mind, furthest was best. So not his room or my own, but Santi's.

It was then I heard the quiet pew-pew sound of a silenced gun, making my stomach clench as I silently prayed it was Salvatore getting the shots off, not someone shooting at him.

Somehow, though, as I pushed Avi into a back corner of Santi's closet behind his suits, hiding the panicked kid away, I knew. I knew it was bullets piercing through Salvatore's skin.

"Listen to me, Avi," I said as the poor kid shook and looked up at me with panicked eyes. "You stay right here, okay? You don't move. Don't make a sound. And don't come out until you hear your dad. Okay? I need you to agree, bud, now," I demanded, hearing the kick to the door.