Angelo didn't reply. His jaw was set grimly. Willow's words were ringing in his ears, and he couldn't help but wonder if they were coming to pass just as she had predicted.
He had always been several moves ahead, but this game of chess had become infinitely more complex of late. The game was being played across dimensions by some players who were yet to fully reveal themselves. He could feel their hand in matters, though he could not identify them.
It took all manner of evasion maneuvers, changing vehicles and clothes until Angelo was satisfied they had probably lost their tail for the moment. Throughout all the necessary chaos of running, Gemma was near-silent, occasionally sniffling companion. Bobby tended to her like a worried boyfriend. Those two were too close. It was dangerous. It was a distraction. If it hadn't been for Bobby worrying about what was happening to Gemma, he would have noticed operatives infiltrating the house.
Someone wanted them alive, and that was the only reason they were alive. The feeling was deeply unsettling to a man like Angelo. He could feel strings upon him. He had lost his customary position of puppet master and had become the puppet.
An Apology
Escape was the only option, and this time a car ride was not going to suffice. More distance was needed.
They took to the skies in a plane bound for a destination so distant nobody would have any chance of following them. Italy. Or maybe France. Or maybe somewhere else. Bobby didn't care. All he cared about was Gemma. He knew all too well what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of Angelo's punishments. He was used to them, but Gemma was not.
Angelo had whipped the hell out of her. She was still shaking a good hour after their escape. She kept her head buried in his chest, refusing to answer his most simple of questions. Bobby held her close, trying to comfort her, knowing that she would be burning and aching with the effects of Angelo's misguided interrogation. When Angelo went in, Angelo went in with the intention to break. It wasn’t just the physicality of the punishment, it was the energy he brought to bear which truly crushed resistance. The first time under Angelo’s punishment was something you never forgot. And maybe something you never recovered from.
Angelo was sitting in front of them, taking up two chairs with his long, powerful frame. He was saying very little, looking out the window into the dark night sky, which provided a blanket of darkness under which they were hopefully making their escape.
"Angelo…"
"What is it, boy?"
"It wasn't Gemma. They used her. Set her up. Framed her."
"Yes, boy, I get the idea."
"So, I guess you owe her an apology."
It was bold to tell Angelo that he needed to say sorry to Gemma, but it was better than the alternatives, all of which involved Bobby cursing Angelo out and no doubt ending up in a similar state to Gemma.
Angelo looked at the still shivering, welted, tearful young woman who had borne the brunt of his ire and knew he owed her far more than an apology. He was not a man who was often wrong. He was not one to be outwitted. He was also not one to apologize.
"Gemma. Look at me."
It took her almost an entire minute to obey him. She turned ever so slowly in Bobby's arms, and when she did present her face to him, her eyes were downcast, and her expression was full of so much misery he barely recognized her.
He reached out and brushed some stray curls from her eyes. She flinched, predictably. There was no reason for her to trust affection from him now, or ever, for that matter.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Very sorry."
"Holy shit," Bobby cursed under his breath. "Didn't think you had it in you."
"I can apologize, boy. I've just never been sorry for anything I've done to you."
Gemma just barely dared look at her tormentor, the man she wanted so badly to hate but couldn't. She closed her eyes against the tears which threatened to burst free and hid her face in her arms. Angelo was pain incarnate. He was ruthless and brutal, and she would never forget what he had done to her.
"Please," she whimpered. "Let me go. Drop me off somewhere. Anywhere. Leave me on the tarmac at the next airport. Just stop making me be part of this."
"No."
It wasn't Angelo who refused. It was Bobby. Bobby still had his arms around her, and she was still cradled in his lap. He cared for her in some strange, intangible way. She really didn't know why. She didn't offer Bobby anything.
"Why not?"
"Because you belong with us," Bobby said simply. "I know he was rough with you, but that's not going to happen again. You're under my protection."