The Life: Sacrifice (The Life 3)

“You wanna go shoot some hoops?”

“It’s cold as balls.”

“Downstairs, moron.”

“Oh, yeah, in that case.” Anything to keep you from asking me any more questions. I should’ve known, though, that his nosy ass would jump from one topic to the next without fail.

As soon as we suited up and got on the court, he went in. “So, what’s with you and Gia?” Years of practice helped me not to falter under his suspicious gaze. “What do you mean? Gianna’s with her grandmother.” I pretended confusion though I knew what he was referring to.

After news broke of her father’s arrest, I’d done everything I could to keep her calm. She was scared, something I hadn’t foreseen happening because I’m stupid. I didn’t give any thought to how she’d feel having her last remaining parent behind bars. I’d only thought of the end game, to years ahead when he’d gotten his shit together and could be a halfway decent dad to her.

Her grandmother and aunts, who’d flown in with their husbands, have been helping her settle things back at the house where she’s been for the past two days. Letting her go home hadn’t been as easy as I’d thought, but surprisingly she’d been the one to suggest it, saying that with grandpa here, she didn’t want to be in the way. But that was before she’d heard about her father.

I get the sense, too, that she’d been testing me, wanting me to tell her not to go. I wish I could’ve, but she’d made a very difficult decision very easy for me. I still go see her, though, and we talk on the phone because I don’t want her handling this alone, but the distance was the best thing for her in the long run.

I held her when she cried over her dad one minute and listened when she raged against him the next for the way he’d destroyed their lives. She was happy he was being punished one second and scared of what was to become of her the next. That’s where her family came in, but I still couldn’t just walk away. I’m afraid I’m always going to find an excuse to stay in her life unless I make a clean break soon.

Now that her family has things under control and has taken the reins, I no longer feel as guilty as I did before. I know she’ll be taken care of. I still have eyes and ears in parts of the Fontane residence, so I’ve heard enough to know that she’s genuinely loved. I wasn’t about to leave that up to chance after all.

She’d taken her mother’s portrait back home, and her grandmother had assured her that I’d sent the rest of her mom’s stuff to Virginia before we left. When that bit of news seemed to puzzle her, I had a ready excuse. I simply said I didn’t trust Becky or her daughter not to do something stupid, and wasn’t it great that I’d had that kind of foresight because look what she’d tried to do.

I’d made the lawyer wait a little before sharing that news with Felix. Now he knows that he’d killed the witch for the one thing she hadn’t done. Now he can live with the guilt of sitting on his hands all the times he should’ve acted. Pathetic! Maybe seven years behind bars, which is what the lawyer thinks he might get, will make him face the light.

We threw the ball around for a good hour, neither of us really saying anything, but I knew I needed to put his mind at ease as well. He’s not as bad as Pop, but not far from it. “Hey, have you heard back from the force about the program? You haven’t said anything about it since we got back. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? You’ve got the grades.”

“I should come with you and keep you out of trouble, but nah, you know I’ve always wanted to be a cop.”

“No reason you can’t study criminal justice there and join up later.”

“Nah, this way is simpler. I get hands-on training, and it cost way less.”

“Don’t be an ass. Pop’s had your five-two-nine set up for about as long as we’ve known you.”

“I know, but you know how guilty I am about that. I didn’t become your friend to mooch.”

“Yo, what the fuck? Where’s this coming from?” I know Lancelot, and he’s off, way off. “Did something happen?”

The fact that he looked deflated and wouldn’t look me in the eye told me that I was onto something. What could it be? It wasn’t about me, or grandpa or any of it. “Is something wrong with Unc?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.

“Then what is it?” He did that thing where you put on a bright fake smile and pretend that all is well like that’s gonna work. “Lance!”