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“Woman,” I correct him. “Roisin is more than that. She’s my…”
I hesitate.
There are things that you tell people, and you can’t un-tell them. Truth that once you put it out there in the world, you make it real.
The fact that Roisin is my wife?
I want it to be real. But as of right now, it isn’t. Sure, we got married, but her question from the night before still slithers into my brain.
Pretend.
“Roisin is important to me,” I end up saying, finishing on a really fucking lame note.
Sal hesitates, clearly not buying it. “Whatever, fine. Roisin is important to you. And you’re going to need us. She’s being framed, right?”
“Elio told you, didn’t he,” I grumble.
“I’m literally his eyes and ears out here in the world, bro. He didn’t have to tell me.”
For one second, I think of the security footage. Could Sal have betrayed me?
No.
He wouldn’t.
He’s family.
And family doesn’t do that shit.
“Anyway. Okay. I’ve got some eyes on the Russians, because with Stassi and Liam, they’re being shady as fuck. But I have the feeling this goes deeper, man.”
My senses hone in on Sal, and I step forward. I don’t think anyone at the inn is listening, but just in case, I walk toward the road, past where our car is parked, and glance around.
“What are you saying?”
I can practically hear Sal’s shrug. “I’m not sure. I just feel like this is deep. Old. Something that stinks of family secrets and things that we should have left buried.”
“I still don’t get where you’re coming from.”
“Just something that dad said, a really long time ago. He said that nothing brings up old fucking baggage like when you’ve packed all your shit neatly.”
I snort. “And that makes you think this is old?”
“We dug into Dino’s past, Marco. We dug into it, and we ripped open a big fucking scab, and we didn’t do that easily. He and Marisol are happy, right, but still… there has to be some kind of consequence for bringing the Drakos name back to life.”
I pause.
“There wasn’t anything to bring back. His cousin?—”
“Seems to be perfectly happy. Dino’s dad is dead. The twin is dead. But that shit’s all too neat for me.”
I open my mouth to refute him, but I pause.
Sal’s instincts are good. More than good. Better than mine.
Instead of telling him to fuck off, I nod. “Okay. If you think there’s something, there’s something.”
Sal’s voice is full of disbelief. “Really?”