Page 43 of A Madness of Crows

Again.

The violent scarring across her chest.

I don’t know when my knees give out. I stare at that bed for minutes, hours, days. And then I’m roaring, roaring my anguish, my broken hands digging into the wooden floor as I let the guilt and fear festering inside meout.

The still healing scars on my body stretch and ache, and I welcome it, beg for it. Anything to take away the agony that drowns me at the memory of turning my back and walking away from her.

At some point, I stumble to the kitchen space. Drag a bottle of vodka from the cupboard and slump down against the wall, embracing the burn of the alcohol as it slips down my throat.

Drown it. Take it all away.

Let me breathe.

Just for tonight, I let it happen. Let myself shatter into the pieces that I left behind on that night as I crawled for them.

I failed them both.

I failed them all.

Day 42 – Dante

“Merda.”

Gio turns at my quiet mutter. I sweep my hand across the familiar space, stopping still in the doorway. “How do you stand it? Being here?”

Caterina’s things are everywhere I look. A silky blue robe tossed carelessly over a chair. A pair of heels discarded next to the couch.

He hasn’t touched any of it.

Gio looks around. “I feel better, being here. And it made it easier to get Rosa out.”

“She’s alright?”

He half-shrugs. “Furious, of course. But she’s safer in Italy than here. At least until it’s all over.”

I take the beer he hands me. “I can’t stay long.”

I have a flight to catch back to Vegas. As per the instructions of ourcapo dei capi, who prefers that we stay as far away from each other as possible.

Giovanni pulls up a seat next to me, and I glance at him. “You look like hell.”

He shrugs. “The campus is a different place now. Matteo has his claws in deep.”

Everywhere. Like a cockroach, Matteo is everywhere we look, spending money as if it’s water to collect as many men as possible, building his little empire on blood and betrayal.

I look around at the empty chairs surrounding us. Seeing the faces that are missing.

“I often sit here,” Gio says quietly. “It reminds me of what we are fighting for.”

Family. The family we created, that Cat brought together.

My response is rough as I stare at the chairs. “I get it.”

A thud sounds from outside, and we exchange glances. My hand slips to my gun as Gio stands, easing his way across the floor to look out of the peephole. Frowning, he shakes his head.

Nothing.

Another thud. A groan.