Page 186 of Caught in the Crossfire

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CASPIAN

When Max called, saying that he needed to speak with us immediately, I told him to come over as soon as he could.

I met him at the door, yanking it open to see him dressed in jeans—fucking jeans? On Max?—a short-sleeve shirt, and his father’s blue watch. Instantly my nose wrinkled, but before I could question his strange attire, he beat me to unwelcome comments on our appearances.

“You look like shit,” he said while his eyes appraised me carefully, lingering on the dark circles hanging beneath my bloodshot eyes.

“I’ve been up all fucking night. Multiple nights, actually.” I stepped aside so he could walk in. His hands jammed into his pockets, and he avoided my gaze while he entered our home.

He didn’t ask why. His shoulders curled inward as he walked toward the kitchen, looking around like he was looking for someone.

We both knew who.

“No, follow me,” I said while I headed toward Leona’s and my room. His eyebrow raised in a question, but I didn’t answer himuntil he followed me in and I shut the door behind us. His eyes skated around the room, catching on the pieces of our life scattered about. Her hairbrush. Her clothes folded on the dresser. The rumpled bedsheets.

“You were telling the truth when you tortured me, weren’t you?”

He flinched for a second before he pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at me like I had lost my head. “What are you talking about?”

“You told me you never intended to hurt her. That we both could have lived under your protection, outside of the business.” That horrible night had been playing on repeat inside my head since the night he gave me his father’s notebook. I remembered every single word, every single swing of his and Elio’s fists. “You told me then that your father deserved revenge. You were telling the truth.”

“You read the diary.”

“Yeah, I read the fucking diary.”

He sighed, hands still jammed in his pockets. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I scoffed. “Okay? That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say, Cas?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked, trying to catch his eyes, but he wouldn’t look at me. Instead, he wandered over to the dresser and gently touched the earrings and necklace laying on top of the wood. “When did you find this diary? How long have you known about Luciano?”

His jaw clenched. “I came over here for a reason. We all need to talk.”

“No,” I said harshly with a shake of my head. “We’re doing this first. You wouldn’t have given me that diary if you didn’t want me to know.”

His hand dragged down his face. “I found the diary the night of my father’s funeral.”

My eyebrows knit together. That day had been a blur, but Iremembered following him home so he wouldn’t be alone. I remembered breaking into Massimo’s stash of liquor and passing out before I’d finished my second glass. “I stayed at your house that night.”

“You did.”

He found the journal then? Hurt dug into my gut. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You wouldn’t have turned on Luciano, Cas. You would have defended him.”

“There’s no way?—”

“Be honest.” His eyes flicked to mine with a familiar accusing glare. “What would you have done? If I had told you the truth, would you have committed to revenge? Would you have followed me, put the good of the Family first? Would you have made the sacrifices I had to make in order to fix the Family?”

“I…” I paused, considering. Ihadbeen one hundred percent loyal to Luciano. I’d believed that he saved me, gave me a home, gifted me with a life and a job and the woman I loved—even from afar. At fifteen, I…I really wasn’t sure what I would have done.

“Since that day, I have done what I’ve had to do. There has been no room for anything else.” His voice was cold, hard, and dead.

No, he didn’t get to put that on me.Hewas the one who hid all of this shit. He was the one who decidedforme.