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CHAPTER FORTY-TWO ESCAPE

Paulie lifted me to my feet. I grabbed his arm and pulled myself up. My face was prickling uncomfortably, and my mouth had run so dry my lips felt like they might crack open. My mind was a tornado of thoughts – too quick to grasp, too loud to shut off.

‘We’re going,’ he said quietly. ‘Donata and Romano got away. All the others are dead.’

I nodded at the ground, my fingers still clutching at his sleeve. All the others were dead. Now there was only Donata. Only Donata. I tried to focus on that one thought, but the others were roaring inside my head. My father’s eyes, his last attempt to smile. Nic, standing there with gun in hand. Felice crumpling to the ground, that knife in Luca’s arm. Jack, staring, unseeing, at the sky.

All the others were dead.

All the others were dead.

And I was alive.

Did I want to be alive?

‘Come on now.’ Paulie slipped his arm around my back. His voice was gentle but firm. We passed by the Marino casualties, and Felice in between them all. My kill. Paulie didn’t look back. Did he know he was dead? Did he know why?

Did it matter?

The Falcones were swarming in behind us.

Behind me, Elena and Nic were arguing in Italian. Luca and Dom were holding CJ up between them. He was bleeding badly from his left leg.

I looked at my feet.

One foot in front of the other.

One foot in front of the other.

Just keep going. Just keep going.

Walk it off.

Walk it off.

I climbed into an SUV and laid my head back until my face was tilted towards the roof. I didn’t want to look at anyone or anything. Someone climbed in beside me. I shut my brain off. I ignored my surroundings. I pictured a white, blank page.

We sped off, one car after another, away from the perfect row of houses, away from all those dead Marinos, away from Felice, away from my father and my uncle lying side by side on snow-tipped grass, and every last crimson shred of my old family.