Nick stepped forward. I was shaking, trembling. He put his hands on my shoulders. I had to admit, the touch felt good and calming, even if every fiber of my being wanted to smack the shit out of him.
Maybe I wanted to believe he had no idea what had happened. Maybe I had misread him entirely. Maybe I was acting completely out of my goddamn mind, and Nick was being an absolute saint by handling this with grace.
No. You know the truth in your gut.
“Izzy, just…give me thirty seconds to talk,” he said.
“Go.”
He gulped.
“I care about you more than anything right now, baseball included,” he said. “I care about Ryan. I care about your family. I care about your safety. I will always care about those things. Even if I found out that you cheated on me and ran away with some other guy, I’d still want to make sure you’re safe. I may not do so happily, but I have great affection for you, Izzy. I don’t know what our future holds, but I know I will always care for you and your son. I will not let anyone lay a hand on you.”
That…
Was sweet…
But it also didn’t directly address the question of if he had ordered the hit or not. He wasn’t going to give that information to me straight. I should have known better.
“OK,” I said.
I didn’t have anything else I could sincerely say right now. The words were nice, sure, but they didn’t actually say anything I didn’t already know. He was saying he’d never hurt me, but that was so easy to say when things were going well.
I just needed some space. I needed to figure out all of this goddamn nonsense and decide if it was worth looking past because it was definitely something I either needed to look around or just walk away from.
“Have a good night, Nick.”
“Can I drive you home?”
I would have laughed if the situation didn’t feel so serious.
“No,” I said. “I’ll call you later.”
Even that felt like a bit much. But it felt like I had to give him something, some crumbs, just to keep him from saying anything more. If I shut him up now, maybe there’d be a chance to talk later.
But one thing I knew for damn sure as I got into my car.
I didn’t feel quite as trusting and safe with Nick Ferrari as I had once assumed. It may have been stereotypical to say, but the mafia always operated with a price; I just happened to see the price tag before the bill came due.
Chapter 23: Nick
“God fucking damnit!” I yelled as Izzy’s car sped off.
You should have just told her the fucking truth. You should have just said that you asked your uncle to take care of him and you left it at that. You can plausibly claim you didn’t ask for his death.
Instead, you were a fucking coward.
I slumped to the edge of the stairs out of the Ferrari estate, feeling broken and beaten. I had so much disgust right now—disgust for the news station airing that report at that moment; disgust at Izzy for walking out so quickly and not giving me the chance to talk; disgust at myself for putting Izzy in that spot and not even saying anything of value when it came time.
I didn’t regret making the request. Maybe I’d have to pay for it when I reached the afterlife, but I didn’t mind making that request so this current life would be a little more peaceful for Izzy. She would never have to worry about Malcolm again.
But I sure regretted not knowing better.
“Are you OK?”
I turned around to see Layla standing at the entrance. I waved her off.
“It’s fine,” I said.
“Nick, what—”
“I said it’s fucking fine, OK?” I snapped.
Layla paused at the doorway for just a second before closing it, leaving me to my own devices—my chance to wallow in my own stupidity.
All I wanted was to know that Izzy and I could go forward and develop a long-lasting relationship. Shit, we’d never had the talk, but before five minutes ago, we basically were a couple.
Now?
I stayed out on those steps, ignoring numerous requests from my parents and other siblings to come inside as I just waited for something, anything, from Izzy. Her last words that she would call me later had left me waiting for a call, but as it dawned on me that “later” could mean anything from tonight to a couple of days to now to “I changed my mind and I’m never contacting you again,” I began to feel more and more morose. The sky even started to darken.
It was probably about half an hour that I just sat out there, moping in my misery. I alternated between a whole lot of feelings, but they all remained grounded in the depression that felt like it was overtaking me.
Finally, after half an hour, my phone buzzed. It was Izzy.
“Home safe. Thanks for dinner. Will talk to you later.”
Well, it was grateful, at least. I didn’t have much hope that it would then lead to anything special down the road, but at least she was—for now—staying true to the idea of reaching out to me at some point. That provided some temporary happiness.
The door opened behind me.
“Nick,” my father said.
“Not now, Dad, I’m—”
“I’m not asking permission to talk to you.”
“I’m a grown-ass man, Dad, I—”
“Nick Ferrari, what the fuck did you do?”
