My chest tightens at the mention of a future with his daughter. My fate with Amelia hasn’t been resolved. I want to keep her, but the unknowns of tomorrow leave it almost impossible.
“Wait. I don’t need no cop breathing down my neck about the Sicilians.” Frank holds up his hands, unwilling to accept this deal.
“I strongly suggest you reconsider it. I know your friends across the pond won’t be happy to know Lugazzi ratted your plan out to the Feds. My words before were a warning. Let your partners know they’re in jeopardy and back out of the deal. That’s all the warning I can give,” I state, hoping Frank will be happy to blame Lugazzi if he needs an out with the Italians. “And you won’t need to worry about me. When this is over, I’ll be reassigned.”
Raphael places both hands on his cane and looks at me quizzically. “You’re leaving? What about Amelia?”
“I took an oath.”
“As did I and here I am turning my back on the family to do what’s right,” Raphael explains. “Let me ask you a question. You like what you do? Pretending to be something you’re not?”
Yes, I want to answer, but something stops me. I’ll always love being in law enforcement, but there’s been a change in me. It was the day I told Amelia who I was. Who I really was. The son of a geography teacher and bank teller. A brother and grandson. A man who steals things from his family to keep them close because he misses them like crazy. A guy who enjoys fighting and bourbon and who had his first kiss in a game of Spin the Bottle.
“I used to.”
Frank senses my apprehension. “Something’s changed then.”
It has.
And her name is Amelia Grace Sorrentino.
Raphael just nods. “Maybe I will be able to depend on you after all.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Amelia
If I thought my mother was overprotective after I was caught in the crossfire at Villa Russo, it’s nothing compared to coming home with a gunshot wound.
The doctor was at the house when I walked through the door, and my mother turned the kitchen into a triage for my injury. My temperature was taken, the bullet was removed, and a tetanus shot was given, all while she paced and cried over the porcelain tiles.
Thankfully, Gia held my hand the entire time, even letting me squeeze it as the doctor scraped my skin. I was exhausted by the time he left.
But I couldn’t sleep just yet.
I sat down with the two of them and told them the entire story. Even Gia. If I’ve learned anything from this ordeal, it’s that informing her is protecting her. She surprised us all with the maturity in which she took the story. The whole story.
My father didn’t say much, which is understandable. It’s a lot to take in. What did surprise me was his silence. He walked into his office, leaving the three of us alone in the living room. I went to my room and passed out for five hours.
When I woke, my father was gone, and Mom was abuzz with instructions on how to clean my wound, making sure I took my antibiotics, and her general nervousness about what would happen next.
As I got dressed this morning, I knew I needed to be home.
More importantly, I need Jesse.
I hate that we don’t talk on the phone. Before, I knew we shouldn’t because we were being watched. Now, I’m not sure how it might complicate things. All I wish is that we were just a normal couple. No secret meetings or life-altering events.
As I look back on our time together, one of my favorite moments is cuddling with him on the couch, watching television. It was simple, boring, and what I wish we could do for the rest of our lives.
I have big plans for him and me—places to travel and food to cook. I want to go to those fights he loves, and the next day, I want to bore him to death at a museum. We’ll go to work during the day and cook dinner together in the evening. It’s a simple dream. One I know he wants too. I could feel it in the way he held me.
I just don’t know if it’s possible. At the end of the day, he’s an undercover agent. He’ll be gone for months, perhaps years at a time. I can’t live like that, waiting for him to come home without knowing if he’s alive or dead.
I’m not that strong.
I drive back to my apartment and let myself in. It looks the same as when I left. The white sheet is still on my bed from when I ran out of here in a rush. There’s still coffee in the pot.
I clean the house and then take a shower, careful not to soak my wound. In my comfiest pajamas, I lie down on my couch and stare at my phone, willing it to ring. When it doesn’t, I get up to open my refrigerator and grab a bottle of water, drinking and walking to the window.
My heart races at the sight of a familiar white car in the parking lot. I drop the bottle and race to the front door. I open it just in time to see the handsome face of the bravest man I’ve ever met standing on the other side.
“You’re here,” I state, excited and relieved.
“I was surprised when I found out you were coming home. I thought they’d tell me you were with your mother.”
“I couldn’t stay at my parents’ house any longer. They were smothering me.”
He grins. “Sounds like they love you.”
I roll my eyes and pull him in. Once inside, I throw my arms around him and lock my lips with his. “I was so worried about you. Where did you go? I waited for you to show up at my parents’, but you never did.”
“I had a lot to take care of,” he
