Page 89 of Last Hand

Pity.

He has no arms. No control. No privacy. Every meal shoved down his throat by the woman he pissed off by killing her mother, or so she says. And still, he lives. Because shewon’tlet him die.

And he knows it. That might be the worst part.

When Fallon’s finished feeding him, she wipes his chin with the edge of a napkin like a nurse caring for a patient. Then she stands, hands pressed to her lower back, stretching slightly against the weight of the baby inside her.

Leone loosens the chains on the bolt. Igor sags forward, exhausted.

Fallon picks up the bowl, which is empty now, and turns without a word. As she starts walking toward the stairs, I speak up.

“Why?”

She stops. Doesn’t look back.

“Why not just let him rot?”

Fallon finally glances over her shoulder, expression unreadable.

“He killed my mother,” Leone moves past me and grips her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“That isn’t good enough, there is something you’re not telling us. You barely knew the woman and would have us keep him locked down there for months. Let us kill him,” Leone pleads.

“No, if you do before I say otherwise, I will make you sleep in the basement.”

“You’ll make me sleep in the basement?” he scoffs. She arches a brow at him.

“Then I will!” she says, knowing Leone would put himself in the basement before allowing her to sleep down here ever again.

Leone grits his teeth, and lets her go, and we watch her wobble up the steps.

“She is driving me insane with how she is keeping him like he is some pet.”

“Well, I’m not sleeping in the basement. Be my guest.” I grip his shoulder and follow her back inside the main part of the house. Reluctantly, Leone locks the door and follows after me. Reaching the main floor, I spot Rocco come in with a box.

“A parcel was dropped off for you?” he says, reading the name on the parcel before handing it to Fallon. She reaches for it excitedly and takes it from him. Rocco has been quiet since learning about Sienna; he spends most of his time away chasing up people for Leone now. He seems to have to keep moving, never staying long before he is asking for more work from Leone.

Leone seeing her with the parcel groans. “I swear if that is something I need to build it's going in the bin,” he groans. She shakes the box which sounds like it has another smaller box inside it.

“Nope, nothing like that,” she says excitedly before rushing off up the stairs. Leone reaches for her as she moves past him, and she holds the box out of his reach.

“Nope, this is what you get for denying me,” she snaps, stomping up the steps. I glance at Leone who is watching hermove up the steps. He turns to look at me and I shrug. I have no clue what she bought.

Turning back to Rocco, I take him in. He looks rougher than normal, days old stubble growing on his chin, dark circles under his eyes like he isn’t sleeping. “You staying this time?” Leone questions and he shakes his head.

“Rocco…” Leone sighs.

“Do you need me here?” Rocco asks.

“Always, you just—” Rocco shakes his head.

“I’ll stay for a few days, then I need to leave, your father asked me to go do a job for him.”

“A job? You mean a hit?” Leone asks.

“Unless you need me for something?”

Leone pinches his brow and sighs. “No, go. I can tell you want to, just come home afterward. We need to talk,” Leone tells him, and Rocco nods once before leaving. Leone and I watch after him worriedly as he leaves, closing the door to the patio behind him.

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