Page 106 of Taking Care of the Target

Vince looked at Cassie, she looked back at him, and then he took her hand as they entered the courtroom to await the verdict.

He’d been so proud as she gave her testimony—the nurses had marked him asdischarged against medical advicewhen he left the hospital a day and a half after being shot, but there was no way he was going to miss her testifying against Carlo. Her bruised nose, slightly blackened eyes, and cut lip earned a lot of wide-eyed looks and even a few gasps from the jury. Yet she’d still looked beautiful as ever as she answered both lawyers’ questions, no fear.

Of course Uffizi tried to argue her injuries would unfairly persuade the jury, but the judge had shut that down. Then the asshole tried to make it sound like she was infatuated with Vince and was lying for him.

She responded by telling him exactly how many times Vince had saved her from Carlo’s attempts on her life, including their run-in with Jack “Jackhammer” Mangano. The defense still tried to present their case after that, but it was like trying to diffuse a bomb after it went off. Anyway, that was how it looked to Vince, and he hoped the jury felt the same way.

In a few minutes they’d know.

“Ready?” he asked Cassie, sliding his fingers between hers.

“As I’ll ever be.”

For weeks they’d lived in limbo, sleeping with guns by their beds, always waiting for someone to come after them. His right arm was still in a sling, and his shoulder ached plenty but got better every day. Cassie’s face had fully healed, and she’d gone back to wearing her glasses more often than not.

As tough as she’d been through the process, it had still beaten her up pretty badly. She experienced bouts of guilt over what happened to Tom Duffy and Deputy Florez, along with occasional nightmares that involved the murder she’d witnessed and the night with Jackhammer.

Vince’s guilt mostly came from pulling her into his messy life, but his love for her eclipsed it. He decided instead of letting regret fill him, he would do whatever it took to be worthy of her choosing him.

Bobby sat on Vince’s other side. “They’ll see it,” he said, and Cassie and Vince both nodded, because no one wanted to think about what would happen if they didn’t.

The courtroom was twice as full today, reporters and people from the community out to see how the trial that’d made their lives hell turned out. Then of course there were the usual suspects—Carlo’s family, friends, and associates, who took turns glaring at him, Bobby, and Cassie.

Everyone stood as the jury entered, and Vince’s gut went to churning. The judge instructed everyone to have a seat. He said he understood they’d reached a verdict, and the jury replied that they had.

Carlo stood.

Cassie gripped Vince’s hand until circulation to his fingers cut off, but he let her hold on as tight as she damn well pleased.

“On the count of first degree murder in the case of Eduardo Alvarez, how does the jury find the defendant?”

The jury spokesperson started to answer, but had to clear his throat. Someone retrieved a glass of water, and he took a big gulp. The whole thing seemed to go in slow motion, and Vince had to refrain himself from yelling, “Just tell us already!”

The man cleared his throat again. “Guilty.”

The audience gasped, some relief, some shock, and Cassie turned and hugged him. He held on to her as a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time went through his chest. Hope. Genuine, honest-to-God hope.

We’ve actually got a shot at starting over.They would still have to be careful, because there’d be people who took over here and associates in New York who’d be happy to get their hands on them, but it just got that much harder for Carlo to do it.

The jury also came back with a guilty verdict for conspiracy to commit murder and the counts of racketeering and extortion. The judge checked it was their true verdicts and set a date for sentencing.

The courtroom started to clear, and Vince, Bobby, and Cassie stood to leave. Carlo called Vince’s name.

He froze for a moment before turning around. He wasn’t afraid—his uncle could say whatever he wanted. Too much had happened for him to feel guilty about turning him in anymore.

“I took you in like you were my own,” Carlo said. “I asked you to be my right-hand man. I would’ve given you whatever you wanted. Things could’ve gone so differently.”

“You wanted to control me. To force me into a life I never wanted. But I could’ve let it go if you would’ve just let Cassie live and left my brother alone. We all make decisions we have to live with. I’ll live just fine with mine.”

A tiny bit of the anger drained out of Carlo’s expression. Nothing to make Vince feel like they’d resolved their issues or they were even close to cool, but more like a glimmer of understanding.

Then the bailiff came to take Carlo away to his new home. Allegra called after him, her cries turning to wails, and Vince’s focus returned to getting Bobby and Cassie out of here so they could leave this place and this life in the rearview mirror for good.

The U.S. Marshals who’d been their constant shadows ushered them out of the courtroom and toward the back exit. Cassie laced her fingers with Vince’s and squeezed his hand. “This is going to be the start of our lucky streak, I can feel it.”

Vince smiled down at her. “My lucky streak started the day you walked into Rossi’s.”

“Are you sure you’re not thinking ofunlucky? Since then I’ve been hit by a truck and lost my memory, we’ve been shot at several times, you’ve been hit once, and I don’t even want to think about the stab wound.”

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