Page 119 of Bitter Poetry
“Yep, all true,” I say.
“What a creep,” Roman says, stubbing out his cigarette before fishing in his pocket for a piece of gum. His wife is pregnant, and he promised her he was giving up. “He had a bunch of pictures of her on his computer. Ettore went fucking apeshit. Thought he was gonna off him then and there.”
I’m only half listening. My eyes are still on Cosmo’s car before my head turns toward the house. “Would you check with the gate for me and see who he left with?”
“Sure,” Kai says slowly. He lifts his radio to his ear and puts a call through. “Hey. You see who Cosmo left with?”
His brows pull together while he listens to the reply.
From where I’m standing, I have a view of the southeast corner of the house. I can see the entire east wall and most of the south wall facing the back. The light went out in the kitchen a while ago, as did the two adjoining bedrooms where Peony and Lillete are staying. Carmela’s room light stayed on a little longer, but that is likewise out now.
“So he wasn’t with either of his brothers?” Kai says into his radio, his frown deepening and his eyes on mine. “Yeah, check with him for me.” He shrugs at me as he lowers the radio. “He’s checking with Joe who was at the gate earlier.”
The ants begin moving under my skin. I stab my cigarette out on the side of the trash can and drop the butt inside.
“You think he might be in the house?” Roman asks.
He’s already lost one bollock. Does he really want to lose them both? Only, Cosmo’s not known for having common sense where Carmela is concerned, is he?
The ants begin marching purposely up and down my spine, urging me into action. “Can I grab one of your earpieces?”
Roman fishes in his pocket and hands his over. I start walking, sliding the earpiece in. “I’m just going to check the house,” I call over my shoulder. “Let me know what Joe comes back with, yeah?”
“No problem.”
He wouldn’t be that fucking stupid… Only, this is Cosmo, who has already crossed lines where Carmela is concerned, and he really would.
I pick up my pace to a jog.
Dante
Helena is waiting in the lounge when we enter, staring out at the yard.
She turns on hearing the door open. Her gaze shifts from me to Leon, who enters behind me, and she frowns. “Leon?” Her laugh is a little nervous. “This is a surprise. Has something happened?”
“Have a seat, Helena,” Leon says, walking forward and indicating the couches that face one another.
Her eyes go to me again, this time questioningly. I ignore her and head for the small drinks shelf where I pour myself a whiskey. We used a company to furnish the house. Another company stocked the pantry and other essentials and will continue to service the home weekly.
Leon sits on the couch nearest the door. Helena still hasn’t moved when I turn around.
“Leon?” I ask, holding up the glass.
“Nothing for me, thanks.”
I pointedly don’t offer Helena a drink. Better to set the tone.
She slowly sits down on the couch opposite Leon. “What is this?”
Leon puts a large envelope on the table between them and nods toward it.
She laughs. I usually fucking hate her laugh, but tonight I enjoy the nervous edge to it. “Whatever this is, you can be sure I’ll be calling Ettore just as soon as you are done.”
“Go ahead,” Leon says, “But you should look at those pictures first. I’m confident Ettore will not view this information favorably and will support Dante’s decision to… forgo his maritalobligations toward you. Or you can do as you’re told and live comfortably here.”
Leon is enjoying this—maybe even as much as me.
Helena snatches up the envelope and flicks through the pictures. Her hands begin to shake, and her expression turns pinched. “This is a setup.”
