Page 135 of When We Fall: Part Two
She sobbed quietly in my arms, her small body shaking beneath the effort.
“His funeral is tomorrow,” Cole continued in a gentle voice. “You don’t have to go?—”
“I-I can’t miss it,” she choked out. “I need to see him! I need to tell him I love him. That-That I-I planned a movie night and bubble bath for us…” She wept harder.
“Fuck,” I snarled, holding her tighter. “Cole, take her.”
Cole immediately reached out and wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against him, whispering to her as she continued to cry.
“Where are you going?” Colten asked.
“I have to find Everett Church.”
Once I did, there would be hell to pay.
FORTY-THREE
ANSON
The last thing I wanted to do was go to one of my best friend’s funerals, but there I was, standing in a church with hundreds of other people who cried like they’d known him.
And who knew.
Maybe they had.
Fox was popular. I never heard anyone say a bad thing about him. The headlines read he died in a tragic fire. No doubt Enzo made sure it was printed that way.
It didn’t matter. Fox was gone. Despite Cole threatening me, there was no way I was going to miss being here.
The last time I’d missed attending something involving Rosalie, this shit happened.
Never again.
If nothing else, I was another set of eyes to ensure no one was going to shoot the place up.
There were armed guards at the doors, though, and people were patted down before being allowed entry. The person who set this up knew what they were doing.
Something told me it wasn’t Enzo either.
I looked across the room and frowned as I spotted someone. It took me a moment to realize it wasn’t Matteo.
“Santino,” I murmured. He looked like my father. Hell, he looked like Fox.
The fact that he was here in Chicago, out in the open, made chills run down my spine.
Nothing good would come from this if Santino De Santis were willing to unveil himself in the middle of this city.
The Carpenter.
I knew his name well. People still whispered it in the underground. He’d been a monster. I think even Matteo feared him.
I breathed out and decided I needed to introduce myself to him since Rosalie was nowhere to be seen.
“Mr. Evans?” I called out.
He turned to face me, no emotion on his face.
“Alessandro,” he murmured, stepping forward.
