Page 129 of Rosetti Family New York
Her back arches, and she shudders. Her whole body is tight around me, and then she breaks apart, and I go with her. I stay there, my body in hers, until she’s limp again.
I’m out of the room before she can ask me to stay. I don’t look back, but I hear her roll onto her side.
Downstairs, I hear voices before I see them. My father. Rafe. Emilio. My brothers don’t sound happy, but that’s not unusual.
“Good job, Rafe,” Emilio says, his voice dry as dust. “I’ll get you a cake for the funeral.”
“Fuck you,” Rafe snaps back. “You think this is a joke?”
I step into the room, and the three of them go silent. It’s the Rosetti version of a ceasefire.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Where’s your wife?” my father asks. He’s sitting in the big leather chair, his rosary twisting in his hand. “Maybe she can tell us why the feds hit our lab.”
My blood goes cold. “What?”
“You heard him,” Rafe says. He’s standing by the window, a shadow in black. “The lab’s gone. Clara’s dead. It’s all gone to shit.”
“Start at the beginning,” I say. “And keep Besiana out of it.”
“It’s simple,” Emilio says, leaning back against the wall. “Someone tipped them off. Someone who knows too much. Maybe she talks in her sleep.”
I take a step toward him, and he shuts up. I may be the only one in this family who can’t fucking leave Besiana alone, but I’m also the only one who can keep these idiots from tearing each other apart.
“I suggest you look at the last leak, before accusing my wife of anything,” I growl, deadly and low.
“You blaming me?” Rafe says, his voice like a gunshot.
“I’m blaming whoever’s responsible,” I say. “And it’s not her.”
“That right?” Rafe says, folding his arms. “Last I heard, the feds aren’t even in her father’s pocket. What did she give them, a nice fucking note?”
“Enough,” my father says, his voice deep and final. “Rafe, I told you to be careful. I told you not to let anyone too close. Maybe you don’t listen anymore.”
“I listen,” Rafe says, his face like stone. “You think I told someone? You think I spilled it?”
“I think,” Emilio says, “that it’s no coincidence the lab gets hit right after we bring the Dushku princess home. Maybe you don’t remember what she is. A Dushku. One of them.”
“You done?” I say. My voice is quiet. Too quiet. “You all done?”
Rafe glares at me, his ice-blue eyes cutting through the room. Emilio shrugs, soft and sharp. My father looks tired, old for once, but his grip on the rosary is steady.
“We find out who did this,” I say. “We don’t sit here blaming each other. And we leave her the hell out of it.”
“She’s family now,” my father says. “If she did this—”
“She didn’t,” I say, cutting him off. I don’t raise my voice, but it’s enough to stop them.
“Look, Dom,” Rafe says, his voice almost reasonable now. “I get it. You want to trust her. You don’t want to think she’d screw us like this.”
“She wouldn’t,” I say. “She’s not the enemy.”
“She’s not one of us,” Emilio says. “You should remember that.”
“I’m not saying she’s the rat,” Rafe says. “But she’s got ears. She’s got a father who might want to use them.”
Anger floods me, a red tide that squeezes out logic and caution. I remember her tears, hot against my chest, when she finally told me everything. I remember her voice, rough and broken. Adrian Dushku killed Besiana’s mother and brother, and it broke her. She wouldn’t spy for him in a million years.
