Page 186 of Rosetti Family New York
“I had him tailed,” I say instead. “He spends a lot of time in Queens, shitty building that looks like God took a crap on it. Bloom Street.”
“I can’t believe Maddy kept this from me,” Sloane finally whispers, her voice cracking.
It’s like she only believes in what she can solve—a problem or a puzzle, and this one has her stumped. She shakes her head. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Probably thought she was protecting you.”
She squeezes the bag tighter, and I’m surprised the thing doesn’t explode. I look away, trying to give her some privacy in a place that’s too cramped to hold it. I focus on the details instead—the stack of textbooks on the coffee table, the bright yellow mug left out on the counter, the picture frames crammed with faces I don’t recognize. Shit ton of half-dead potted plants.
She runs a hand through her hair, leaving it wild.
“So you're really helping me now?“ she says.
It’s a simple question, but I feel the weight of it pressing in. What I did tonight, taking her side, pissing off the Callahans, broke the rules I’d set to keep us both whole. I cut myself out of her mess for a reason, and now I’m right back in.
She looks at me, waiting, and there’s more in her eyes than I can handle. More than expectation. Something like trust that hasn’t been crushed yet. I don’t want to be the one to do it. Not this time.
I turn to face her, watching the way the skin between her eyebrows tightens, and when I answer, the words scrape on the way out, the honesty foreign on my tongue.
"I should’ve helped you the second you walked into my world.”
She draws in a sharp breath. Her eyes go brighter, wider.
“You…” she says, stopping herself as she looks at me like I’m a different person.
Her fingers fidget with the edge of the blanket. I can see the hope rising in her, filling her up. It’s intense, almost overwhelming, and I can’t tell if she’s happy or scared or both.
“Everyone thought I was just making noise,” she says. “Grieving wrong. They didn’t believe me. But you… You actually looked into it.”
She’s different now, like someone’s flipped a switch and lit her up.
I reach out, take her good wrist gently. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”
Her mouth quirks up. “No one ever had you pegged for the caring type, Rosetti.” She tilts her head and looks at me with those sharp, green eyes. “What changed?”
“You’re a pain in the ass,” I say. “But I guess I’m starting to like having you around.”
She laughs, short and real. The kind of sound I haven’t heard in years.
“Maddy’s brother, Lucas,” she says, like she’s opening a new page in a story. “I spoke to him about all this. He wants to help. He thinks—”
“Do you trust him?” I cut in, the words coming out sharp, because trust in this business is a loaded thing.
She nods, and the motion is firm, confident, not a hint of hesitation.
“I’ve known him forever,” she says. “He’s probably the only person who loves Maddy as much as me. Loved.”
The word hangs heavy, and her voice dips as she tries to rearrange the past into something that makes sense.
Too many people, too many variables. All it takes is one wrong move for shit to hit the fan, and the more people there are, the riskier it gets, especially if they’re a loose canon with zero experience.
I shake my head.
“I don’t like it,” I say. “Tell him he’s out. I don’t need some useless brother fucking this up for us.”
She stiffens, and the change is instant, like flipping a switch.
“This is my investigation, Rafe. I appreciate you helping me out and, honestly, I probably couldn’t do it without you, but that doesn’t mean you can storm in and take over,” she says, her words fast and fierce. “Lucas is on the team, and that’s final. No discussion.”
