“I promise you that your brother is keeping her safe. Cait, get him on the couch. He looks awful.”
Cait and Val maneuvered Enzo to the couch and tried to get him to lay down. He wasn’t having it.
Sitting up, wincing some as Caitlin tried to steady him, Enzo’s eyes turned to Val, who wore an expression that bordered on blank. But Lorenzo could see the worry in his sibling’s eyes and started to insist that he was fine as he asked again after Michelle.
“Not with me, fratello,” Val said in a soft voice. “But Frankie has things under control.”
Which was some comfort. Frankie had proven himself reliable over the course of events. Still, he would much rather see Michelle with his own eyes. Agitated, he tried to stand, but his legs gave out, and he was back on the couch with Cait comforting him.
“Enzo,” she urged, “you have to take it easy for a few minutes here.”
“Frankie was supposed to look after the sous chef, too,” Lorenzo said.
“Which he did. The short man’s got people in Connecticut. He’s already on his way. It didn’t take that much persuading. Fact is, he said he was hoping for a change of scenery. And it’s probably a safer place for him right now.”
There was some truth in Val’s words. He could almost hear Adamo arranging for the unexpected train fare, and he wondered if Frankie was along for the ride as muscle.
But did that mean that…?
“And is Michelle with them?” he nervously asked, hearing the emotion betraying his attempt at a steady tone as Adamo lit a cigar and shook his head.
“She is another matter altogether.”
The older man puffed away, and Lorenzo wondered if Michelle had already been bundled off to some parts unknown. That made sense in his mind. After all, she now knew far too much, privy to how her restaurant went up in flames and how her father was, at least to some degree, in league with the enemy. No doubt if she went back to Angelo, Fiorenza would have men waiting to take them both out.
“What about her father?” Lorenzo asked, thinking only of what had to be Michelle’s conflicting emotions.
“Oh, he’s a prize,” Val scoffed. Cait chided him to be still while Val seethed.
“No need to protect him,” Val argued. “Word on the street is that he was more worried about his own skin than his daughter’s. He knew Fiorenza would want retribution for the man he lost.”
Lorenzo’s head spun around this bit of news, and he nervously looked to his uncle who took another hit off his cigar.
“Which is why I’m putting her under my protection,” Adamo said. “She needs our help.”
No argument there. Part of Lorenzo wished he’d had the chance to take the old guy out before any of this was set into motion.
“Where’s her father?” Lorenzo asked in a thick voice.
“Best I can figure is he’s already under Fiorenza’s guard,” Adamo started. “No doubt his crew will comb the city until they find her and exact their revenge.”
“That can’t happen,” Lorenzo said, recovering his strength. He stood, clutching his uncle for support, ignoring the foul-smelling cigar smoke that wafted into his eyes.
“Easy, Enzo,” Adamo said.
“Zio, she only did it to protect Frankie. And… and the restaurant. Why wouldn’t… shouldn’t her father be moving mountains to bargain for her life?”
“You would think that’s what a real man would do.” Adamo’s frown conveyed the gravity of the girl’s situation, and he patted Lorenzo’s back. “I never would have offered to help the stronzo if I knew what sort of man he really was,” he said.
“Rest assured, we’re going to find him.”
Those words came from Val, and Cait made no move to stop him as he strapped his gun at his side.
“What about you?” Lorenzo asked Cait. His friend with the rainbow-colored hair bit down on her lip before she spoke.
“I don’t want any of you to have any trouble,” she started. “But Michelle deserves better than the hand she was dealt.”
She pushed a blue lock of hair behind her ears, staring hard at Val for several long seconds.
“I’ll be careful,” he said in softly. “Everything will be okay, baby. You believe me, right?”
“Surprisingly, I believe you more than anyone else.” She punctuated her statement with a quick peck to his lips before turning back to Lorenzo and kissing his cheek. “And I trust you to look after her,” Cait continued. “Until this is all sorted out.”
It struck Lorenzo as strange that Cait had morphed into her own unique version of a moll. She was loyal, but far from submissive. The kiss she bestowed on his skin was done with the confidence that Val would not express anything in the way of jealousy. To his brother’s credit, there was no jealousy, and Cait took hold of Lorenzo’s hand.
“You looked after me once,” she said.
“I tried to,” Lorenzo responded. His mind flashed back to the computer hacker he saw from across the quad who was worlds away from Michelle. She had not been born into this life, a life of organized crime and danger. Maybe he had done her a disservice by opening the floodgates.
“You did right by me,” Cait insisted, as if reading his mind, while she lifted his shirt to adjust his bandage. She signed softly. “You’ll live to fight another day, Enzo,” she said. “Make sure you come back so you can have another dinner with me.”
Without wanting to, he cringed, and Cait let out a little laugh.
“I think Michelle is far better qualified in that area,” Cait started. “Come closer.”
He was surprised as she pulled his head closer to whisper into his ear.
“She was worried about you. Now don’t worry about her.”
“But I—”
“Help her. Be there for her.” Cait pulled away and patted his cheek. When she smiled, Lorenzo relaxed a bit. If nothing else, he would follow his friend’s advice.
But it still didn’t completely answer his question.
“Where… she’s with Frankie?” he said.
“Val will take you to her,” Adamo said. “I’ll stay here until he gets back.”
Adamo’s order came out in a light but firm tone. He saw Val nod at Cait and felt that his friend would be safe as he turned his gaze back to his uncle.
“You’ll be okay?” Lorenzo asked.
“I always am,” Adamo promised, picking up his cigar once more, and Lorenzo knew that his Zio was the type to smoke when he was already calm. Something about that stilled the raging waters in his soul when he was a child, and the older man stalked about their home speaking in hushed whispers. Adamo forgot his cigars when it was time to strategize. When he felt that he had a straight line to resolution, he lit up, reading Lorenzo and his brothers bedtime stories through wafts of smoke.
“Go, nipote,” he said. “Val will come back, and we’ll find a way to sort this out.”
Having no choice, and wanting to trust his family, Lorenzo let Val lead him down the stairs to the street.
“Hold up.”
Val took a few quick glances down both sides of the street before pointing toward a dark alleyway. Lorenzo followed, and the brothers scurried into a non-descript car. Val backed onto the street and kept a careful pace as he drove down the block.