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“None taken. She’s not Irish. She’s mine.” The possessiveness in my voice surprises even me.
Sal looks ready to vomit. “Fucking kill me right now,” he mutters.
I glance at my watch and snarl, “You might get your wish if you don’t move your ass now. You have two minutes. We’re on a clock here.”
I need to get back to Addy. I promised her I’d be with her today. It’s been five days. Too long.
As Sal disappears back into his room, my gaze lands on the Braille book on the coffee table. The raised dots seem to mock me, a tangible reminder of how this all began.
If Kira had seen me talking to Addy that day in Loyola gym, she would have warned her away long before either of us had the chance to sink hooks into each other irrevocably. And now, I can’t help but wonder if Sal isn’t already heading down a similar path with Kira.
God help Kira because Salvatore is messed up.
***
The tense silence in the car is broken only by the purr of the engine. It’s unusually silent because Sal keeps fidgeting with his phone, dialing and redialing a number obsessively, and fiddling with his cufflinks, a nervous tick I’ve never seen before. It sets my teeth on edge.
“What?” I bark when I’m inches from planting my fist in his temple.
He shrugs. “You don’t want to know.”
“Sal, if you don’t spit it out right now—”
“Kira’s unreachable—her phone is switched off.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to know. Maybe she’s come to her senses and doesn’t want your ‘friendship’ anymore.”
“No, we’re good. Very good, actually.”
“You can’t be all that good if she doesn’t know that switching off her phone doesn’t deter you from finding her.”
“She knows I track all my friends and doesn’t mind me doing the same to her.”
“Really?” Part of Sal’s job is keeping tabs on the Capos, which is a welcome layer of security should anyone get ambushed or kidnapped. To anyone else, it would be a gross invasion of their privacy. I’m surprised Sal is open about it, even more so that Kira lets him do it.
“So, what’s the problem then?” I ask. “She probably forgot to charge her phone.”
“Dante, the problem isn’t the cell phone being off. The problem is where the phone is right now.”
“Where is it?”
“Her phone has remained in a single spot at Logan Airport for the past four hours.”
A dark chill settles in my bones. “Kira hates flying.”
“Precisely. This is what is driving me up the wall, Dante. What the fuck is she doing at an airport with a switched-off phone for four hours.”
Before we can say more, the huge composite gates of the De Luca estate loom. They slide open silently as we approach.
“He knows you’re coming,” Sal states the obvious.
“Of course. And I bet he also knows why.”
The driveway, lined with perfectly manicured topiaries, winds its way up to a mansion that wouldn’t look out of place in the Italian countryside.
“Jesus,” Sal mutters, eyeing the stone fountains and marble statues dotting the expansive lawn. “Forget Intelligence, I should’ve been on the Narc’s side of the business.”
I shoot him a wry glance as we pull up to the front of the house. “You can’t stand drugs anymore, Sal.”
