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“When is he gonna be ready? Geez. How many years has he been shadowing you? How long has he been imitating you? Copying the way you talk and walk? You and Uncle Manny have been telling him he’s not ready all his life! You’re the reason he has problems with his nerves. If he does this, it may give him the confidence he’s always lacked—”
“Fine.”
She nodded, immensely satisfied. “All right, then.”
“How did she do today?”
She took the change of subject in stride. “A little shaken, but she’s strong. She’s gonna pull through.”
“Yes, she is. You’ll stay with her tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She popped the cork on the champagne and heard a sharp, “What was that?” in her ear.
“Just a bottle of champagne.”
“You’re celebrating?”
“Yup. Lyla staying and Vinny’s new position.” She watched champagne fizz in the glass and said quietly, “Gavin?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re going to keep him safe, right?”
“Of course.”
“You promise?”
“Yes. He’s my brother.”
She closed her eyes and let out a breath. “Of course. Okay. Thank you.”
He cut the connection. She hummed to herself as she grabbed the glasses of champagne and headed upstairs.
14
Carmen woketo the sound of a ringing phone. She opened swollen, itchy eyes and surveyed her bedroom from the floor. Sunlight filtered through the blinds and warmed her body, which she had curled in the fetal position.
The ringing stopped. Her body ached as if she had the flu. Her eyes moved up to the urn, a constant reminder of what she had lost. She curled her toes, and even that small gesture sent a streak of pain to her temples. She swam in a sea of regret and self-loathing. If she hadn’t fought for Vinny to become crime lord, he never would have been killed. Maybe Steven Vega wouldn’t have pegged Vinny as an easy mark and Gavin wouldn’t have gone on a bloody revenge spree, he and Lyla wouldn’t have put off their wedding, and maybe Steven wouldn’t have gone for Uncle Manny …
She curled into a tighter ball to combat the agony searing her insides. She buried the truth because she couldn’t handle the fact that she had orchestrated her husband’s demise. Vinny wouldn’t have become crime lord without her interference. Gavin wouldn’t have allowed it if she hadn’t made that call. Why had she done it? That was what a good wife does. She moaned and covered her head with her arms as if that would protect her from the memories ripping her soul to shreds. She encouraged him to be crime lord to help him be more confident and prove Gavin wrong. It was she who was wrong. She ruined her life and everyone else’s, and for what?
Guilt and more pain than she could bear flooded through her. She took refuge in a zombie-like state for years, but she couldn’t avoid the truth any longer. Gavin signed his cousin’s death warrant. Maddog’s words lashed at her. No, it was his wife who signed his death warrant. All her fault. She writhed on the ground as the pain turned her inside out. She couldn’t stay still, couldn’t put a stopper on it. She instinctively clawed her chest to get beneath her skin to the source of her agony. If she could have, she would have carved out her own heart. Memories of Vinny taunted her. She could feel his hands on her skin, remember the smell of their lovemaking, the touch of his hands cupping her face. She could see his face so clearly.
What did I do to deserve a wife like you?
She screamed to block out the echo of his voice. She got to her knees and gripped her head as she rocked uncontrollably. She couldn’t take much more. She had to make it stop.
The sound of the phone ringing pierced through her hysteria. She spotted her purse and crawled across the carpet and turned it upside down. Phone, tampons, condoms, keys, gun. She touched cold metal and was about to wrap her hands around it when she heard, “Carmen?”
She jerked her hand away from the gun as her mother’s voice broke the spell as effectively as a crowd of people stampeding into the room. She scrubbed a hand over her face and tried to get herself together, but she didn’t have enough time. Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and seconds later, her mother appeared. She bowed her head in an attempt to conceal her puffy, distraught face.
“Carmen?” Her mother was out of breath. “We’ve been calling—”
She dropped to her knees and grasped Carmen’s hand as she tried to sweep everything back into her purse.
“Carmen?”
