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“Did you know I was there?”
He shakes his head. “They told me after the fact. They said you spent the night with Severio instead of with your husband.”
“Oh, Daddy, I spent the night with both men.”
He balls up his fist, clearly trying to restrain himself. I don’t recognize this man’s character. Has my dad always been this violent and I never knew? Did he ever hit my mom? “Go ahead and hit me again. I don’t care.” I slide toward him, ready to leave the pew. “If you don’t let me out of the church, I’ll scream at the top of my lungs.”
“If you scream, Cristina, this man here will put a bullet in the head of everyone in this place.”
Most of the tourists are in the front facing the altar. None of them are paying attention back here. “Nice company you keep.”
“Yours is no better, so don’t you fucking judge me.”
The man on the side of the aisle squeezes my daddy’s shoulder. “It’s time.”
My dad slides out, and the man reaches for me. Even though I don’t scream, he covers my mouth. I kick him, struggling against him as he moves me toward the side exit just as Father Thomas walks out from his chambers.
“What’s this?” He walks toward us, long gray robes fluttering around him.
The man reaches for the back of his pants, and I use the opportunity of his distraction to knee him in the groin. He bends over in pain, momentarily stopped.
Father Thomas charges toward us, but the other man gets in the way. My daddy grabs for me as I make a beeline for the exit.
I trip over someone’s leg and fall onto my hands. I get up right away and glance back. I tripped over the leg of a man dressed in black and looking very dead.
My dad grabs my arm and yanks me up. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. Severio’s guards are all dead.”
On the street, there are people—kids and mothers and grandmothers—and I can’t start screaming for fear my crazy father and the people who are not from our island will start shooting at them.
He pushes me up the street, toward a large white van. The moment he puts me inside the vehicle, he’ll hold me for ransom for whatever they want Severio to do. They’re gambling that I’m worth that much to him. That I’m his fiancée.
In the van, the woman sitting in the driver’s seat widens her eyes as if surprised. A boy next to her turns and asks her something. I was wrong about the van. A mother and a little boy aren’t going to kidnap anyone.
But when Daddy drags me around to the back of the van and opens it, he proves me wrong. They are going to kidnap me, and they’re already holding another person. Another boy, a teenager, this one with dark hair and blue eyes that remind me of Severio. He’s sitting in the back, hands tied behind him, duct tape over his mouth.
This can’t happen to me. It can’t.
“Get in,” my dad says. When I don’t, he starts to plead. “Issi, get in, please. It’ll be okay. Severio will give them what they want and get you back.”
The man from the church is jogging toward us, and I know he’ll force me into the van. I elbow my dad in the ribs and run into oncoming traffic.
31
THERE GOES MY HEART
SEVERIO
Frenchy hosts my uncle’s repast. Having gotten held up trying to propose to Cristina, who, gracefully, saved me the embarrassment of actually being rejected when I asked the big question, I’m late arriving to the restaurant. When I walk inside, everyone’s already seated, drinking, and munching on various cold cuts, dips, and bread.
I make a round and shake hands, paying my respects on the way to the table tucked into the alcove in the back that Cristina’s family used to rent out for all their occasions. It’s the best table in the house.
And it’s full of people I greet and smile at before sitting down.
I haven’t eaten all day, but I won’t eat here, of course. If I complain of hunger to Cristina, she’ll want to feed me, and since I refuse to eat at Frenchy’s, she’ll have to take me home. Or to the villa. Either way, she’s ending up with me tonight.
I miss her, and I’m not spending another night without her, even if I have to move back into the Capone house again and irritate her endlessly.
It was nice seeing her today, even under such grim circumstances. Perhaps because of the grim circumstances. Now, as a widow, she can marry again. After a year of mourning.A scandal about her involvement with me would upset the traditions, but I won’t wait or hide our relationship any longer.
