Last night I was restless. Tossing and turning, unable to get the image of the man I struck out of my head. Or what I’m going to do without a job. Without Emma.
Cale’s gone to work early when Dean and I get back from the gym.
“You can get in the shower first,” I say.
“Aren’t you going to be late?” he asks.
“No one’s expecting me anywhere. I got fired.”
His jaw drops. “What? Because you took that week off? I thought you were making up for it.”
“Wasn’t enough. Look, I don’t want to talk about it, really. It just happened.”
“Okay,” he says with a nod and turns toward the bathroom. Just like that, the topic is off the table.
When he comes out, I add, “I still haven’t told anyone else yet.”
“How mad is your brother going to be?”
“Pretty pissed. I’ll have to look for another job, but I don’t think the three years I spent at IT tech support will get me very far. On paper my skills look like I’m just a call center rep.” I sigh. “I may have to take Mr. Rizzoli’s offer. I’d be doing exactly what I wanted for more than I was making at Wyatt.”
He lets out a deep breath, clearly disapproving. “Look into other options first.”
“Okay.”
“So what are you doing today, then?”
“I don’t know. I have to get out of the house, though. Maybe head to the library or something.” I don’t really know what else to do. And with Michael Bello potentially getting put away, I have no other plans.
Dean sets off for work and I take a shower. By the time I’m done, my phone buzzes with a text from Dean.
Look at the Tribune’s website.
I pull out my laptop and load the site. The first headline reads, Major Drug Bust in Hopman and is dated early this morning. As I read through the article, I smile brightly. Our plan worked. It’s as if I can feel the weight lift from my shoulders. Despite everything that went wrong yesterday, I did something right.
The police seized over two thousand pounds of various narcotics and arrested three men at the scene. Tucker Cross is quoted as saying that the bust helps fill in some missing pieces for other drug rings in the city, even identifying some of the biggest drug dealers.
One of the men arrested was apparently treated for third-degree burns—I sigh in relief that he’s not dead—from an attack from a man in a black bodysuit. The writer goes on to talk about the other sightings of him—me—throughout the city, most notably my visit to city hall a couple days ago. Surprisingly, the article makes no mention of Wyatt Industries specifically, even though it lists the address. It makes me wonder how much Wyatt paid them to leave their name out of it. Then again, with the Martellis having their fingers in a lot of businesses in the city, possibly even the newspaper, it was probably already an unspoken rule.
Even though I know that the Martellis would try their hardest not to have any of their own incriminated in the papers, I’m still disappointed that there’s no mention of Michael Bello. But even if the family wasn’t involved, there would be no reason to name Bello. He wasn’t at the scene, and until Myra pulls through with the evidence I gathered for her, he’s not going to be connected. This mission wasn’t to incriminate him. It was to implode a portion of his business before we move on to the next.
I hit reply to Dean’s text. That’s awesome! I needed to see that today. No mention of Bello or Wyatt.
Didn’t think there would be, he replies. At least it’s a start.
True. It’s a start. Since I was electrocuted, this is the first positive thing to come out of it.
Even though I want nothing more than to meet up with Dean to discuss our next move, I know I need to get to the hospital. It’s heartbreaking to see Emma laid up like she is, but it’s not about me. It’s about being there for her. Like Theresa pointed out, Emma did the same for me.
Theresa’s reading in a chair in the corner when I get there.
“Hey.”
She lifts her eyebrows, but otherwise looks unthreatening. “Hey.”
“How’s she doing?” I run my hand along the bedspread.
Shoving a business card in her book, she sets it down on the table beside her and looks at her sister. “Nothing’s changed, really.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Theresa says with a sigh.
I suck on my bottom lip and force myself to look at Emma. Really look at her. She’s so still and doesn’t quite look like herself with her hair down and without her glasses. She’s lost the color in her face, and unless the monitor told me that she was alive, I’d think she was a corpse.
I clear my throat to get Theresa’s attention. “I want to apologize for not coming as often as I should. You’re right, I should be here.”
“Ethan, you don’t owe me anything. I don’t need your apology. I don’t need anything from you. But if you cared for Emma on any level, you’d be around more than you have been.”
My voice is thick and small. “I know. It’s just—”
“Hard, I know,” she interrupts. “But how do you think it feels for me? After work every night I’m here because I love my sister and I’m afraid no one else will be by her side. And my parents? Forget it. They’re both inconsolable. And yet they still manage to get here more than you, and they live in Terry Lake, not just a few blocks away.”
I nod. My chest is so tight I feel like I want to explode. “You’re right. I’ll try to come more often. But you’ve got to believe me when I say that everything I’m doing is for her.”
She studies me.
We’re quiet for a long time, only the sound of Emma’s monitor and the conversations outside the room filling the space between us. If Emma were awake she’d be worrying about something or another. Getting back to work, inconveniencing everybody, whether her plants were getting watered. She’d ramble and giggle and remove any worry we have just by being her awkward, adorable self.
“You know, my father and I don’t really get along,” Theresa finally says.
“Really?”
“It’s not like we hate each other. We just don’t really know each other.”
“Oh.” I don’t know where she’s going with this, but I let her talk. I imagine it has to be boring to sit alone in a hospital room every night. Her mind has probably gone to a million places and back.
“When I think back to when Emma and I were younger, he’s never in any of my memories. It was my mom who took us to the park. It was me and Emma riding our bikes to the corner and back. My dad? I remember him coming home, eating dinner in silence, and disappearing to his bedroom. He’d be snoring within ten minutes.”
“That’s a shame.” Both of my parents were always around. They both worked a lot, but they were there for me and Cale as much as they could be. Up until a few weeks ago, I really had it made. It’s a shame I didn’t realize it then.
“Yeah. My point is, even to this day, my father thinks he took such good care of us. And he did, to an extent. We never went hungry, we always had a place to call home, and we could indulge every once in a while on vacations or whatever else. He spent his life providing for us, but in the end, all we ever needed was him.”
Ah, there it is. And with it, more guilt. But this is different. I’m protecting Emma after a very real attack. She’ll never have to worry again once these people are taken care of.
Still, I wonder if part of the reason our relationship will be different after she wakes up isn’t because of her injuries, but because of how guilty I feel.
“Did you hear anything at work about the drug bust?” Cale is waiting for me when I get home. He texted me several times today, but I just told him I’d talk to him later. Guess now is later.
I take a seat at the counter and rap my knuckles on the granite.
“What’s wrong?” He leans down on the opposite side, trying to meet my eyes.
“Well, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”
“Ethan, just tell me.”
“I got fired.”
“What?” he shouts and stands up straight. “How could you get fired? Is this because you took that week off without telling anyone?”
“I was making up the work, but I couldn’t get to it all—”
“So what do we do now?” He crosses his arms. “You expect me to pay for everything on my own? I’m not a fucking charity.”
I fight to keep my composure. I knew he would have this reaction. If we both start yelling, it’s only going to push us further apart.
“I have another offer,” I say.
“So why haven’t you taken it?”
I sigh. “It’s not that simple.”
“What isn’t? Money? That’s not simple? You don’t have a job, Ethan. Get one, or you’re going to have to move back with Mom and Dad.” He turns to his bedroom.
“I think the guy who offered it to me is in the mob.”
Stopping in his tracks, he turns around and asks, “Why’s that?”
“It’s just a hunch. But look, you’re going to get promoted soon and you’ll be making a lot more money.”
He returns to the kitchen and takes the seat next to me at the counter. “I don’t know that I am. The Works story is drying up, and I need something if I’m going to get that anchor position.”
“Myra still won’t help you, huh?”
“No. We really got into it a few days ago, right after that weirdo in the suit broke into city hall. She doesn’t want to mix her professional and personal lives. She won’t admit it, but I think that guy in the mask scared her. I would be! She thinks I’ll be in trouble by knowing her.”
I can relate to that.
“I feel like she just doesn’t want to be exposed as the source,” he continues.
“Can you blame her?”
“But if she tells me, she knows I wouldn’t do that!”
“Cale, think of it from her side. Being a city councilman’s assistant is not her dream job. Anyone who talks to her for more than five minutes knows she has bigger plans. If she starts disregarding her principles with you, who’s to say she won’t do the same with someone else? And just like that she becomes another politician like everyone else.”
He rolls his eyes. With the Works story, I’m sure he’s run into a lot of the political runaround.
“Besides,” I add, “you might not be the one to expose her, but someone will likely discover your connection. Your job as a reporter might not be compromised, but hers as a public figure probably will be.”
Sighing, he says, “I guess so.” We’re quiet a moment and then he asks, “So you’re unemployed now?”
I stare at the countertop. “Yeah.”
“And that job offer is no good?”
Shrugging, I say, “I don’t know. I still have to think about it some.”
He rubs his face and then puts his arm around me. “I guess we’ll just have to work it out.”
I smile. “Thanks, Cale.”
“All right,” he says as he gets to his feet, “I’ve gotta go find something that’ll save me from getting fired.”
“Why don’t you give Tucker a call? He was quoted in the Tribune.”
“He was?”
“Don’t you read the news? It was front page.”
He snatches up his phone from the counter and looks through his contacts. “I’ll give him a call.”
“Why don’t you go down to the station yourself?” I suggest. “He’s your friend. Take him out to dinner or something.”
“I don’t want to date him, I just want the scoop. Stuff I can put on camera.”
“Then take your camera!”
“You’re right.” He checks his watch. “He should still be there, right?”
“Unless they had a bigger break in the drug case, I think he’s going to be working longer hours.”
“Great, I’ll see you later. Thanks, Ethan!”
It’s good to know my brother still has my back, even if he is disappointed I lost my job. But then, Cale has always been there for me.
There’s a knock at the door and then I hear, “Ethan, it’s Dean.”
Scooting off the barstool, I let him in.
“You know, maybe I should just find a new place to live,” he says. “I feel like this arrangement is inconvenient for everyone. I could hire a moving company to clear out my old place so I’m not spotted.”
“Don’t worry about that just yet. You’re fine.” I don’t want him to go. On my walk back from the hospital I realized that Dean’s been a tremendous help since everything happened with Emma. Not only with distracting me from the consuming sadness—which was nearly unbearable yesterday—but also with helping to give me purpose. Something to fight for. I don’t want that to end.
Besides, if Dean really is being watched, it’d be safer for him if he wasn’t alone. At least, it would make me feel better. After what happened to Emma, I don’t want to lose anyone else in my life.
“Are you sure?” He eyes me warily.
“Yes, don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” he says as he exhales. “We need to move quickly with Bello.”
“What do you mean?”
“His drug business is in a state of shock. The boss will want him to lay low, but Bello is too headstrong. He’ll want to regroup, send some men after your alter ego and rub him out.”
“Yeah, but how does that help us?”
Dean rocks his head back and forth. “He’s probably meeting with the men under his jurisdiction.”
“Okay, so let’s say he is meeting with all of his subordinates. The question is, where and when?”
“Soon. Bello works a regular job. He needs to keep up appearances. But he’ll want to meet quickly. It’ll likely be tonight.”
I’m surprised and my palms begin to sweat. Going after random people who don’t expect me is one thing, but it’s another to actively seek out a meeting designed to plan your murder. Not to mention, I’m tired. I don’t want to run from gunshots tonight. But that’s my role now that I have this ability. The news that the man didn’t die last night is empowering.
“Okay, but where?” I ask.
“A small family establishment in Little Italy. That’s my guess, anyway. It was Bello’s favorite place when I knew him, and he’s a creature of habit.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course.”
He flashes a quick smile before saying, “Bello’s going to be skittish, so he’s going to have lots of men protecting him.”
“Do you think I can take them?”
“Definitely not.”
Just like that, my empowerment is crushed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“That’s why I’ll be there to back you up.”
“What if they recognize you?”
“They can’t talk if they’re dead,” he says with a smirk that terrifies me.
“I don’t want people to die.”
The smirk fades. “That came out wrong. It’s just—these men are not good people. I’m not going there for a bloodbath, but I’m not going to hesitate to shoot one of these fuckers down if it comes to it.”
I nod wordlessly.
“See if Alex and Wes are willing to help out,” he says, shifting gears. “We could use an extra set of eyes watching security cameras.”
“I really don’t think they’ll help.” Wes isn’t really my concern, but Alex made her views clear yesterday. Besides, I’m not even sure the grid reaches up to that point in the city yet. The solar roadways are still being installed down the major corridors.
“She’s just worried about you, man,” he says, reading my thoughts. “That’s all.”
“I guess you’re right. I’ll give her a call.” I escape in my room and hit send on her contact information on my phone. It rings twice before she picks up.
“Ethan, hi.” She sounds odd. Hesitant almost.
“Hey, I know you made things clear yester—”
“Forget about that.” She cuts me off. “Do you have a minute to come down here and talk? It’s…uh…kinda urgent.”
“Uh, sure. I might have a little time.”
“Cool, I’ll see you soon.”
When the line goes dead, I look at my phone for a moment before returning to the main room with Dean.
“She wants me to go down and talk to her.”
“Why?” he asks.
“I don’t know. But she said it was urgent.”
“Okay, but we’ve gotta move quickly. Bello’s likely called a dinner meeting, so we don’t have much time. Meet back here in an hour and we’ll go from here. Sound good?”
I nod, still nervous. “Yup.”
He grabs my arm. “Hey. We’ve got this.”
Surprisingly, the lights are already off at the clinic. Sometimes Alex closes down early if there’s no one there, but there usually is.
The door’s unlocked and I let myself in the back. The sound of voices leads me to the reception desk. Alex is leaning against it with her arms folded, talking to Tucker.
“Ethan!” Alex calls when she spots me. “I’m glad you could come so fast.”
Tossing a thumb over my shoulder, I say, “I don’t have a lot of time. I was actually hoping to talk to you in private for a few minutes.”
Tucker turns to me and offers a tight smile. “Ethan.”
Alex looks between us. “Um, there’s actually something you should know first.”
My heart races again. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep them still, but I can tell it’s not hiding anything. What more can be thrown my way?
Alex must’ve found something in my blood work. Something that didn’t manifest right away. Or maybe something happened with Emma. Or Cale. Or Myra. Suddenly I feel like I need to sit down, but I lock my knees and try to act casual.
Tucker clears his throat. “Dr. Fletcher tells me you’ve been hanging out with your physical therapist.”
Well, that’s a twist. My eyes narrow and I look between the two of them. “What’s going on?”
Alex rubs her hands together. “Dean knows a lot about . . . the Martellis.”
Oh dear God, Tucker knows my secret. How could Alex betray me like this? I trusted her. I didn’t think our blowout yesterday was enough for her to go right to the police.
“I knew you were . . . curious about them and were asking around.” She’s choosing her words carefully. “It seemed like once you met Dean, you started acting differently. I got suspicious.”
“Alex, what did you do?” My voice is low, almost a growl.
She chokes up and Tucker continues for her.
“She was worried about you, Ethan. After the two attacks against you, both related to that family, she wanted to make sure you weren’t making things worse for yourself.”
I run my hands through my hair, unable to keep them still. I want to leave, to run, but there’s nowhere to go. Mostly, I want to make sure that Dean’s okay. That there isn’t a police crew waiting for him to turn the wrong corner and arrest him.
But what would he be arrested for? I’m afraid to admit it to myself.
“Someone needs to tell me what’s going on,” I finally say.
Tucker hands me a photocopy of a police report from several years ago. A younger Dean stares at the camera with a mugshot. “Dino Martelli” is listed right above his charge: grand larceny.
“No, this has to be wrong. His last name is Adams.”
Tucker looks at me with sympathetic eyes. “Adams was his mother’s maiden name. But Dean’s father is Carlo Martelli.”