Page 63 of The Beast Who Broke Me
“No.”
“Something happen?”
“Yes.” She points one finger down. Not at the floor. Lower than that. “I’m not doing it,” she says. “Not again.”
“Not doing what?”
“I will not be part of your cruelties to that boy.”
A hard pulse goes through me. “He’s not a boy.”
She gives me a look that would curdle milk. “Don’t play with words. Not with me.”
“I’m not playing.”
“No? Then you are a fool.Andyou are a coward.”
I take one step closer, but Rosa doesn’t flinch. “Be careful,” I tell her quietly.
“I have been careful for too long. Much too long! I did this once already for you; I told myself maybe I did not understand. Maybe you had reasons. Maybe you would come to your senses—and then you did. But I won’t do it again. And I will not have a man starve to death in this house.”
“Nobody’s starving him. He just won’t eat. That’shisproblem.” I’ve been watching the cameras on my phone since I left him down there. He showered the first day when I turned the shower on, stumbling in the dark to the cubicle. But he didn’t on the second, or today, and now he’s pulling a hunger strike.
I was planning to go down tomorrow and scare him into taking care of himself.
“It isyourproblem,” Rosa shouts. Actually shouts. “Because if you don’t get him out of there right now, I am leaving this house!”
I laugh, dark and ugly. “You know why he’s down there? Because he threatenedyou. He threatened Vito and Sammy and you. He’s not the sweet kid you think he is, Rosa.”
She’s gone pale hearing that, but she still won’t budge. “Whatever he has done, you are doing worse. Get him out of there, or I go.”
She’s bluffing. I know she’s bluffing. “Okay,” I say, folding my arms over my chest and leaning against the counter. “Go on, then.”
She turns and calls, “Vito!” She keeps my gaze as we wait, Vito’s quick footsteps coming closer from the garage. “I need a ride to the bus station. I’m going to my sister’s place upstate.”
Vito frowns, puzzled. And then she pulls out a large suitcase from behind the counter. He looks at me, and the frown deepens.
This house without Rosa in it would just be walls. Vito and Sammy won’t stick around, that’s for sure. And they’re all in danger. Maybe not from the Morellis, but from whoever’s been gunning for the Clemenza…
That killer is still out there. And just like his target, I’m pretty sure he won’t hesitate to use my household as collateral.
“Fine,” I say stiffly. “I’ll get him out.”
Rosa’s shoulders drop by an inch. That’s the only sign of relief she gives.
“But don’t start thinking you give me orders,” I growl.
“Get out of my kitchen,” she snaps at me. “I have work to do.”
She’s already putting the apron back on.
The elevator ride down feels longer than usual.
I stand in the brass-and-mirror box with my hands at my sides and watch my own reflection descend with me.
Rosa called me a coward. She was more right than she knew.
The doors open to the basement. It’s always a surprise to see just how dark it is down here. A yawning void.
