Page 95 of Because I Need You
“How many people died?”
“Three.”
“Three?” That was a lot less than what it looked like.
“A lot injured,” he said, as if reading my mind. He shook his head. “I don’t know what this is about or what your involvement is, but even you have to see how fucked up it is.”
“I do see it.” I slowed down as we got to her grandmother’s door. “Were all of these rooms searched?”
“Every single one.”
I pushed the door open, eyes instantly taking in the food on the floor, the bag Isabel had brought it in. The rolling table was knocked over as well as two chairs. The bed was empty, but there was blood everywhere.
“Who was taken from here?” I asked, hating the way my voice came out so quiet, so shaky.
“An old lady.”
“And no one else?”
“No one else.”
I put my head in my hands for a moment, just breathing. Whoever did this was targeting Isabel. If they were trying to get to me, why hadn’t they called for ransom or sent a picture letting me know they had her?
“We need to get out of here,” Marchetti said. “It’s only a matter of time before someone starts breathing down my neck about you being in here.”
I gave a sharp nod and straightened, heading toward the door.
“Any idea who did this?” He huffed. “Not that I’d expect you to tell me.”
“If I knew, I’d tell you.” I looked him dead in the eye. “I need to find my wife.”
“Why do you keep saying that? When the fuck did you get married?”
“It’s a long story.” I jabbed the button for the elevator. “Her name is Isabel Bonetti. She’s about five-five, long brown hair, caramel skin, light brown eyes. I don’t know who took her or what they want, but whatever it is, I’ll give it to them.”
He looked at me for a long moment before nodding in understanding. Normally, I wouldn’t really consult with him. His brother, sure, but not him. This wasn’t the time to play cops and robbers, though. Half the force was on our side, anyway, and the longer Isabel was gone, the worse the outcome would be.
40
GIO
When I found her and ensured she was safe, I would let her go. I’d decided that on the ride from the nursing home. It wasn’t because it was the honorable thing to do, because fuck that, but I couldn’t go through this again. If it weren’t for me, she’d still be in New York, pouring drinks to old men in her little rum bar while she waited for the school year to start. If it weren’t for me, she’d be with William Hamilton, and even though I fucking hated the man, I couldn’t deny that he’d give her a good life. A safe life. How many people had warned me against going for her? How many had reminded me that this wasn’t where she belonged? Too many, and I’d ignored each and every one of them, because I was selfish and I wanted her anyway. Nico pulled up to the warehouse and parked across the street. I didn’t even bother looking over my shoulder as I stomped to the door, punching in the code before stepping in and kicking the door shut. I felt like I hadn’t been able to take a breath since I spoke to Isabel this afternoon. I kept replaying that conversation over and over and wishing like hell I’d gone over there when my gut told me to go. After a moment, I walked in.
The warehouse had been converted into a hang out. It had a full bar, furniture, a pool table, and a round table that Dean had brought in for us to sit in and discuss shit like he was King fucking Arthur. He was already sitting there with Loren, Dominic, and Rocco. I frowned at the sight of him here.
“The fuck are you doing here?” I asked, nodding at him.
“I invited him,” Dean said.
I took my usual seat. I didn’t care one way or another if Rocco was here. In fact, he belonged here just as much as the rest of us. I just wasn’t used to him being around. Ever since he moved here, he’d been working with Dean in the gambling rings, making sure people were paying what they were supposed to and stiff-arming them when they weren’t. He was Dominic’s age, just a baby when the old Patriarca had come for his family back in Rhode Island and stole his mother’s last breath. It was the reason his brother, Michael, became a detective. It was the reason Rocco became a gangster. We all had our own ways to deal with pain. Some of us went straight and arrow, while others took a darker path. We do what we have to in order to survive.
“Every second that goes by is another second that Isabel’s life is in danger,” I said. “There hasn’t been a ransom call, a picture, nothing. Who the fuck has her?”
