Sweetest Sorrow (Forbidden Book 2) (20 page)

Her lips were soft, the kiss gentle. It was sweet.
So fucking sweet
. He savored every second, making no move to deepen it. He'd let her have her way with him, let her do whatever she wanted, however she wanted it. All he knew was that being around her breathed life into him, and if he had his way, he'd kiss her
forever
.

But forever came way too soon for him, as ringing shattered the silence of the room. Dante's phone vibrated his pocket, shaking them out of the moment. Gabriella pulled away, and Dante groaned, his hands dropping from her hips.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the phone, glancing at the screen.
Bert
.

"What?" he answered.

"Yo, this son of a bitch
hit
me!"

Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. "So hit him back."

"I did!"

Noise erupted in the background.

Cursing. Glass breaking. People shouting.

Umberto's phone dropped, hitting something, the bang echoing through the line. He yelled, his words jumbled, but Dante got the message.

The fucker started a bar fight.

Not the first time
.

Hanging up, Dante slipped his phone back into his pocket. He got to his feet, his hands framing Gabriella's face. He kissed her then, hard and passionate, but he didn't linger. Pulling away, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Probably to get punched again."

"Are you coming back?"

"I probably shouldn't."

"So I can expect you, then?"

He paused at the door, looking back at her. Her expression was earnest, none of the amusement he thought he'd see. It was an honest question. She wanted to know if he'd come back.

God, how he wished he could answer that the way he wanted. How he wished he could say fuck it, that he wasn't going
anywhere
. Part of him wanted to, but there was still that side of him trained to follow orders and obey commands.

"Make sure you lock your door after I'm gone," he said. "Keep yourself safe, Gabriella."

He looked away when disappointment clouded her face. Unlocking the door, he walked out, closing it behind him. He stood there in the dingy hallway until the locks jingled, the deadbolt turning. Glancing back, his gaze caught the peephole.

He could practically
feel
her eyes on him through it.

"
Y
ou can do this
. You can do this.
You can friggin do this
."

Gabriella chanted the words under her breath as she hurried across the street in the crosswalk, the bright orange hand flashing at her, telling her to halt. She had no time for that, though. Not if she was going to do what she had planned.

Five-thirty in the evening. Rush hour traffic clogged the streets. She had an hour and a half before her shift was scheduled to start at the hospital. Three days in a row working twelve-hour stretches overnight with Cindy and the Grinch around.
Oh, joy
! Patients in the ICU required undivided attention, and Gabriella couldn't do that until she got something off of her chest. It was heavy, a weighted secret pressing down on her. She needed to let it out. She needed to tell somebody.

She wasn't religious, but desperation had her thinking about seeking out a priest.

One of those couldn't help her, though. A couple
Hail Mary's
wouldn't solve this problem.

Maybe what she needed was
sanctuary,
protection from whatever trouble this secret would invite into her world.

Gabriella approached the small cafe near the end of the block, her gaze scanning along the lettering on the fresh glass:
Casato
. The explosion had blown the windows out of the place, but it managed to escape most other damage, back up and running within a week.

The door was propped wide open, the cafe busy, as it always seemed to be at the time. Gabriella walked by it on her way to catch the subway, but it was the first time she'd gone inside, the first time she visited. The Amaros owned the café, so Gabriella knew the crowd that frequented it, but she tried to separate her private life from that part of the family.

Tables covered most of the space. Gabriella scanned them, looking for someone. Her stomach churned as her eyes fixed on a small two-seater table in the back corner, Gavin Amaro sitting alone, scribbling something in a notebook.

"You can do this," she whispered before stalking over to the table and sliding into the chair across from him.

Gavin looked up at her, his pen pressed to the paper.

"Hey, uh... sorry to interrupt whatever you're doing," she said, waving at his notebook.
Math equations
. "Your homework or whatever, but I need to talk to someone. I need to tell someone what I know. Or what I
think
I know. I've got to get it off my chest, and I'm not sure who to tell. And I mean, maybe I shouldn't tell anyone. Maybe I shouldn't tell
you
. But I can't keep it to myself anymore, and I figure out of everyone I know, you're the least likely to blow a friggin gasket over it."

Gavin cocked his head to the side. "Gabby?"

"Yeah."

He shook his head as he closed his notebook and waved the pen her direction. "You look different not dressed like Morticia Addams. What are you doing here?"

"Did you not hear what I said?"

"Not really," he admitted. "I was busy trying to figure out why some lady wearing scrubs was suddenly sitting across from me."

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't want to interrupt, but I need to talk to someone."

"That someone being
me
?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"Okay," he said, drawing out the word. "I have to warn you, though. I'm terrible at relationship advice, so if this is about a guy…"

"It's not." She paused.
Crap
. Was that a lie? "Well, it kind of is, but it's more than that. I don't need relationship advice. I need
help
."

"I'm better at helping." He leaned closer to the table. "What do you need?"

"I need to tell you something, but before I do, I need you to promise you won't go all crazy, or that you won't think
I'm
crazy."

"I'll do my best."

Gabriella glanced around the cafe, surveying the people near them, making sure nobody was around to overhear. She didn't recognize any faces, but it wasn't as if she would. She didn't know many people who belonged to
those
families.

"I, uh..." She turned back to Gavin. "I don't think they're dead."

She said nothing else. That, alone, had been hard enough.

He stared at her, expression blank. "Who?"

"Matty," she whispered, "and Genna."

She expected him to laugh or scoff or tell her to get the heck out of his face, like she was some conspiracy theorist without an ounce of common sense. But he continued to just sit there, nothing showing on his face. Not shock. Not awe. Not confusion.
Nothing
.

"You don't think they're dead," he said after a moment.

"No," she said. "I don't think they were in the car."

More silence.

"I live across the street," she continued, figuring she ought to explain. "I was home that night. My mom called to check on me, to tell me about Enzo's funeral. I felt bad, because I hadn't gone, and when I looked out my window, I noticed a car.
Matty's
car. I recognized it parked down the street. I thought about going outside to see him, to tell him I was sorry about his brother, but before I could…"

The car had exploded.

She could still see it when she closed her eyes.

It was as if it happened in slow motion.

The lights on it flashed, as if someone had unlocked it, seconds before it came to life, seconds before it
exploded
. The detonation had shaken her building, the fire escape rattling as the floor beneath her feet trembled.

It felt like an earthquake.

Windows shattered. Pictures fell from the walls. The fireball lit up the neighborhood.

Through it all, she stared at the car in horror.

Not a single soul had approached.

"I didn't see anyone," she said quietly. "I would've seen them."

Gavin shifted in his seat as his gaze turned to the table between them. He rubbed his mouth, as if deep in thought, like maybe he was considering what she had to say.

Her heart raced as she awaited his reaction.

After a moment, he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Interesting. And you haven't told anybody else, right?"

"Right."

"Good," he said. "
Don't
."

"Because I'm crazy?"

"Because you're right."

Whoa
.

She blinked rapidly. "I'm
right
?"

Her words were louder than she meant, coming out as a screech, drawing attention from people around them. Gavin frowned, waiting until everyone looked away before nodding in confirmation.

"You
knew
? Why haven't you said anything?"

"Because I'm not going to," he said, "and you aren't, either."

"But—"

"Listen to me, Gabriella," he said, his voice dropping low, a hard edge to it. "You know what'll happen when people find out those two are alive? They'll
die
. That car blowing up wasn't an accident. It was a hit on Matty's life. They planned to leave before it happened and were committed to spending the rest of their lives on the run. This made it so they had a chance to get away without looking over their shoulders."

"You helped them," she whispered, stunned.

He didn't just
know
—he helped make it so.

"Of course I did," he said.

Gabriella couldn't believe it. Well, okay, she
could
. She suspected it, she thought it, but she figured she must be wrong. She wasn't, though.

"Dante," she whispered, her chest aching. She'd tried to tell him what she suspected a few times, but she'd been afraid to give him false hope.

"Galante?" Gavin asked. "What about him?"

"He'll want to know."

"Doesn't matter. He can't find out."

"But—" Gavin moved, like he was about to cover her mouth to silence her, but Gabriella held her hands up to block him. "It's not fair. It's not
right
. He's grieving. He deserves to know."

Gavin stared at her.
Hard
. "Were you and Enzo Barsanti close?"

She hesitated at the topic switch. "Not really. Only saw him a few times growing up. He started working for his father, and well…"

Unless you were a
Barsanti
, you meant nothing.

"But you and Matty were, right?"

"Close-
ish.
I saw him a lot more."

"So you care about what happens to him?"

"Of course."

"If Dante finds out they're alive, I'm telling you right now, Matty will end up just like Enzo."

She shook her head adamantly. "You're wrong."

"Look, I like the guy. He's not vindictive, he's not cold-blooded, but he's not innocent, either. When it comes to the people he loves, the guy has no limits. He did it before, and he'll probably do it again."

"Do what?"

"Kill."

Coldness ran through Gabriella. "Who did he
kill
?"

Gavin shifted in his seat, looking away from her. He wasn't going to answer that question. She'd asked too much. She knew how those things went.
Don't ask; don't tell
.

"Why does it matter to you, anyway? Have you ever met him?"

Gabriella didn't know what to say, so she just shrugged.

Gavin's eyes narrowed. "How do you know him?"

"Who says I know him?"

"Your face," he said. "Your face says you know him."

She scoffed.

Wrong response.

"Jesus Christ, Gabriella, don't…" Gavin ran his hands down his face, growling. "Don't tell me you know him
personally
."

"Is there another way to know a person?"

"Intimately," he elaborated. "Tell me you haven't seen the guy naked. Tell me you haven't touched his dick."

A smile cracked her face at that. She wiped it away as quickly as it happened, but Gavin caught it.

"You have got to be kidding me." Gavin threw his pen down on the table. "What is it with people in this family planting shit in gardens that don't belong to them?"

Her brow furrowed.
What
? "We're not
planting
—"

"Does he know who you are? Has he figured out you're connected?"

"No, but I don't think it matters."

"You don't think so, Gabby? You're just a step removed from being a Barsanti."

She scoffed.
Again
. "I am not."

"You went to the man's birthday party."

"I didn't
want
to."

"Proves my point. The only people they force to do that shit are family. Doesn't matter how you feel about him. Matty was never a fan, either, but that didn't stop Dante from going after him."

Gabriella didn't know what to say about that. The Dante he spoke of sounded a lot like the one from the scary stories, the tales of the big bad wolf out to devour his enemies. But that wasn't the Dante she'd come to know. He was like a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. He'd bare his teeth and he might even bite, but with enough patience, with enough understanding, he'd warm up to you in no time.

"He just could really use some good news," Gabriella said. "He's drowning in so much
bad
. He gets in fights and goes places he shouldn't go… I heard he went to some place that Bobby owns, some bar in Soho, knowing he didn't belong there."

"Jesus Christ," Gavin grumbled.

"And I just don't see what the point of keeping it from him is when he'll find out eventually," Gabriella said. "They
all
will. Sooner or later, they'll put the pieces together. I'm surprised they already haven't, if there's no trace of them in the car."

"That's not my problem. They can riddle it out, but I won't be responsible for the truth getting out. I don't want their blood on my hands, and you won't want it, either.
Trust me
."

Gabriella's gaze headed to the window across the room, at the city outside. Instead of relieving the pressure on her chest, instead of purging her secret, she gained a bigger one.

How many lies would she have to tell to keep this one buried?

"Gabby!"

Gabriella glanced up at the sound of her name, seeing Johnny Amaro approaching. "Uncle Johnny."

"What brings you to my little part of the world?" Johnny asked.

"Just thought I'd say hey to Gavin."

"It's nice seeing you cousins hanging out," Johnny said, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. "Family, you know, it ain't about a name. I always said it didn't matter what they called you… what mattered was what kind of person you chose to be."

Gavin laughed. "Too bad not everyone buys into your hippie-dippie shit, Pops."

"Yeah, too bad," he agreed. "They'd stop trying to blow up their kids if they did."

Johnny squeezed her shoulder again before walking away.

Gabriella glanced at her watch before clearing her throat. "I should go. I have to catch the subway."

"I'll walk you," Gavin said, grabbing his notebook.

Neither spoke as they walked down the block. Gabriella thanked him and headed down the steps, into the underground station, when Gavin called out to her. "Hey, about Dante…"

She turned, looking at him.

"Just be careful," he said. "He's been broken, and I'm not saying he can't be fixed, but just don't break off some of your pieces trying to put his back together, because then you'll both just be broke."

She shook her head. "You were right, Gavin."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you're
terrible
at giving advice."