Vendetta: A DeLuca Family Novel (The DeLuca Family Book 2) (15 page)

“
E
nzo
!” I heard my name being called through the ringing in my ears. I tried to open my eyes but something wet and sticky covered my right eye, making it nearly impossible to see out of. I tried to lift my arm to wipe away whatever was covering my face, but it didn't move. Instead, it caused a shooting pain to ripple through my shoulder. I groaned loudly at the sensation.

“Can you hear me?” Mia’s voice called out.

I blinked my good eye open to see her crouched above me, her white dress streaked with blood and smudges of dirt. I could still feel the heat from the explosion. Letting myself look around, I noticed that I'd been dragged several yards away from my car that was now just a ball of flames.

“Frankie,” I croaked out, finally coming to my senses. My rattled brain was making the connections again.

She’s gone. I have to get to her.

I tried to sit up, but I was pushed back down again.

“Just relax,” Carlo said.

“I can't,” I ground out, pushing myself up again; this time not letting him push me back down. “I have to get Frankie.”

Antonio stepped forward offering a hand to help me up. He steadied me on my feet and took my head in his hands looking from one eye to the other.

“Probably has a concussion and that nasty cut above his eye needs to be stitched, but he should be fine,” he said, taking a step back.

I didn't know what gave him the authority to rule on my well-being, but I was grateful for the confidence nonetheless. Glancing past the small group huddled around me, I saw the entire wedding party crowded together a few yards off, gawking at the destruction the car bomb had caused.

I’d been through my fair share of IED explosions when I was overseas, so I knew immediately what had happened. You didn’t quickly forget the feeling of being blown up. No, that stayed with you long after you came home.

“Is everybody okay?” I asked. I wasn’t sure how loud my voice was since my ears were still ringing.

“Yeah, we were a few paces behind you. You got the worst of it,” said Angelo who’d come up to stand on my other side.

“He needs to see a doctor,” Mia insisted, pushing in between the two of them to take a look at me herself.

“I'm fine,” I said. The pain was excruciating but I'd had worse—I’d survive. “My shoulder is dislocated. You’re going to have to pop it back into place,” I instructed Antonio.

He gave me a stern look, but nodded. “Angelo, hold him still,” he ordered before grasping my forearm. With his hand at my elbow he quickly shoved my shoulder back into place.

The relief was instant. I groaned again, moving my arm and testing its range of motion. Satisfied, I reached up and wiped at my face. My hand came away covered in my own blood. I didn't have time to worry about my injuries though. I had to find Frankie.

“Give me your keys,” I ordered Antonio, holding out my hand.

“No way you’re driving,” he said, shaking his head.

“You don't understand,” I ground out. “I have to get to her.”

Antonio started to protest, but Carlo stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “He’s going to go no matter what you say,” he said. “You two go with him; I'll stay here and clean up this mess.” I nodded gratefully at him and followed Antonio and Angelo to the car.

Climbing into the backseat, my movements were wooden and I panted with the effort. I didn't know how big the wound on my head was, but from the blood flowing down my face my guess was at least seven stitches. I tried to wipe it clean with the sleeve of my white button-down, my suit jacket long since forgotten at the party, but it made little difference.

“Here,” Angelo said, reaching behind his seat to pull out a duffel bag. He opened it and threw a T-shirt at me. “It might smell, but it'll do the trick. Put some pressure on it, it’ll help slow the bleeding.

“Thanks,” I grumbled, balling it up and bringing it to my head. I winced slightly at the contact, but gnashed my teeth together and pressed the material more firmly against the wound.

“Where is it we’re going?” Antonio asked from the driver’s seat, speeding down the long driveway towards the highway.

“Just outside the city, about twenty minutes from here. I'll tell you where to go,” I called out.

“So how are we going to play this?” he asked as we pulled onto the highway. He accelerated quickly, causing my body to be pushed into the seat. We had been going close to a hundred miles an hour down the darkened road, but he maneuvered around the twists and turns easily, slowing down only when he had to. I was grateful for it.

“I don't even know if she's there,” I said while praying she was. We had no other clues as to where he might take her, but it was our only shot.

“How’s the house set up?” Angelo asked.

“It’s small, two bedrooms. Only two entrances, front and back,” I said, setting the blood soaked T-shirt down on the seat next to me so I could check my gun.

“Any idea where in the house he’d be holding her?” Angelo asked.

“Not a clue, but like I said, the place is small. Shouldn’t be hard to find her if she’s there,” I said, slamming the magazine back into my gun and returning it to my shoulder holster.

“And if she is, what's the plan?” Antonio insisted.

“I don't have a plan,” I growled irritably. “I just have to get to her.”

“We can't just go busting in doors. If she’s not there you’re going to have to explain to her mom why you broke into her fucking house in the middle of the night,” he reasoned.

“I guess we'll find out when we get there. How long has she been gone now?” I asked, suddenly realizing I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious.

Antonio glanced the clock. “A little over an hour; we still have plenty of time.”

I hope you’re right.

I directed him which exit to take off the highway and navigated him through the streets until we pulled up just outside of Claudia’s house.

“That's the car,” I said, remembering the dark sedan Eddie had thrown Frankie into from the surveillance video.

“Plate’s match,” Angelo said simply.

“I'll go in through the front, you two go around the back. We don't know what we're walking into,” I warned, as we piled out of the car.

They headed towards the backyard, but I didn’t wait for them to get into position before I headed towards the front, keeping my footsteps light so as not to alert whoever was inside to my presence. I tried the knob, but it was locked. I didn’t have the tools or the time to waste trying to pick the lock.

Turning around with my back towards the door, I braced myself on the frame and kicked backwards. The old wooden frame gave way easily with a satisfying crunch. Aware that the noise would have given me away, I quickly stepped across threshold, my gun held high. The living room was dark. I moved to the right, the kitchen was clear.

Footsteps thundered behind me and I whirled around to face Angelo and Antonio coming through the front door.

“I thought you were going to the back?” I asked.

“That was before you decided to break down the door,” Antonio hissed.

I ignored the jab. “Angelo, you take the living room. Antonio, the entrance to the basement is in the kitchen; check it out. I’ll take the bedrooms. Call out if either of you find anything. Claudia’s around here somewhere too,” I instructed and we dispersed.

I crept quietly down the hallway noticing a light coming from Frankie's room. The door was cracked open, and I peered inside. What I saw made my heart stutter to a stop and rage crawl through my body.

Frankie was tied to the bed, bloody and half-naked. Eddie was standing next to her, fastening his pants.

I saw red, and without thinking, I launched myself through the door.

A
loud bang
sounded at the front of the house and Eddie froze, still poised above me, dick in hand. Silence descended throughout the house once again. Neither of us moved, both straining to hear anything.

The sound of voices launched Eddie into action. He scrambled off the bed and started pulling up his pants. He’d just gotten them buttoned when a body came hurling through the bedroom door tackling him to the ground. I strained against my restraints, trying to see what was going on. I caught a glimpse of a face and my heart soared, then plummeted again.

Enzo. 

He was there but he was struggling for the upper hand and he was already bloody. I screamed as Eddie’s fist slammed into Enzo’s face with a sickening crunch. Someone else rushed through the door—Angelo.

“Get Frankie,” Enzo called out, delivering a powerful blow to Eddie’s kidney.

Angelo rushed over to the bed, producing a knife from his belt and started sawing at the ropes that secured my ankles. I almost cried in relief when he released my right foot and moved on to my left. Eddie and Enzo were still struggling on the floor; neither of them seemed willing to give up. Finally, Angelo had both my wrists free and I pulled all my limbs in towards my body, trying to cover my exposed and battered body.

Enzo hurled Eddie into the dresser, momentarily knocking him off balance. He turned to Angelo. “Get her out of here!” he shouted.

I called out his name in warning, but it was too late. Eddie had taken the opportunity to jump him from behind, knocking them both down. Enzo’s head hit the side of the solid oak dresser as they fell.

Angelo reacted quickly, dragging me off the bed and positioning himself in front of me as he pulled his gun out. Without warning, Eddie popped up from the other side of the bed, a gun held in front of him. He squeezed off two shots, and Angelo’s body jolted with the impact of both.

“No!” I screamed as Angelo’s body crumpled in front of me. I threw myself at his prone body, trying to cover the two blooming spots of crimson staining his white shirt.

A hand suddenly fisted my hair, jerking my head back at an unnatural angle. He dragged me to my feet before I went flying. Pain blossomed in my cheek as my face collided with the wall. I could feel the pattern from the textured surface being impressed on my skin as he leaned his bodyweight into me.

I cried out, kicking and flailing my arms in an attempt to free myself from the unbearable pressure he was putting on my head. The more I struggled, the harder his grip became. His excited pants in my ear grew faster, and I realized with a sickening feeling that he was getting off on my struggle.

As suddenly as he’d snatched me up, he was gone. I sank to the floor, turning slightly as my legs gave out. Enzo had knocked the gun out of Eddie’s hand and they were facing off in the middle of the room. They had been evenly matched before, but Enzo was unsteady on his feet as they started circling each other. They collided once more, fists flying, and the sound of grunts filling the room.

Antonio came rushing through the door, taking in the scene. He was covered in blood and my heart sank at what that meant.

Mom.

But I couldn’t think about it. Angelo was lying on the floor bleeding out and Antonio was closer than I was.

“Angelo, he’s bleeding!” I yelled, pointing in the direction of where he was. I couldn’t see him since he was on the other side of the bed, but from the look on Antonio’s face as he dived to the floor, he did.

Enzo was struggling, taking more blows than he was blocking and throwing almost none. I had to help him. I scanned the room for anything I could use as a weapon. My eyes caught on a flash of metal on the floor a few feet away.

The knife.

It must’ve fallen off the bed during the scuffle. I crawled over to it, immediately feeling stronger as my hand curled around the hilt. Standing on shaky legs I moved around to where they were grappling on the floor. I dove towards them latching onto Eddie's back. He tried to buck me off but I held on tight.

Everything was happening so fast. Limbs were flying everywhere and I couldn't get a clear window. I caught an elbow to the face, almost losing my grip, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening. I have to end this.

Eddie's right hand came down hard, but Enzo blocked the punch, catching and holding his arm and I finally saw my opportunity. Without thinking, I jammed the blade into the side of Eddie’s neck, immediately feeling a surge of blood spill from the wound and cover my hand when I yanked it back. The warm, sticky liquid on my skin made my stomach roll, and I let the knife slip from my hand and drop to the floor. I turned, falling to my hands and knees, just before I vomited.

A
glint
of metal in the moonlight caught my eye just before I watched the knife in Frankie’s small hand sink into the side of Eddie’s throat. Warm blood sprayed across my face and by the time I was able to see again, both Frankie and the knife were gone.

Eddie was still looming above me, but he wasn’t fighting me anymore. His body was slack and my arms bore the brunt of his dead weight. His dark eyes stared unblinking into the darkness. His mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water as if he were struggling to take a breath as blood spilled from his neck at a rapid pace. I watched as, in the span of just a few seconds, all the life drained from his eyes and he slumped forward.

He’s gone.

I pushed his heavy body off me, and struggled to catch my breath. Trying not to let myself think too much about what had just happened, I ran an arm over my face, and cleared the blood from my eyes.

One thing at a time, Enzo.

Spotting Frankie a few feet away, I pushed up on unsteady legs and stumbled towards her. She was frantically wiping blood from her hands onto the dirty and tattered nightgown that still hung loosely around her body.

I sunk to my knees beside her and carefully pulled her to me. She collapsed into my chest, her whole body shaking with her sobs.

“It's over,” I said rocking her. “Shh, it's over now. I've got you.”

“I need an ambulance someone's been shot,” Antonio's voice interrupted as he spoke into his phone.

What the fuck is he talking about? We don’t call the cops—ever.

“Is he okay?” Frankie asked, pulling away from me.

What the hell is going on?

I got to my feet and shuffled over to the other side of the bed. He was bent over Angelo, his face pale and his body unnaturally still. I saw the blood and my heart sank.

“I don't know what the address is,” Antonio yelled into the phone frantically.

“Here,” I said taking it from him and rattling off the address to the 911 operator. “They're on their way,” I said after disconnecting the call.

“Is he going to be okay?” Frankie asked finally climbing to her feet.

“I don't know,” Antonio said, his voice breaking slightly. “He's lost a lot of blood. He still has a pulse, but it's just barely there.”

“Here, keep putting pressure on it,” I said squeezing in beside him just as Angelo’s body began to shake uncontrollably. “He's going into shock. Frankie, get me a blanket,” I called out.

She pulled the comforter off the bed and handed it to me. I wrapped it around him as best I could and helped Antonio keep pressure on the wounds. It felt like hours instead of minutes that we sat there watching as Angelo's blood pooled and praying frantically that he would be all right.

The paramedics came in and swept Angelo away, Antonio insisting on riding with them. He threw me the keys to the car and turned towards the second team of paramedics letting them know that there was another body in the basement. One of the EMTs stayed to treat Frankie and myself while the other headed downstairs.

Frankie didn’t say much; she just sat there staring into space as they treated her. I wanted to hold her, reassure her that everything would be okay. But how could I when she’d just found out that her mom was dead.

The police came in next, asking us questions. We gave them mostly true answers. We explained that Eddie had kidnapped her from the wedding and we’d come to find her. I told them about the fight and how Eddie had gotten stabbed. Frankie filled in the part about how Angelo was shot, since I’d been unconscious at the time.

Guilt racked my mind when I realized it was my gun Eddie had used to shoot Angelo. I’d dropped it in the scuffle; that was my fault. I’d let my emotions get the best of me when I launched myself at him. I hadn’t even thought about what happened to my gun.

They kept us at the house for hours going over everything multiple times before they let us go, telling us that they’d call if they needed more information. They allowed Frankie to grab some clothes from her mother’s room and change out of what Eddie had put her in.

As we walked through the living room on our way out of the house, I spotted Mallory talking to a man wearing the same crime scene unit jacket as she was. We made eye contact and I stopped short at the sight of her red rimmed eyes. She’d been crying. I didn’t acknowledge her further, no one needed to know that we were familiar, but I wondered just how close she and Angelo really were.

We climbed into the car and headed towards the hospital without a word. I hadn’t heard anything from Antonio yet and I was beginning to get worried. 

The waiting room was full of people from the wedding, and a man in scrubs was speaking quietly to Antonio in the corner.

“Oh my God,” Mia said, rushing over to us and enveloping Frankie in a hug. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“How is he?” Frankie asked, when Mia finally let go.

“We don't know yet,” Carlo said somberly. It was the most emotion I’d seen from him besides anger. Even though he didn’t show it often, Angelo was still his family and he was just as upset as we all were.

“He’s okay,” Antonio said, coming to stand in the small circle we’d made in the middle of the waiting room. “He made it through surgery. They were able to repair the damaged lung. He lost a lot of blood, but the bullets didn’t hit any major organs. The doctor said as long as he can hold on through the next twenty-four hours, he should make a full recovery.”

We all heaved a collective sigh of relief. The tension in my body seemed to evaporate and I let my head fall forward.

“Thank God,” I uttered. 

We spent another few hours in the waiting room until Antonio told us all to leave with the promise that he’d call if Angelo’s condition changed.

We climbed into the car and once the doors were closed a pregnant silence filled the space. The question that had been burning in my mind since I caught sight of the scene in her bedroom had risen to an inferno. I swallowed hard, willing the words to come, but my fear of her answer strangled the words in my throat.

Frankie turned her gaze to me across the empty cab, her tired eyes curious.

This is Frankie, my Franny. No matter what, she’s still mine. No matter what, we’ll get through it.

Steeling my nerves, I let the words stumble out, my voice sounding off to my own ears.

“Before I got to you, did he?” I asked, not able to finish.

“No,” she said, quickly understanding where my head was at. “No, he just watched me, while he…”

I had to swallow down the bile that rose in my throat when realization dawned on me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I willed the anger to seep from my body. She didn’t need my anger. I didn’t know exactly what she needed, but I knew it wasn’t anger.

“Where do you want to go?” I asked. After everything she’d been through, I wanted her to be wherever she was most comfortable,
that
I could do.

“Home,” she said, slumping against the seat.

“Home?” I asked, not sure which place she was referring to.

“Our home,” she clarified, reaching across the console to cover my hand with hers.

A
week
later we buried her mother. I held her hand as we watched the casket lowered into the ground, and my heart broke for her. With her mother gone, the house went to Frankie. She’d decided to put both her mother’s house and her loft up for sale, explaining that she couldn’t bear to keep either of them after everything that happened. I didn't blame her.

In the haze of chaos after Angelo was carted off to the hospital, we hadn’t been told anything other than her mother was dead. Only in the light of day, and after speaking with Antonio, were we able to piece together what had happened.

She’d been tied to a pipe in the unfinished basement where Antonio found her. There was no telling how long she’d been down there, her body beaten and sliced to within an inch of her life. Antonio had untied her and tried to help in some way, trying to stem the blood that was slowly leaking from her countless wounds, but she was too far gone. Instead, he explained how he’d held her as she passed, trying to provide a shred of comfort to her brutal end.

Frankie had broken down upon hearing what Eddie had done. I held her for hours, long after Antonio let himself out. I was her rock. I let her cry while my mind tried to make sense of the realization that the man I’d called a brother was responsible for her pain. I wasn’t sure how to process it.

I’d trusted him with Frankie. The thought had never crossed my mind that he would ever do anything to hurt her. The bitter taste of betrayal filled my mouth every time I thought of him, then the guilt would come. After everything I’d seen and done in my lifetime, how was it that I was so completely duped?

For days, I combed through my memories, searching for something that would’ve hinted that Eddie’s interest in Frankie had turned to obsession. I lamented over every detail, trying to see clues I may have overlooked, but there was nothing.

Given that Eddie had been able to get in and out of Frankie’s loft undetected, I wondered why he hadn’t tried to get to her when she was at my house. He knew where I lived. He’d been there before, when we were planning the meeting with the Russians. So why did he stay away? The answers to that and so many more questions burning through my mind would be buried with him six feet under.

For the second time in less than a year, my Aunt Rosa buried her son, but this time the only person in attendance to hold her hand was my mother. In light of everything Eddie had done, Aunt Rosa turned into herself. She didn’t speak to anyone but my mother and spent most of her time in church mourning the loss of a son she never really knew.

It took a few weeks for the physical wounds Eddie had inflicted to heal over. However, the scars on our souls he had left in his wake were permanent. We’d never be able to understand why he did what he did. The only choice we had was to pick up the pieces that were left and try to move forward—together.