Over twenty four hours had gone by since Don Angelo called. I checked my timer frequently. Due to my hangover, we didn't leave the apartment yesterday. Scott took good care of me. He cooked for us, made sure I took painkillers and had plenty of fluids. Packed the dishwasher without me telling him to even though it was my turn.
We spent the afternoon going through his stacks of old photos of us, reminiscing over the last seven years. I needed the photos for the scrapbook I was making to show his mom. He didn't need to know that. We talked late into the night when I couldn't sleep. He massaged my back because he knew I was stressed. Waiting for news was hard, especially since there was nothing to do and no place to be.
That last part wasn't strictly true. Scott and I did have some place to be. We were supposed to be in Vermont on vacation, doing whatever the fuck you do in Vermont. Instead, against my better judgement, I had invited my anxious mother over. She kept calling every five minutes and it was driving me nuts.
"Your father called," said Collette, the moment I opened the door to let her in.
"Hello to you too. How am I? Just peachy. What about you, mom?" I blurted out.
I was stressed, worried and probably every other negative emotion in the book. It really wasn't the time for me to be talking to Collette.
"Come in," said Scott, replacing me at the front door when I walked away in frustration.
He showed her into the living room, where I was already seated.
"I'll give you guys a second," he said and I shot him a panicked look. "Or I'll just stay right here. Please, take a seat," he said to my mother, smiling at me reassuringly from the doorway.
No sooner had Collette sat down than she turned to me and said, "Take the deal. Go home. Jenny won't survive the mafia. You on the other hand—"
"I what, Collette? I don't deserve my own life? This was a bad idea. I thought," I ranted, taking a deep breath. "Like an idiot, I thought you came here to be supportive. To ask, 'Hey Stacy, you must be stressed about your brother hunting your sister. Is there anything I can do to help? Oh, and by the way, how have you been these last fifteen years after I abandoned you?'"
That last part hit me hard. It's not that I didn't know that that's what happened, but suddenly I was seeing her frequently again and the wound was freshly ripped open. I sacrificed all the family I had and doomed myself to be forever looking over my shoulder to set her free and she didn't seem to give a damn.
"How have you been these last fifteen years?" Collette asked quietly, daring to sneak a look at me.
"I've seen so many people drop dead before me that I don't even bat an eye when it happens anymore. I've been manipulated, imprisoned, controlled all my life. It's a small mercy he didn't take to beating the shit out of me the way he did with you. I'm so damaged that sometimes I don't even think getting out makes sense for someone like me. And that can't be true, because I have spent seven years working towards it. Most nights, I struggle to believe that I matter. So much so, that when you come in here telling me the same shit I tell myself all the time, that Jenny matters more than me, I fucking believe you. You left me with a fucking psychotic monster, Collette. How the fuck do you think I am?" I asked, rage reverberating throughout my body.
"Us leaving without you was your idea. No one made you do it," she said, her voice stern.
"I was ten," I yelled. "I was fucking ten. Leaving a ten year old with a man like Don Angelo is called abandonment, Collette."
"You were his daughter," Collette yelled back, any semblance of shame she felt long gone. "His one true heir. You thought alike, acted alike. Had the same mannerisms. He had you hunting for sport when you were nine. He was grooming you to be just like him and you ate it up. You were so much like him, you terrified me."
And there it was. The real reason she didn't think twice about leaving me behind. My mind went into overdrive. Of course I was my father's daughter. Don Angelo was no savant, but his cunning made up for it. So I had to learn to out-think him. Be just enough like him that he would trust me. How else was I to survive? This was my big crime. Why I didn't deserve love, according to my own mother.
"That's it. Enough. Time to go," said Scott, his voice controlled, but only just.
"Don't let him kill Jenny," Collette pleaded.
"Get the fuck out," I said, getting up to go to the bedroom. "Scott will show you to the door."
Once I got into the bedroom, I slammed the door shut behind me and locked it. Much as I would have liked to say otherwise, my mother had gotten into my head again. She was right. I was too much like Don Angelo to make a real go of a life outside of the mafia. Jenny got out early. She still had a chance. The right thing to do, the only thing to do, was save her. Stop trying so damn hard. Sooner or later, Don Angelo would find a way around the dead man's switch anyway. It had been a stupid idea to begin with. It wasn't enough to protect Jenny. I probably couldn't protect Scott either. Or Kenny or Willow or Scott's mom.
Why hadn't I sent everything that I had on Don Angelo to the authorities when Jenny went missing? That wasn't smart. It was the one card I had to play and it wouldn't have stopped someone like Joey from going after Jenny. No, that wasn't it. I wasn't brave enough to go toe to toe with my father. Sooner or later, he would figure that out, if he hadn't already. He was toying with me. I needed to get the fuck out of here before he stopped playing my game. I had to go back. Save Jenny. We wouldn't find her in time. Don Angelo would win. He always won.
With these thoughts flooding my head, I picked up my phone and checked the timer again. We were down to twenty three hours, fifteen minutes and forty three seconds. Not that it really mattered. I had already made up my mind to call Luca.
"Ciao bella," his voice c
ame through the phone. "What can I do for you?"