“Unknown. But this was done with deadly accuracy. Even though they were on different sides of the street and wearing unrelated disguises, they were taken out within seconds of one another. And no one other than them, Tara Greene and Molly were injured.”
I studied the file and the camera lens. “Where did you find this?”
“In the hallway. Sandro has the other one. It was aimed to capture footage from the gym.”
There was nothing random about this. Not one goddamn thing.
“It was someone who knows us, then,” I stated. “Someone who knows our men and maybe our methods.”
“Or someone on the inside,” Marco suggested.
“You think this is betrayal rather than an enemy attack?”
My brother’s mouth twisted in an ugly way. “I smell a rat.”
I wanted to nail down what I could about this, figure out who this was so they could be obliterated from existence, but instead I peered over at the motionless form of Molly. I couldn’t leave her.
“Marco, I want you and the others to investigate this. Do everything necessary to ascertain whoever’s responsible.”
He nodded, his expression determined. “Already on it, brother.”
Two more days passed.
Her skin had grown less and less jaundiced, so that was a good sign. She’d been on an intravenous drip continually to rehydrate her, so maybe that was helping. Still, her condition remained critical. Touch and go. Her recovery far from certain.
Earlier when I’d asked if there was anything I could do to help her, the nurse had suggested I give blood. Since she allowed me to do it right there, I did. All my brothers donated, as well. It may not be assisting Molly directly but making some sort of contribution felt better than doing nothing.
The days and nights began to merge into one extended jumble. I hadn’t rested in all that time, hadn’t been able to. It seemed wrong somehow. Like I would miss the moment when Molly reemerged from wherever she was, and I couldn’t take that chance. Such a thing as a nap felt self-serving to me. Especially when she was teetering on the edge of life and death.
I didn’t want to think about it, but if I dozed off and missed Molly’s passing, I’d never forgive myself.
I’d never told her that I loved her. I’d felt like it would put her in jeopardy. Here with her now, I ached to say it, but I knew she couldn’t hear me. And I needed her to hear me. I needed her to be cognizant and aware when she heard those words.
Instead, I held her hand and silently swore to her that once she awakened, I’d tell her. I’d tell her every day for the rest of my life. I’d known for a long time that I loved her, the kind of love that was deep and abiding, the kind of love that would never die, even if I did. And that was the kind of thing I needed to tell her face to face.
Greta came by with Anna. It’d been my request. I was used to spending several hours with my baby girl daily, and I missed her. I needed to see her bright face and cheerful eyes. I brought her into the room with Molly, thinking maybe my daughter’s natural happiness might lift the dark cloud that was hovering over me, hovering over the situation in general.
Anna had touched Molly’s face, too, so delicately. She was such a sweet, nurturing soul, even at such a tender age. I thought for a moment that the rhythm of the beeps on Molly’s monitors had reacted to my daughter’s touch, increasing for the briefest of instants, but when I asked the nurses about it, they reported no change.
I guess it was just wishful thinking.
Though my father had been raised Catholic, we’d never practiced any sort of religion as a family. Other than for funerals, we’d never gone into a church for appearances’ or any other’s sake. Faith had never been a part of our lives.
Yet, as I sat next to the woman I loved languishing in her hospital bed, I raised her hand and laced her fingers with mine, our fingertips pointed upward toward the ceiling. A prayerful pose. I closed my eyes, propped my head on her bed, and began to start an internal dialogue as if someone else could hear me.
I’m not a good man, I know that. I’ve done a lot of bad things, evil things, so if you’re trying to punish me, I get it. I understand that I deserve it. The Varasso men may all deserve it. We’ve never been anything but criminals. Not in generations. Maybe that’s why you keep cursing us.
But you’re punishing the wrong people. My mother didn’t do anything wrong. She loved my father, and she loved us. And Alana. She was pure. Innocent. And you stole her away before she had a chance to live, before she could even meet her own daughter. Our Anna, who is an angel is there ever was one.
And now Molly. She’s had a lot harder life than either my mom or Alana did. So maybe she’s not quite as innocent. But that’s not her fault. You’ve allowed her to get hurt, allowed her sister to die right next to her. I know you might still take our baby. But I’m fighting for her. I’m standing up on her behalf. Because what you’re doing is wrong.
If you want to punish someone, hurt someone, punish me. Hurt me. Molly doesn’t deserve it. I hate that because I love her and she loves me, she now has a target on her back. Well, I’m asking you to take that target off. To stop taking our wives and mothers and daughters. To stop taking the women we love.
If you do, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll do something good. Something noble. If you let Molly wake up and come back to me, and if you keep our baby safe, I’ll divert a portion of all Varasso profits into good things here in Philadelphia. Charities. Churches. Food banks. Shelters. Scholarships.
I’ll make sure the tradition is upheld. I’ll make it a requirement. But you have to hold up your end of the bargain first. You’ll have to make it worth my while. If there is an afterlife, if heaven and hell exist, I know where I’m going. And I’m okay with that.
I’m not going to claim to know how any of this works. I don’t even know if you’re real. But if you are, if you’re listening, I’ll work with you. I’ll make good on this deal. I’ll offer more generosity to the world. I’ll tell Molly the truth about how I feel. I’ll explain everything and never lie to her again. I’ll love her till my dying breath and beyond. I swear it.