After six weeks in New York, I returned to Camorra territory with trepidation. My short encounter with Nevio in New York hadn’t been conducive to forgetting him and what had happened between us.
If Nevio’s intention had been to unsettle me, he’d succeeded. Maybe this had turned into a sick game for him. I wouldn’t be played. Still, Marcos’s death weighed heavily on my conscience. Of course, I couldn’t be sure it had been Nevio. Nothing pointed toward him. I wasn’t familiar with his killing style. All my life, I’d done my best not to dwell on what he did not only for the Camorra but also for fun at night. Marcos hadn’t been tortured. The police still thought it was a mugging gone wrong. But Luca’s suspicion had confirmed my own.
Mom, Dad, and Davide had picked me up in New York themselves, and we’d spent two days in the city as a family because I wasn’t returning to Las Vegas right away. I’d spend a few more weeks with the racing circus. I was excited about the chance to see Roman, Adamo, and Dinara again and really spend time with them, as their visits in Las Vegas were usually short.
Dinara hugged me when I got out of Adamo’s car. Roman flung himself into my arms, and I lifted him with a huff. “You’ve gotten heavy!”
It felt as if he’d grown several inches since I’d last seen him.
“We’re so happy that you’re going to join us for a while,” Dinara said with a smile.
“You’re happy to have me as a babysitter,” I joked.
Dinara tossed her red hair back, looking indignant. “You know we love having you. But Roman missed you, so he’ll definitely want to spend time with you.” She grinned, and I laughed.
“I missed him too.” I hugged him even tighter until he started squirming, and I had to set him down.
“We got you your own trailer this time, so you have privacy.” Adamo said led me toward a campervan that stood right beside their mobile home, which was huge compared to most trailers, campervans, and VW buses that many of the drivers used as their home during the races. Of course, most of them didn’t travel with a family.
“And you really want to help our doc and not join the races?” Dinara asked as we sat down in front of their motorhome a bit later for a dinner of grilled steak and delicious Russian potato salad.
I shook my head. “I don’t think racing’s really in my blood. I love the wind in my hair when I throw myself down the half-pipe, but barreling through the desert at 150 miles per hour doesn’t really seem appealing to me.”
“If you change your mind, I’ll give you a crash course, and I’m sure we can find a car really quickly for you,” she said.
“Dinara has been trying to recruit girls for the races for ages, and you’re one of her top choices. She’d love to have you around more often.”
I grinned. I really liked the freedom living with Adamo and Dinara gave me, but I’d miss my family and the crazy Falcone clan in the long run.
It was past midnight when Dinara glanced at her watch with a deep-belly sigh. “Tomorrow’s a qualification race. We should probably head to bed.”
I was ridiculously tired anyway. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.
The air was ripe with nervous energy when I emerged from my campervan the following morning. People buzzed around, making last-minute repairs on their cars. Adamo and Dinara were set for tomorrow’s race, so they didn’t have to join the qualification race. As the organizers, their workload was still massive, so I would spend the day with Roman until the actual qualification started.
“Look!” Roman shouted excitedly, pointing at a car that pulled up in the line of participating cars. It was a black Ford Mustang with red headlights. Even before I looked inside, I knew whom I’d be seeing.
My lips still fell open when I spotted him behind the steering wheel, one arm casually draped on the lowered window: Nevio.
Roman let out a holler and waved at his cousin. My belly, however, coiled so tightly, I worried I’d projectile vomit my breakfast. This time, Nevio wasn’t alone. Alessio and Massimo were in the car with him. I knew those two would hardly hold Nevio back from whatever madness he had planned now.
“Dad!” Roman shouted at Adamo, who stood only a few steps away and was discussing something with one of the race drivers. He looked up and followed Roman’s pointing finger. His dark brows dipped in confusion. I walked over to him while Roman rushed toward the Mustang.
“Has he ever joined a race before?” I asked Adamo when I arrived by his side, doing my best to sound mildly interested and not show how anxious Nevio’s appearance actually made me.
Adamo shook his head. “I thought motocross was his thing. Maybe he needs a new hobby to keep him out of trouble. But Massimo, Alessio, and he have visited the races before to hang out with me.”
I had a feeling Nevio wasn’t here to stay out of trouble. He was here to cause it. For me. When our eyes met and he gave me a sly smile, I knew I was right.
He joined the qualification race that day. As the Capo’s son, he didn’t have any trouble getting a spot, of course, and knowing Nevio, he probably would have gotten rid of anyone in his way.
Roman and I accompanied the race in one of the camera cars. I knew the driver from my last time at the races. Gigimo gave me a broad smile when I slipped across the back seat with my little cousin. “Any bets on who’s going to win the qualification?” he asked.
I shrugged. Nevio would probably play dirty, so his chances weren’t too bad, though I seriously doubted his incentive to come here was to win any races.
I tried to enjoy the atmosphere and the thrill of the race, but every time I caught a glimpse of the black Mustang with the eerie red headlights, my belly plummeted again. A small part of me, some really insane part I tried to ignore, felt thrilled about Nevio’s sudden interest in me. Though interest seemed a strange word for his deadly obsession.
“He seems eager to catch your attention,” Gigimo said about halfway through the race. We raced alongside the leading group of cars, but we kept losing them as their maneuvers got riskier.
I followed his gaze outside. The black Mustang drove close to us. Nevio had his window down, his arm propped up on the door, and was steering his car with one hand despite the mind-boggling speed. I sent him a scowl that he couldn’t misinterpret. The corner of his mouth tipped up in a half smile, then he tore his eyes from me to briefly assess Gigimo in a way that worried me before he focused on the track and his opponents.
Nevio came in third place, which was surprisingly good, considering he’d never joined a race before and had been busy annoying me throughout the race.
The moment Gigimo parked the camera car in the camp, I shoved open the door and got out. I wanted to put distance between him and me before Nevio misjudged something. Of course, Roman had other plans and chatted with Gigimo about every detail of today’s race.
I waited outside, but right when Nevio pulled into the camp, Gigimo joined me with a friendly smile.
“How did you enjoy today’s race?” he asked as he propped up one arm casually against his car, bringing us closer.
“It was cool.”
I knew it was rude, but I took Roman’s hand, and with a curt bye, I walked away. Gigimo was a nice enough guy. When I first met him at the races, he’d been a driver hiding from the police for robbing a gas station. Most people who were part of the race circus were either part of the mob or had a criminal record for other reasons.
I hid in Adamo’s and Dinara’s mobile home despite Roman’s protests and my annoyance. I didn’t want to have to hide. I’d been excited about spending time at the races. I loved the atmosphere, the crazy people, and the sense of freedom. I didn’t want Nevio to take this from me. Eventually, Roman’s begging and my own annoyance won out.
When many of the racers gathered around the bonfire, which was the tradition after every race, I finally emerged, too. I snatched a seat beside Dinara on a log. Adamo shared another log with the Unholy Trinity, and Roman rushed over there too.
My eyes briefly met Alessio’s. He looked almost sympathetic, but there was a hint of I told you so in his expression too. And he had warned me about Nevio. I’d like to think that I would have pulled away much sooner if I’d known what my infatuation would lead to, but if I was honest, I couldn’t be sure.
Dinara gave me a strange smile, her eyes keen. “Everything okay? You’ve been acting strange since the three showed up.”
I gave a small shrug. I didn’t want to lie, but I couldn’t tell the truth either. I had to call Carlotta again tomorrow, even if I knew what she’d say, the same thing she’d said when I’d shared how Nevio had stalked me in New York, minus the killing part, because I was worried the FBI or someone else was eavesdropping. She wanted me to tell on him, to talk to Remo, and if all else failed, even my father. But I simply couldn’t do it.
“I had an argument with them, so I’d rather not see them.”
I could tell from Dinara’s expression that she didn’t believe me. “Hmm.”
“Hey, can I join you?” Gigimo asked and sat down cross-legged on the dirty ground in front of us before we could say anything.
Dinara leaned over to me. “Do you want to be alone with him?”
“No,” I pressed out quickly. I didn’t even want him close.
Gigimo knew who I was and who my father was, but he wasn’t part of the mob, so maybe he didn’t understand what it meant. Plus, he didn’t know anything about my crazy stalker.
I glanced toward the log with the trinity, and of course, Nevio’s eyes were on us.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I was sick of him telling me what to do. If I wanted to chat with someone from the other sex, that was my business, not his. He probably still banged every girl he wanted.
“Are you and him an item?” Gigimo asked quietly, leaning closer so I could hear him over the blaring country music and the crackling of the fire. His arm bumped my shin.
“No,” I said, shocked that he’d think that.
Dinara emptied her beer with a chuckle. Apparently, she found the situation entertaining. I couldn’t blame her. I probably looked like a deer in the headlights.
Like the animal, I simply wanted to run away but couldn’t.
“I think I’ll go to bed,” I said eventually and rose to my feet.
“Do you want me to walk you to your trailer?” Gigimo asked and made a move as if to get up from the ground. That was the absolute last thing I needed.
Dinara rose to her feet. “I’ll take her. We have girl stuff to discuss anyway.”
I gave her a grateful smile when we were out of earshot and sight from Gigimo. Dinara wasn’t a woman who did girl talks, but she’d saved me from an awkward situation. “You can talk to me about everything, you know that, right? I’m not obligated to share any information with the Camorra.”
I nodded. I often forgot that Dinara sat between the chairs because her father had been the Pakhan of the Russian mob in the Chicago area before her half brothers had taken over.
We reached my campervan, and the motion sensor cast its dim glow on us. “If you don’t feel safe for any reason, I’ll help you figure something out, all right?”
“Nobody’s safer than Rory.” Nevio’s low voice came from the dark, almost giving me a heart attack.
Dinara and I whirled around to find Nevio a few steps behind us. His stalking talents were disturbing, albeit not surprisingly, outstanding.
“For heaven’s sake, Nevio, you almost made me pee my pants!” Dinara hissed.
Nevio stepped closer to us into the light, his hands casually tucked in his pockets. “I need to talk to Aurora.”
Dinara frowned at him, then glanced my way. I nodded my okay because I’d have to talk to him eventually. He was here because of me, and he wouldn’t leave.
“I’ll be over at the bonfire if you change your mind about going to bed.” Dinara gave Nevio a stern look, which he ignored before she walked away and disappeared behind another trailer. Now Nevio and I were alone and out of sight from prying eyes, which made my pulse spike. I wasn’t scared of Nevio, not in a way many people were scared of him. Maybe that was my main problem.
Nevio reached up for the lamp and turned it in the other direction so we weren’t in its direct beam anymore, then he leaned against my campervan. “Gigimo looked quite cozy next to you.”
“He knows me from the last two summers when I watched Roman.” I was proud of how controlled and cool my voice sounded despite the madness rocking my insides.
“So he thinks you two have history?”
I stared into Nevio’s dark eyes, wondering what the hell went on behind them. “If you count that as history, I have history with at least half of the race circuit, okay?”
He smiled strangely, and with the shadows playing on his face, it looked ominous. “You’re trying to protect him.”
“Are you jealous?” I asked scathingly.
Nevio’s smile sent a chill down my back. “I don’t get jealous, Rory. I get murderous.”
“You can’t kill everyone who talks to me.”
“Who’s going to stop me?”
“Your father will eventually have enough. People will ask questions and even a Capo has to answer to his soldiers at some point.”
“Oh, he’ll be mad at me. He’ll wanna kick my ass. But he’s not a saint. He’s got his own long list of hardly justified kills. And he’ll always have my back in front of others, so you really shouldn’t count on him to stop me.”
I shook my head. I took a deep breath, asking a question I’d avoided from fear of what it would do to me. “It was you, right? You killed Marcos because of me.”
Nevio’s eyes didn’t hold a hint of regret. He stepped closer, his gaze sliding over me like a cold shower. “He was too invested in your coffee orders.”
I took a step away from him, bumping into the side steps. “He was a normal guy. He was just flirting. He didn’t do anything, certainly nothing to deserve his death. What’s wrong with you?”
“The list is very long. I warned you to stay away from me, Rory. I really tried to keep you out of my head. He wanted the wrong girl, and I don’t play games.”
I swallowed hard. “He wasn’t even part of our world. You could have just scared him. You didn’t have to kill him. Do you even realize what this did to me? How the guilt has been eating away at me? Do you want to break me?”
Nevio grabbed my hand and pressed it against his chest. “I don’t care about him or pretty much the entire world population with a few exceptions. I don’t feel pity, and I fucking love hurting others. Yet you think I would send him off with a little warning like a normal guy?”
Feeling his heart beat calmly against my palm, a wave of anger mixed with despair overcame me because I still wished for his heart to beat for me. Did it? Did murdering someone so he couldn’t have me say it did, or did it just show how messed up Nevio was and that he’d turned whatever was between us into a sick game, a new adventure that would fill his nights?
I ripped my hand from his hold and turned away from him, feeling my eyes burn with unshed tears. I didn’t even know if Marcos had a family. Maybe I could send them an anonymous apology and some money to alleviate some of the guilt I still felt.
“Don’t cry for him, Rory. He wasn’t the nice guy you thought he was if it makes you feel any better. His last girlfriend got a restraining order against him because he kept breaking into her apartment and following her after she broke up with him. He even put dead birds on her doorstep.”
“You’re making that up to make me feel better,” I gritted out. I really wished he’d told me before because my conscience had been an absolute mess these past few weeks, but I guessed Nevio simply didn’t understand how a person could suffer because someone they barely knew had died. And even if Marcos was kind of messed up himself, did that make him deserving of death? No, but maybe it said a lot about me and made me feel better, just like Nevio intended.
Nevio shook his head slowly, a few strands falling down his forehead. “Didn’t I just make it clear that I don’t feel pity?”
I slanted him a look. “You also made it clear that you don’t care about others. What about me?”
Nevio regarded me in a way that halted my breath in my chest. It was an intimate look that slipped under my skin, warming every inch of my body, “I think that’s a question you can answer on your own.”
I huffed. “And your justification of why it was okay to kill him doesn’t even make sense coming from you since you’re also a stalker. I could probably get a restraining order against you if we weren’t part of the Mafia world.”
Nevio chuckled, obviously amused by my anger. “I don’t need justification to kill, Rory. I only told you for your benefit. I’d kill a fucking priest or Nobel Peace Prize winner if he made a move toward you.”
