His voice is like gravel. “I’m not that boy anymore.”
“None of us are the boys we were. But they still live inside us. Even you,” I say before he can contradict me.
“I appreciate the effort, cousin. But it’s too late for me.”
“Fuck that.” A different kind of fury fuels me, and I get right in his face. “You will never not be part of this family.”
He’s silent for a moment. “I have to go. Keep your woman safe.” His gaze moves to the house. “Keep them all safe.”
He melts away from me and is gone. Matteo might not be a ghost, but he fucking well knows how to imitate one.
I head for the house to find Romero; my phone vibrates. The readout says it’s Jeeter.
Suppressing a twinge of impatience, I answer it. “Hey, Jeeter. What’s up?”
“Help me.” The terrified whimper chills my blood.
And then he screams.
