Page 66 of Wild Card
“What did he do to you?” I ask, trying desperately to keep my voice calm. “Are you hurt?”
“I tried to stop him, but he locked me in the pantry. I was finally able to get out just now. He took her. He took Catriona to Freddie. I never thought he’d do such a thing. I thought she was safe with me. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say, cutting my gaze to Callan and Patrick. “I’ve got help, Nonna. Can you call Mrs. Macalear and have her check on you?”
She agrees, and I hang up. I blink slowly, steeling myself for what’s to come.
“I know where your sisters are, but I can’t get them out of there alone, and your father has made it clear he’s not interested in saving Catriona.”
I’d been worried about Nonna being collateral damage if I brought these men into the mix with Lorenzo being so unpredictable. I didn’t even know how to approach it. But now they’re right here, in front of me, and the three of us might be able to eliminate Lorenzo, Freddie, and the threat entirely.
Patrick looks at Callan, the tension in his body palpable, like he’s frozen between wanting to kill his father and dismantling me. I don’t give a shit if he tries either, but not until after Catriona and Bridget are safe.
“Please,” I urge. “Callan, you know what your father did to my family, but I came here anyway because what my uncle did was wrong. Because Catriona deserves better than being a martyr to your father’s and Lorenzo’s greed. Help me.”
Patrick’s jaw remains set, but his body relaxes slightly. “Don’t fucking insult us by insinuating that we won’t go rescue our sisters,” he hisses, glaring at me before turning back to Callan. “I’ll meet you two in the garage in five minutes.”
“Patrick,” Callan warns. “Don’t. He can’t know what we’re doing. Let’s not waste time. The girls need us.”
There’s another moment of tension, but Patrick finally relents.
I’m just glad someone cares so much about Catriona. Catriona and Bridget, maybe, but still, after her father’s cruel dismissal, I’m relieved to know that someone in her family will help me fight for her. That her siblings’ text messages were more than just bluster.
“Fill us in on the way,” Callan says as we head to the garage.
I tell them as much as I’m able to by the time we reach our cars. I give them Freddie’s address, and let them know the layout as best I can.
“They’ll be in the basement,” I say. “His family is up in the main parts of the house, and he won’t want them disturbed by his business.”
“You think I give a fuck about his family?” Patrick spits.
“No. But he does. So the basement. There’s a side door that leads into it and it’s being repaired. It’ll be our best way in. He’ll have at least one man guarding it. More men inside, though. We’ll have to be quiet so we don’t give ourselves away before we find your sisters.”
“Okay,” Callan says. “We’ll park a few blocks down and walk up together.”
It’s a command, but it doesn’t bother me. They’re taking a huge risk in trusting me when they have no reason to—I could be luring them into a trap. But Callan and Patrick know as much about mafia life as I do and it’s perversely comforting to have their particular expertise now. The drive down to Providence is the longest of my life. All of the terrible things that could be happening to Catriona run through my head as I speed down Route 95.
And Lorenzo.
How could he violate Nonna’s house like that?
Then I remember how he set my parents up. I haven’t had any time to come to terms with that.
It takes an hour to get close to Freddie’s. I pull over a block away, and Callan and Patrick pull up behind me. I don’t have to tell them to be cautious.
We walk silently up to the side door. I was right—one of Freddie’s men stands outside, not Sal, and Callan smashes a blackjack into his head before I can even point him out. Callan catches him before he falls and puts him quietly to the side of the door.
I was right about the shitty contracting work too. I shoulder the door open with minimal effort. I’m sure an alarm’s been triggered somewhere, though, so I expect company any second now.
The basement smells musty. It’s cold and dark, and I hope Catriona and Bridget haven’t been stuck down here too long. We creep along in silence, opening doors as we pass by. The loud pounding of feet echoes in the distance and Callan holds his hand up. Patrick disappears into the darkness of the hallway. The sound of a fight follows, and then the thump of a body hitting the floor. Patrick jogs back up and hands me a gun.
I don’t know whether to be glad that he trusts me enough to give me a weapon, or afraid he’s setting me up to take the fall if shit goes south.
I don’t care about taking the fall, though. I just want to end this. To save Catriona and her sister.
I feel something by my feet and look down. It’s the calico cat I’d seen Freddie kick. She meows at me, and I press my finger to my lips, as if she knows what that means. Her eyes glow in the dark, and she blinks at me before disappearing down a side corridor.
“This way,” I say.
