TOMMY
How could silence be awkward?Silence is simply the absence of someone else intruding on my thoughts, vying for my attention. That sort of peacefulness has never bothered me. I thought I was immune to what others describe as the discomfort of an awkward silence.
I thought wrong.
Two hours pass before Danika retreats to her room. Two long hours of warring thoughts bombarding me with demands to say something—do something—fix it. I hate how inept I feel at navigating this standoff. Danika isn’t telling me everything. I know there’s more to her story, but I can’t find a way to coax the truth from her.
I told myself to put fear into her when I confronted her in her bedroom—that having her fear me was worth our safety. Fear and pain are powerful motivators, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t hurt her with those wide evergreen eyes staring back at me.
So where does that leave me?
I have no fucking clue, which made the silence between us so undeniably frustrating. I felt this oppressive pressure to say something that would convince her to trust me, but without anyidea what words might work, that pressure had no outlet. The atmosphere between us felt dense and stagnant like ocean air trapped on the coast before a storm pushes through.
I couldn’t even be relieved when she retreated to her room because it left me with no choice but to make the call I’d been putting off all afternoon. I’d used her presence as an excuse. Now, I have none. It’s time to tell my brother what’s been going on, especially after today’s adventure with DiAngelo, though Renzo has probably already been given a debriefing, considering how close those two have become since I left for Sicily.
I take a minute to put a precooked meal in the oven before dialing Renzo’s number.
“Yeah?”
“You have a minute?” I ask.
“Sure, I’m just leaving Terina’s place. What’s up?” Renzo has kept an eye on our sister ever since she lost her husband and then our dad died within a matter of months. That was years ago, but she’s never fully recovered.
“She okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. Just checking in with her. What did you need?”
“I wanted to talk to you about what’s going on with the Russians.”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “That doesn’t seem to be going away. D and I were just talking about it earlier.”
Interesting. DiAngelo, or D as my brother calls him, must not have told my brother about our excursion this morning, or Renzo would have mentioned it right off.
“What’s your take on the situation?” I ask.
“If I had to put money on it, I’d say Biba’s on the brink of war with Reaper’s crew. I’m curious if the two have met and whether we can find out what Biba knows about the guy. I’d rather be two steps ahead should the dominos start falling in our direction.”
“You think we’ll feel the effects?”
“Don’t see a way around it. Something that big is bound to spread. Why’re you asking?”
I weigh my words carefully. “I’ve got some information, but I don’t know how it fits in the picture. It may not be relevant at all except that it has to do with Biba.”
“Okay…” he prompts me to continue.
“Two days ago, a woman broke into my place.”
“No shit?”
“She told me Biba was after her for taking something from him. She claims she knew the guy who owned my apartment before me and the fact that she happened into a Moretti home is pure coincidence.”
Renzo stays quiet. If there’s one thing we can agree on, it’s that coincidences are bullshit.
“I wasn’t ready to release her until I knew more about the situation, so I did some digging. Turns out Biba’s got a million-dollar reward out for her.”
“Fucking Christ, tell me you don’t still have this girl stashed at your place, Tommy. The last thing we need is to involve ourselves in Biba’s mess.”
I’m fairly certain anything he could have said would have irritated me, but his quick reprimand and dismissal of my judgment on the situation are especially abrasive.
