By Any Other Name (24 page)

Enzo stood there, continually blocking the doorway, until the guys conceded and walked away. Once they were gone, he turned back to her, his expression furious. "You Galantes certainly live up to your reputation… stupid as fuck."

"What are you up to?" she asked, her voice strained. "What was that about me and my brother?"

Enzo said nothing as he turned away from her, glancing out into the street, before grabbing her arm. "You need to get the hell out of here.
Now
."

She wanted to protest, wanted to fight as he roughly pulled her out of the stairwell and into the street, but words were lost on her momentarily. He kept a painful grip on her as he hurried past The Place, toward the underground parking garage Matty always parked in. The red Lotus was nowhere to be seen, but Enzo pulled her toward a black Mercedes right beside the vacant spot.

"Get in," he demanded, opening the passenger door.

"What gives you the right to order me around?"

He glared at her. "Just get in the fucking car, Galante."

She hesitated naturally, frightened by what following his orders might mean, but a car abruptly swinging into the parking garage set her in motion. This was still enemy territory, and while the man glaring at her was undoubtedly dangerous, Matty had assured her
he
 at least wouldn’t harm her.

Besides, he had just protected her, hadn’t he?

She slid into the cool leather seat, her heart racing, and flinched when Enzo slammed the door. She hoped she wasn’t making a grave mistake.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked as soon as he got in beside her and started the car.

Enzo didn't answer right away, waiting until he was out of the parking garage and into traffic to address her. "I'm taking you home."

For some reason, that answer surprised her. "Home?"

"Yes, home, where you belong," he said. "It's not safe for you here, especially now."

"Why would you...?" She trailed off, stunned. "I don't understand why you'd do that for me, why you just shielded me back there. You
hate
me."

"I do," he admitted, not at all apologetic about that. "More than you even know. I hate everything about you, everything you stand for. I hate even having to breathe the same fucking air as you."

"Then why?"

"Because my brother doesn't." He cut his eyes angrily at her. "I don't trust you, I have no use for you, but for some godforsaken reason Matty says he does. And, well, we lost a lot tonight. I don't think he would take well to losing you on top of it. One death's enough to deal with."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't thank me," he said sharply. "Thank my brother. If not for him, I would have killed you the second I saw your face. And fuck if I still don’t wish I could."

From the tone of his voice, she believed those words.

They said nothing else as Enzo sped through the streets, the car never even slowing as he crossed into her father's territory. Not an ounce of fear showed in his expression, no apprehension. He must venture over there a lot, she thought.

That fact unnerved her. She always felt safe there, as naive as it may have been. These streets were theirs. Nothing could happen to her, nobody would ever dare touch her. But clearly, she’d banked too much on those invisible boundaries, acting as if they were bulletproof walls, physically repelling them from breeching the neighborhood. She had crossed the boundaries so easily, so carelessly… what made her think someone like Enzo Barsanti wouldn’t be brazen enough to do the same?

He drove straight toward her house, just like Matty had, not needing any directions. He stopped a block over, though, swinging his car into a small alley and putting it in park. “I’m not going any closer, so you’re going to have to walk the rest of the way.”

She glanced at him, oddly having the urge to thank him again, but she swallowed back her gratitude, as bitter as it may have been. Her 'thank you' would never be met with a 'you're welcome'.  “Where
is
Matty?”

Enzo glared at her. “Your guess is as good as mine. Probably better than mine.”

“You don’t know?” she asked hesitantly. “I came there tonight because he said he wanted to see me, that he
needed
to see me.”

“Doesn’t surprise me, but no, I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head as he laughed bitterly under his breath. “You ever seen my brother upset?”

“No.”

“Let’s just say I might not be the scariest Barsanti on the streets tonight.”

Matty? Scary?
Hardly
. “He’s always so calm.”

“He is,” he agreed. “But it’s the calm ones you gotta worry about.” Enzo reached over past her, grabbing the handle and thrusting the door open. “Now get out of my car before I change my mind and decide to kill you anyway.”

He didn’t have to tell her again. Genna climbed out, unable to stop the words “thank you” from escaping her lips that time. As she slammed the door closed, she heard Enzo groan with annoyance, shouting out, "you're not fucking welcome." He threw the car in reverse as she stood there, swinging it out of the alley and speeding away.

Genna ran the block home, breathing heavily by the time she reached the house. She snuck back inside, doing her best to not make a sound as she headed for the stairs, but someone startled her when she reached the second floor.

“Where have you been?”

Genna jumped, grasping her chest when Dante stepped out of his bedroom. “Downstairs.”

“And before that?”

“Outside.”

“Where?”

“Why?”

Dante’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he stepped toward her, circling her like a vulture. “Why do you smell like cheap cologne?”

“Why are you sniffing me?”

A smile cracked Dante’s expression. “Why are you answering my questions with questions?”

“Why are you even questioning me?”

He seemed to have no response to that, merely shrugging a shoulder. Genna stood there, waiting for him to say something else, but she turned to head into her room when he remained silent.

“Hey, wait,” he said, catching her arm. “I’m sorry.”

“About?”

“Everything,” he said. “Tonight, you know... Bert... what Dad tried to do. He just wants you to be with someone he can trust you with… someone that can keep you safe. Especially now."

Especially now
. Those were the same words Enzo had used. Hearing them made her stomach drop. A storm was brewing, and she had a terrible feeling it was going to get ugly. "I don't need Bert to keep me safe. I have zero interest in him."

"I know you don't," he said, eyeing her peculiarly. "I'm just curious who you
do
have interest in."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Genna. I taught you everything you know. I know you better than anybody. Who is it?"

"It's, uh… nobody."

"Who were you with tonight?"

"Nobody."

"It's not Gavin, right?"

"What? Of course not!"

"Is it Jackson again?" Dante pressed.

"No."

"You can tell me, Genna," he said seriously. "I know Dad doesn't want you seeing him anymore, and I can't say I don't agree. I don't think he deserves even a second of your time, but I'm not going to rat you out. I never would. Just…
tell
me you're seeing Jackson again."

There was something in his voice, the pleading tone when he asked her to tell him, which suggested to Genna that he truly wanted to hear her say that. "Why?"

"Because you're seeing
somebody
," he replied. "Sneaking around, coming home smelling like cologne, being evasive… last week you had a hickey near your collarbone—don't think I didn't notice that. You're lucky Dad didn't spot it. So the point is there's someone, and I just… just tell me it's Jackson you're seeing and I'll leave you alone, but…"

He trailed off, and Genna heard the concern in his unspoken words. He was worried who else it might be. Was he on to her? She couldn't even fathom what he would think when he found out. This was the ultimate betrayal. She was consorting with the enemy.

But this was her brother, her best friend…

How could she ever choose between them?

"Fine," she muttered. "You're right."

Dante's expression instantly softened, relief shining through that made guilt nag at her. She hadn't exactly lied to him then… he was right, she
was
seeing someone… but she had misled him, letting him believe whatever he wanted to believe.

It was the only way.

"Just be careful, okay?" Dante said.

"I will," she replied, smiling softly. He was always concerned about her when there was so much more in life he needed to be worried about. "I promise."

She escaped to her room then, kicking her shoes off and flopping down on the bed as she pulled her phone from her pocket. No new messages. No missed calls. No sign of Matty.

She just hoped
he
was being careful, wherever he was.

Dark.
So fucking dark.

The casket was the color of bitter chocolate, so brown it was almost black, matching the cars aligning the narrow pathway through the small cemetery. The air was dreary, cool and damp, clouds covering every inch of sky, not an ounce of sunshine breaking through anywhere.

Even the earth seemed to be mourning.

Splashes of color dotted the landscape as blood red roses covered the top of the casket. Roberto Barsanti stood front-and-center, Matty and Enzo at his side, all three dressed impeccably in pitch-black three-piece suits, while masses of bodies surrounded them, heads bowed, hands clasped in front of them. Hundreds had come out to pay their respects, so many connected men amassed in one place that it drew the attention of law enforcement.

Local cops were strategically positioned around the cemetery while FBI surveillance parked farther off, watching and waiting. It was probably the only time they appreciated the attention, given they were more vulnerable at that moment than they had ever been before.

Nobody came armed, out of respect for Savina.

She had wanted the violence to end.

It wouldn't, though. Matty could sense the storm brewing, the heaviness in the air about so much more than just one death.

It was about the ones to come.

"Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her," the priest said, making the sign of the cross over the casket. "May she rest in peace."

A chorus of "Amen" flowed through the crowd. Matty lowered his head and closed his eyes as the priest finished.

"May her soul, and the souls of
all
the faithful departed, through the mercy of God rest in peace."

The crowd dispersed then, scattering in different directions throughout the cemetery as the service ended. Dozens of people lined up, taking the chance to personally address the family. Matty kept his head down and his hands clasped in front of him as he listened to his father acknowledge their condolences. Nobody spoke to him, skipping right past as if he weren't there. He wasn't even sure they
saw
him.

He felt like a ghost.

When the last one had gone through, Matty turned to walk away when his father grasped his shoulder, squeezing so tightly Matty grimaced. "I expect you at the house, Matteo."

"Of course," Matty muttered. He would go, for his mother, but he had no desire to be around those people, and he ventured to guess most of them didn't care if he showed up anyway. "I'll be there."

He wandered through the graveyard, toward his Lotus parked along the front, the bright red sports car sticking out like a sore thumb surrounded by the masses of dark sedans. He pulled his keys from his pocket, starting the engine from afar, and had almost reached it when someone called his name. "Yo, Matty, wait up!"

He slowed his steps as his brother jogged to catch up to him. He hadn't seen Enzo since that moment in his mother's bedroom when she'd taken her last breath. He had disappeared to handle whatever the family was planning, while Matty merely wandered around in a fog, getting lost in the darkness. "En."

Enzo slapped him on the back, breathing heavily as he said, "Where you been?"

"Around," Matty replied. "Why?"

"No reason." Enzo shook his head, his footsteps stalling. "Just haven't seen you. You haven't come home."

Matty knew he meant the apartment above The Place, but his words were contradictory. That wasn't his home. He didn't have one, not really, not anymore… if he had even ever had one. The closest he got was the house in New Jersey, and that was exactly where he had gone.

At least he could
think
there.

Sighing, Matty opened the driver's side door of his car and paused, not intending to entertain his brother with an explanation. He turned to Enzo, eyeing him curiously. "You need a ride?"

"I, uh…" Enzo glanced around, shrugging a shoulder. "Yeah, sure."

They didn't speak during the drive, the music so loud it hindered any chance of conversation. Matty struggled to find parking at the Barsanti house, pulling past the waiting sedans, and leaving the Lotus down the block. He expected to slip into the house undetected, to continually fly under the radar, but he was accosted the second he stepped through the door. Someone stepped right in front of him, someone Matty only vaguely recognized as one of his father's associates.

The man, with deep gray hair and leathery skin, immediately grasped Matty's hand and firmly shook it. "Matteo Barsanti, it's an honor to finally meet you."

Matty was taken aback.

"You don't know how long we've waited for you to come back," the man continued, clutching his hand tightly, showing no sign of letting go anytime soon. "How long we waited for you to take your place."

Matty's stomach sunk. "I wouldn't say I—"

Before he could finish his sentence, they were interrupted by a group of men, others butting into the conversation to introduce themselves to him. Matty shook their hands, names evading him, forgotten the second they were given. An overwhelming tension overtook his body, his hair bristling at the attention. He tried to take it in stride, to brush it off and slip away, but it became clear to him quickly that it wasn't fleeting.

It was just beginning.

Glancing across the room, he saw his father standing along the wall, sipping from a glass of scotch, his lips twitching as he watched them. And he knew it then, taking in his smug expression, the look that spoke of countless expectations.

He'd orchestrated this.

Enzo slipped through the crowd, interrupting to pull a baffled Matty aside.

"The books opened today," Enzo explained quietly, keeping his stance nonchalant but there was a caution to his words. "I wanted to warn you, I was going to tell you on the way here, but…"

But Enzo wasn't supposed to
. Matty sighed, running his hand through his hair. "He's using this as a meet-and-greet, isn't he? He's going to try to nominate me."

"Not
try
," Enzo said. "The old man is going to do it, whether you like it or not."

"And if I decline?"

Enzo shrugged. "Beats me. Nobody's ever refused him before."

Matty glanced around, surveying the crowd. He hadn't thought it possible, but the worst day of his life had suddenly gotten even worse. "I'm gonna need a drink."

Enzo slapped him on the back. "I'll get you one."

"Make it strong," Matty said.

If he had to do it, there was no way he could do it sober.

Rambunctious chatter and loud music trailed Genna as she trudged upstairs, head down, eyes fixed on her pink-polished toes. Her shoes swung in her hand and her shoulders sagged. Relief washed through her as she escaped the festivities, but it wasn't nearly strong enough to overshadow her sorrow. Now that she was alone, away from prying eyes, it shone brightly in her features, worry etched in the too-deep lines on her young face. She was worried.

Really fucking worried.

She hadn't heard from Matty in days, ever since he had sent the string of desperate text messages.

She strode quietly down the hall and slipped into her back bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind her. She dropped her shoes on the floor and leaned back against the wooden door, closing her eyes. This night had been the longest of her life, the most trying of her patience. So many times she had been close to flipping, to snapping, all of her frustrations and grievances perched on the tip of her tongue, but she continually swallowed them back as she plastered on a smile to save face. So they wouldn't know… so they wouldn't see.

So they wouldn't realize she felt differently.

All night long, over and over, she had heard the name, spat in scathing, disgust-filled voices.
Barsanti
.

Sighing, she pushed away from the door and glanced around. Her dress was too tight, the air too stifling. She felt like she was suffocating as the sounds from below reached even in here. Frustrated, she walked to the sliding glass door and unlocked it, shoving the curtains aside to open it. A rush of cool, damp air assaulted her. She inhaled deeply, breathing it in, welcoming it as she stepped out onto the small terrace. Her feet seemed to slide against the wood from the drizzling rain. Despite summer being upon them, the nights were still chilly. Not a star could be seen tonight, the moon shrouded in a thick blanket of gray clouds, casting a hazy gloominess upon everything.

She propped herself on the wooden railing as the wind whipped around her, rustling the blooming trees and blowing her long hair into her face. It was such a tumultuous night, her thoughts distracting her so much that she nearly missed the movement in the yard below. The form blended into the shadows around the trees just below the balcony until a blast of silent lightening flashed, illuminating the area. Although it made no sound, Genna jolted as if a crack of thunder had struck right beside her. Startled, she grasped her chest as she stared at the figure.

"Matty?" she gasped.

He stood there in the yard, his fitted black suit somehow looking too big, like he was drowning in the material. The top buttons of the shirt were undone as it hung half-tucked into his pants, the tie knotted loosely around his neck as he tugged on it.

Suffocating. He was suffocating, too.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, heart thumping erratically in her chest. He was there, in her backyard. That was the last place he should
ever
be.

His words slurred together as he said, "I needed to see you."

"You couldn't have just called?"

"
See
you," he stressed. "I had to see you, Genna."

"Skype?" she suggested, leaning over the railing as she gaped at him, rain starting to fall harder on them as more lightning flashed. "Facetime? Something?"

"It's not the same."

It wasn't, she knew, but he shouldn't have come there. Her eyes darted around nervously as her stomach clenched. "Jesus, Matty, you can't be here. Someone could see you. It's not safe. You know that."

"It doesn't matter." He stepped forward, staggering as he tugged on his tie some more.

"It does matter! Do you know what they'd do if they saw you here?"

"Kill me." His response was impassive. "I don't care."

"You should."

"Why?" He gazed up at her, raindrops splattering his face and dripping from his washed-out skin. "What do I have to live for?"

"Me," she said right away. "Live for
me
."

Agony crossed his expression, his eyes leaving hers as his gaze drifted toward the backdoor of the house. Just yards from him, the biggest and most powerful members of the Galante crime family gathered. Every single man down there knew who he was and wanted nothing more than to see him and everyone he loved destroyed. Nothing but wood, and brick, and glass separated him from his demise, yet he just stood there, statuesque, like he wasn't afraid to see his end.

It terrified her, though. God, did it scare her.

"You can't be here," she said in a panicked whisper. "You have to leave, Matty."

"I can't." His voice cracked as his eyes met hers again. "I have nowhere to go."