When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(83)

And on the other is a feeling buried so deep inside my gut that if I ignore it, it might rip through my organs and kill me outright.

My heart pounds inside my throat.

As an underboss, disobeying your don’s direct command is as good as handing in your resignation. There won’t be any coming back from this. Dem’s my brother. I’d die for him. I’d kill for him. I have killed for him.

But I can’t do this.

I can’t leave her.

I just fucking can’t.

I press the phone back to my ear.

“The answer is still no. I’m not leaving her here.”

“Ras—”

“I’m sorry, Dem. I am.”

I hang up. There’s a whoosh of blood in my ears as I try to pull myself together. There’s no time to ruminate on what I’ve just done. I have to figure out my plan.

I get out of the car and rush to help Gemma.

“You can stop fussing over me,” she says. “The doctor said my ribs aren’t broken, just bruised. They will heal on their own. And my lip didn’t even need a stitch.”

Relief floods me, but my hold on her stays firm as I help her into the car. “Good, but you’re still in pain. Did he give you anything for that?”

“He prescribed me oxycodone. I don’t know if I need it though.”

“Give me the script.”

She hands me the piece of paper and clasps my hand, making me meet her gaze. Her eyes are tired, but there’s so much damn resilience in those gray depths.

I have no fucking clue what we’re going to do, but the fact that I’m still here feels like a damn good start. There is no version of this universe where I’d get on a plane while she’s hurting.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“We’ll stop by the pharmacy.”

“And after that?” Her voice is flinty. “I… I don’t want to go back home. Not yet.”

I bite on my tongue. She’s not going back to that house, that’s for fucking sure, but where do I take her? Do I tell her about the impending arrest? Garzolo may have been taken in already. Her sister or her mom might be trying to contact her right now, but her phone is off inside my pocket.

If Gemma gets in contact with them, she might ask me to take her to them.

And I’d have to say no. Because as soon as she leaves my hands, Garzolo’s or Messero’s men will force me out. I didn’t go against Dem’s commands only to lose her in the next few hours.

Fuck, this is a mess. Going to Orrin’s will buy us a bit of time while I try to figure out what’s next.

When I put my hands on the wheel, I realize they’re shaking.

“I have an idea,” I say gruffly. “We’re going to go see a friend.”





CHAPTER 27





RAS


We pick up Gemma’s meds and then head straight to Orrin’s. Poet’s Cafe is empty when we arrive. The sign says it’s closed, and the lights are dimmed. When I open the door, a bell rings above us. There’s a lingering smell of coffee and sugar in the air.

“What is this place?” Gemma asks in a hushed tone as she takes a step inside.

“A friend owns it.” I follow her in and lock the door behind us.

A moment later, Orrin comes out from the back dressed in a black turtleneck, with an empty gun holster strapped across his chest. “You got here quickly,” he says, giving me a nod before moving his gaze to Gemma. His eyes widen.

Gemma presses into my side, and her instinctual reaction to seek safety with me makes warmth spread through my chest. I wrap an arm around her shoulders.

Orin raises a brow. “Who’s this?”

“Gemma.”

“As in Gemma Garzolo?”

“Yes.”

His eyes narrow. “Ras, what the fuck. What happened to her face?”

Gemma tenses beside me.

“Stefano Garzolo happened,” I mutter. “Do you have a change of clothes? Something she can wear?” Gemma’s still dressed in the yellow party dress from the night before and my suit jacket. I wish I’d remembered to take her winter coat when we left Garzolo’s house, but it wasn’t the biggest thing on my mind.

Orrin runs his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Give me a minute. But then you better explain what the fuck is going on.”

I nod at Orrin and watch him disappear into the back room. The half-hour drive gave me some time to think, and no matter how I look at it, there’s only one move that makes sense.

I have to get Gemma far away from here.

Garzolo might be off the chess board for the next few hours while he deals with his arrest, but by evening time, someone’s bound to come looking for Gemma. And if they don’t find her by tomorrow morning, it’ll be all hands on deck.

We have to be somewhere far away before that happens. Garzolo and Messero have too much reach in New York, maybe even in the entire country, so we need to get off their turf.

If we manage to get to Europe, I have connections I can use, but I’ll have to be careful not to go to anyone who’ll go straight to Dem. I can’t risk him finding out where we are, not after he made his position on Gemma clear.

A heavy weight presses on my shoulders as I think about him. Cazzo. I had to do what I did, but the guilt is already creeping in.