Footsteps (39 page)

Carlo Sr. and Carmen came into the waiting
room. Luca let her arm go. “I’m gonna go see my baby brother, maybe
say goodbye. Please. Get him into that room if you can. If Joey
goes and Carlo doesn’t see him…fuck. Try for me, gorgeous.”

Sabina nodded. “I will try.” Luca kissed her
cheek and followed John through the doors.

Carmen had taken her father to the side and
was sitting with him. They were talking quietly; then Carmen looked
across the room at Carlo, and then at Sabina. She said nothing, and
she didn’t move, but Sabina could sense what was on her mind. She
could almost hear Carmen’s voice in her head:
Are you going to
him or not?

Was she? Were they right? Could she help
Carlo at all, or would she only hurt him more?

He was sitting alone on one side of the
waiting room, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, staring
down at the floor between his legs. He seemed the picture of
desolation. He was too alone—in this time full of family, coming
together as Carmen had said, his aloneness seemed all the more
bleak. And that made up Sabina’s mind for her. He was too alone.
She stood and crossed over to him.

When she sat down next to him, he didn’t
move or acknowledge her in any way.

“Carlo?”

Nothing. With her heart in a knot, she
reached out and laid her hand on his forearm. “Carlo. I am so
sorry. I know it’s not much to say, but I wish I had done
differently something.”

Then he spoke. His voice was low, barely
audible, but her focus on him was complete, and she heard him
clearly. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

She was a little relieved by that. Perhaps
his blame of her was over? “I’m fine, truly. I understand.”

“You shouldn’t be so fucking understanding.
You shouldn’t just forgive something like that. Stand up for
yourself.” He still hadn’t looked up.

His words cut, and Sabina almost pulled
away. Then she caught Carmen’s eye. She looked exhausted and sad,
but still she was focused on Carlo and Sabina, even as she held her
father’s hand, as if she were willing Sabina her own strength.

“I am standing up for myself. I’m standing
up for you.” A thought came over her, a certainty, perhaps riding
on the back of Carmen’s lent strength. “I did what I did because it
was the only thing that could save him. Now we have to find him. I
understand your anger, Carlo. But I am not to blame. I would have
died for him, but I would not see him killed in my arms. We have to
find him now, Carlo.”

At that, Carlo turned his head. His
expression was abject. “He’s gone. He’s gone. Bina, he’s gone.”

She heard his need; Carmen and Luca had been
right. She heard his need, and in it she found the full reservoir
of her strength. His fear and loss were naked before her, and she
came off her seat and went to her knees before him. She pushed her
way between his legs and lifted his head in her hands. “No, Carlo.
No. He’s away. We’ll get him back. Uncle Ben will get him
back.”

Finally, he met her eyes. “It’s not your
fault. It’s mine. I should have known.”

“How could you have? Who could imagine this?
Carlo, is there anything to be gained like this? Finding blame? Is
it help?” He dropped his eyes, and she lifted his chin, as he had
done to her many times, and made him look at her. “There is blame,
but we need not go looking. There is blame one place only. Yes? On
her only. Now, the police are searching. And I think your uncles
are searching, too, yes? You will have Trey back.”

Ice seemed to cover his eyes, and something
about his face altered subtly. His expression went from despairing
to intent. “I’m going to kill her. If I have the chance, I’m going
to kill her.”

Sabina was hardly shocked by the statement,
and she believed it to be true. She hoped it would not come to
that. She hoped that someone else, not Carlo, would take care of
Jenny. She wanted her dead, too. Remembering the look in her eyes,
remembering Trey’s fear, remembering the sight and
smell
of
the gun that had shot and possibly killed Joey pushed up against
Trey’s little head, mussing his blond hair, Sabina had no qualms at
the thought that the woman who’d done all that would very likely
die, no matter how she was treating Trey now. But she didn’t want
it to be Carlo who did it. She thought he wouldn’t be able to carry
such weight well. She tried to redirect him.

“Carlo. Do you know about Joey?”

“He’s gone, too?”

“No. But he’s not good. They are unsure if
he will stay. The doctors say that family should go back soon to
see him. Do you want to go back?”

“To say goodbye.”

“I think yes.”

“I did that, too. Put my dumbass baby
brother in that position. I knew better.”

“Carlo, enough. Enough. You are like Atlas,
carrying the world on your shoulders. You aren’t responsible for
everyone. Joey is no child.”

“Isn’t he?”

“No. He understands, I think, more of the
world than his family credits him.” She sighed, feeling impatient.
“But that is for another time. I think you’ll regret if you don’t
go back.”

“Are you staying, even after I—”

She cut him off, no more willing to hear his
guilt than his brother and sister had been willing to hear hers.
“Of course. I say I understand. I love Trey. I love Joey. I love
your whole family. Your world is becoming my world. And I love you
beyond reason. So I stay. Maybe if you try to make me go, even then
I stay.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Finally, he sat
up, and he took her hands in his. “I love you, Bina. Will you come
back with me?”

“If that’s what you want, yes.” It made her
feel anxious, the thought of going back to see Joey in the state he
must be in. But she would stay at Carlo’s side as long as he wanted
her there. She stood, still holding his hands, and he stood with
her. Then he laced the fingers of one hand with hers, and they
headed toward the doors through which they would find his youngest
brother.

Luca and John had come back into the waiting
room and were sitting with their father and sister. As Carlo and
Sabina stood, Luca gave her a little, approving smile. On his sad
face, the effect was especially poignant.

Uncle Ben stepped into their path before
they had gone more than a few steps. “Junior.”

Carlo’s fingers tightened around Sabina’s.
“Uncle.”

“When you come back, we need to speak.”

“Yes, sir. We do.”

Uncle Ben put his hand on Carlo’s shoulder
and gave it a reassuring shake. “Our reach is far, nephew. Farther
than she can go.”

Carlo nodded but said nothing. Then Uncle
Ben stepped to the side, and Carlo and Bina continued on toward the
doors.

A nurse was waiting just inside the doors;
she led them past a large room full of gurneys to a small private
room, where Joey lay, buried under a thick padding of blankets,
with tubes and wires connecting him to several machines. The room
was dense with the myriad sounds of the machines—pumps and grinds
and beeps. The beep of the heart monitor seemed too fast. Sabina
was surprised—she’d expected his heart to be beating too slowly, if
he was so close to death.

“God.” Carlo stopped just in the doorway,
blocking the nurse from closing the door. She stepped out and left
it open.

Sabina held his hand in both of hers and
squeezed. “He is strong, yes?”

Carlo nodded. Then he pulled his hand from
hers and stepped to the gurney. Sabina stayed where she was,
knowing instinctively that, though Carlo wanted her here with him,
he would not want her to join him at Joey’s side now.

For whole minutes, Carlo stood silently at
the gurney and looked down on his brother. Sabina stayed where she
was by the door, thinking little, feeling much—sorrow and
compassion. Worry and fear. Love. So much love. Her heart filled
and stretched with love. Even in this moment, her life now was so
much better than her life before, because of this love.

“God, Joe,” Carlo’s voice was a hoarse
rumble. “God. What were you thinking? You never think. You always
just expect everything to be okay. Well, it’s not. Things are never
okay. And there’s not always going to be somebody around to make it
okay. You gotta learn that, Joey. Until you learn that, you’re
never going to get by on your own. We can’t bail you out of this
one.” His voice cracked, and Sabina almost went to him. But he
cleared his throat and went on. “I’m not saying goodbye. Fuck that.
Pull your ass up, kid. Fight for yourself. No one can make this
better but you. Stand up for yourself.”

Then he reached back, his hand spread toward
Sabina. Understanding the gesture, she stepped forward, took his
offered hand, and let him pull her to his side. She kissed his
shoulder and leaned her head there.

“He is strong, Carlo.”

“Yeah. I’ve been so pissed at him. I’ve been
treating him like shit for weeks because he got me tangled up with
the Uncles. But it’s my fault. I’ve always bailed him out of
everything. We all have. Maybe if we made him fight his own fights,
he’d have known better what to do today.”

“What could he have done?”

“Had a gun with him. Realized faster that an
unfamiliar car on Carmen’s road is trouble. I don’t know.
Something. I can’t believe Jenny managed all this chaos. Half the
time, she could barely manage a trip to the market.”

“This is why we’ll find Trey. Yes? Because
she’s under the water?”

He turned and gave her a quizzical look, and
she wondered if she had said something wrong, but then his
expression changed, reforming into despair again. “Or it’s why he’s
already dead. Because she’s in over her head and terrified.”

“To think that way is to give up, Carlo.
It’s too soon to give up.”

He nodded without seeming persuaded. “Yeah.
Okay, I need to talk to Uncle Ben.” He bent down and kissed his
brother’s forehead. “Fight, you shithead. Fight your fight.”

When they went back out into the waiting
room, Carlo released Bina’s hand and went to Uncle Ben and Uncle
Lorrie. They’d been sitting in a group with everyone—his siblings
and father, their wives—and they’d both stood as he’d come into the
room.

He released her hand, but she didn’t leave
his side right away. She was with him. Despite the way he’d let his
fear and rage unspool and lash out at her, despite the fact that he
knew he’d hurt her, she was still with him, at his side. Though
smiles were hard to find, he found one now for her. “It’s okay. I
need to talk to them alone.”

She nodded and tipped her chin up. She
wanted a kiss. He gave her one, and she crossed the room to
his—their—family. As she passed Uncle Ben, the old man gave her arm
an affectionate squeeze.

Uncle Ben took Carlo’s elbow and led him to
a quiet corner of the room. One of their soldiers stood nearby;
with a look, Uncle Lorrie sent him out of earshot.

“Sit, Junior.” Uncle Ben pushed Carlo to sit
before he himself did. “We need to talk about what the law knows,
and what they tell you they’re doing. And we need to talk about how
we’re proceeding and what part you wish to play.”

“Law doesn’t know anything, far as they told
me. They have somebody watching her apartment in New York. That’s
it. Do you have news? Do you know anything?”

“No. Not yet. But we will find her. A woman
who holds a gun to her own child’s head has few friends. And many
enemies. She will have nowhere to turn soon enough.”

“That’s not reassuring, Uncle. If she
panics, if she thinks she can’t get away…” He couldn’t say it. It
was all he could think about, what Jenny would do to Trey if she
felt cornered, but he couldn’t say the words out loud, not to his
Uncles. With every second that crawled by without his son, though,
Carlo was more sure that he had seen him for the last time. “I
can’t believe we’re all just
sitting
here!”

“We’re not, Junior.” Uncle Lorrie’s voice
was dark and gruff. “This is our top job right now. Finding your
boy. We’ve got everybody on it.”

“Is this another debt I’ll owe?” He didn’t
care if it was—he’d do anything to get Trey back. Anything. But he
shouldn’t have asked; the words had come out anyway.

Uncle Ben’s only reaction was a narrowing of
his eyes. “You insult us, nephew.”

“Sorry. I just…sorry. Thank you. I’m
grateful.”

Uncle Ben regarded him stiffly for a moment,
then nodded. “It’s true that your affairs and ours are recently
intersecting more than they have in the past. Your life is
complicated these days, it seems.”

Carlo snorted bitterly. “Yeah.”

“Auberon left a vacancy in our world that
has made things interesting for business. No matter for you—that
became a family matter when I made it family. But this is family
from the start, Junior. This isn’t business, unless you make it so.
I think what you might owe will depend on what part you play
next.”

To Carlo, it seemed like his uncle was
talking in riddles, and he didn’t have time or patience for it.
“What do you mean?”