Chapter 16: Say It Again

The hand on the sill was large, with a scar across the knuckles.

I knew it before the head came over, and I did not lower the gun.

Gaspare climbed through the window in his shirtsleeves and stood up in the dark.

He looked at the pistol, and then at my face.

"Feet apart," he said. "Both hands. Good."

"You came over the roof."

"The man at the corner is still reading his newspaper."

"You said you'd give me until I wanted my father."

"I'm not here for your father."

"Then why?"

He didn't answer.

I lowered the pistol and set it on the table beside my ring.

My hands were not steady, and I wanted him to see that, so that he would know what it cost.

"You said goodbye to a box of sand," I said.

"Rosaria."

"We had terms. No promises, no goodbyes. I made them in your study, and you swore."

"I broke them."

"In front of the whole Family."

"I know."

"So say it again."

He went still.

"Say it to me," I said. "I'm standing here. I'm warm. Say goodbye to my face, Gaspare."

He crossed the room in three steps.

His hands closed on my arms, and he put his forehead against mine, and his breath shook.

"No."

"Say it."

"I will not."

"Then why did you say it to her?"

"Because I thought she was all I had left."

I hit him in the chest with my fist.

He took it.

I hit him again, and again, and on the third he caught my wrist and pulled it up against his heart.

It was going so hard I could feel it through the shirt.

"You buried me," I said.

"I buried a coffin."

"You let me hear you."

"I know."

"I hate you."

"Then hate me properly."

I kissed him.

It was nothing like the kiss in our bedroom.

It had teeth in it.

He backed me against the table, and the ring rolled off the edge and rang on the floor, and neither of us looked.

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