a test and made me take it. I was in shock, but he, well… he went to find you."
Matty knew the day she referred to. He'd riddled out the timeline, having not much else to do while on the road except dwell on what happened. It made sense, looking back. Something had set Dante off the night he showed up in Soho looking for a fight.
It was the night he'd taken Enzo's life.
It was meant to be me instead.
"I asked him why," Matty said. "Your brother, you know… he was who he was, but I never took him to be malicious. So I wanted to know why he'd come after us."
"What did he say?"
"He said I gave him no choice, that because of me you were as good as dead."
Genna took a bite and muttered, "He so overreacted."
"I don't know," Matty said. "I don't know if there's such a thing. He just… reacted."
She damn near dropped her pickle. "Did you just...? No, seriously, did you just defend him?"
Matty stared at her. Huh, guess I did. "I just think about your father and what he would've done. You being pregnant would've set him off, regardless. He coddled you; we all knew it. Nobody touched his little girl. Add in that it was me that did it, someone he already hated, and he would've lost his fucking mind."
"My father wouldn't have killed me."
"Maybe not, but he would've killed me, Genna, and there's no way he would've accepted this baby. It's impossible. The hate runs too deep. It's a part of you, yeah, but all he would see is the part that's me."
"He wouldn't hurt a baby," she said. "Children are innocent."
The moment she said that, her expression shifted, reality hitting her. Even she didn't believe her words. History had taught them that when it came to their fathers, innocence was irrelevant.
"I was innocent once," Matty said. "You were, too. So were Joey, and Dante, and even Enzo. None of us started out as monsters. I don't know that any of us even became them. But it didn't stop people from seeing us that way. So maybe your father would've kept you breathing, but breathing doesn't always mean living. Dante was right—you were as good as dead."
Genna tossed the rest of her pickle down on her plate before pushing it away. "Never in a million years did I think I would hear you defend a Galante."
"Don't get used to it," Matty said. "In fact, I'm wishing I could take it back."
"Whatever," she said, smiling. "It's burned in my brain. You'll never live it down. You're practically aligned with the enemy now."
"Practically? I was aligned with the enemy the moment I felt what it was like to be inside of you. There was no coming back from that."
"What did it feel like?"
"What?"
"Being inside of me."
Her voice was dead serious, but the twinkle in her eye told Matty she was teasing him.
"You really want me to describe it?"
"Yep."
He considered that. What did being inside of her feel like? Everything. It was Heaven. It was Hell. It was the most beautiful torture he'd ever felt. "Let me put it in words you'll understand."
"I'm listening."
"It's chocolate cake with strawberry icing, covered in chocolate sprinkles, eaten straight out of the pan."
Her eyes widened. "Damn."
"Anyway…" Matty motioned for the waitress to bring the check, even though neither of them had eaten much. "The night is young. What do you want to get into?"
"What are my options?"
"We could see a show, maybe. There are musicals and concerts—"
"And strippers," Genna chimed in. "Aren't those Chippendales guys in Vegas? You know, the dudes with the little G-string banana hammock looking thingies with the black bowties?"
Matty ignored that. "And magicians and comedians and who knows what else. There's gambling—"
"And prostitution."
"And nightclubs where we could go dancing, I guess, if we want to be around a bunch of drunk people when we're sober."
"I think that describes the entirety of Vegas, but go on."
"There are shooting ranges and roller coasters and racecar tracks—"
"And wedding chapels."
"And…" That stalled him. "And wedding chapels."
"They've even got those drive-thru ones," Genna said. "You could make an honest woman out of me without even getting out of the car."
Matty laughed. "What comes after that? Road-head for the honeymoon?"
"You wish," she said, balling up a napkin and smacking him square in the chest with it. "It'll be a cold day in Hell before I suck a dick in a stolen Honda."
The waitress approached, damn near tripping over her own feet when