but then, a moment later, pokes her head around the doorframe, minus the veil. She gives me something akin to a supportive smile. “End this war with the Irish, and then end this war with Hazel. You know it’s the only way.”
I drop down at the desk, tracing the old lines in the wood, thinking that all of this really isn’t necessary. Durante, Nario, Emily, and now Mother telling me to forgive Hazel, reminding me that I love Hazel … they’re wasting their breath. I already know I love her. I just had to remember. Or forget, maybe. Forget just how white-hot angry I still am.
I drum my fingers along the table, feeling all the twitching muscles in my wounded arm. Soon, I will be charging into the worst gunfight of my life, far worse than when the Elephant attacked us that day. I’m not sure I can do that with how things stand between me and Hazel. But at the same time, there’s still that feeling of betrayal. It’s like I’m trying to grip the barrel of a gun that’s recently been fired and I keep getting burned. But I can’t snatch my hand away forever.
I shake my head, smiling grimly. Emily would have a few choice words to say about that analogy, I’m sure. Just thinking of Emily brings up images of her and Hazel together, Hazel listening—downright rapt—as Emily tells her about her latest plot, or reads a snippet from her novel. The look in Mother’s eyes, as though she’s found a second daughter. The way, when I’m holding Hazel, I can almost forget about the pain that her father caused.
I had this fire in me when Father and Angel were alive, a passion for life that flickered out when I watched them die. I never thought it could be reignited. I thought I’d always be cold. And then Hazel’s fire came into my life. At first, it was an ember. But it caught, flared, scorched through me unstoppably. I’m kidding myself if I think it’s gone out. I’m kidding myself if I think I can’t forgive her.
My hand lingers near my cell phone. I’m not sure if I can call her, though. Hazel’s voice might undo things in me that cannot be put back together ever again.
And her name is Hazel, I realize. She’ll never be Colleen Sweeney to me.
“She’s not going to call herself, bro,” Emily says from the doorway.
“Jesus,” I groan. “Is everyone in this house an armchair psychologist?”
“I think you mean a wheelchair psychologist.”
“Emily …”
She laughs. “Take it easy, Mr. Sensitive. I work in here sometimes. I forgot my notebook.”
“Why do you work in here?” I ask.
“I make it a habit to work in every room of the house. Y’know, like a dog marking its territory.”
“You’ve never said ‘y’know’ before.”
She tilts her head as she wheels to the corner of the room, picking up her notebook, laying it on her lap. “Um, so what?”
“Y’know.” Do I sound crazy? I suspect I might. “Hazel says that. You never used to say it. I thought—oof, never mind.”
“It must have just slipped in, y’know.” She winks. “No, it was totally by accident, but I’ll make sure to use it a lot from now on.”
“Great—”
My cell phone blares from the table. I look down: Ubert.
“Give me a moment.”
She rolls her eyes. “Like I want to listen to your boring work talk, anyway.”
I answer as I close the door behind Emily. “Yes?”
“B-boss.” Ubert’s voice is distant, fading. Fucking strangled. “Something—ah, shit—something bad …”
“Take a breath,” I say, dread creeping into my belly. But not my voice. I keep that calm. “Tell me what happened as succinctly as you can.”
He does. He tells me that the penthouse has been hit by the Irish, that he’s taken a shot to the belly, that Hazel was dragged down the elevator, that they were able to get up and down the elevator because they cut my men’s goddamn fingers off.
“I’m … I think I’m going, Carlo.” He sighs. “Boss, I meant boss.”
“Quiet, man,” I whisper, thinking of Cecilia, thinking of his child. Thinking of Hazel and all the things we’ll never get to do together. Thinking of my child. I’ve been a fucking idiot, I realize. I love her. I left her. I love her and I left her. What kind of man does that? “I’m sending help. Stop the bleeding as best you can.”
I can hear him smiling. “It’s too late, boss. Hazel …”