Page 70 of Perfect Vengeance

“My name isn’t really Gina Perot,” she continued. “It’s Angelina Perotti. I had my name legally changed after my mother died. The media did such a bang-up job of plastering my father’s murder in the newspapers and on TV, I couldn’t go anywhere without people talking about me behind my back. I went away to college and, before coming back to New York City, I changed my name, so I could start fresh.”

“Wow,” Anna said. “Virtually, a blank slate.”

Not quite. No matter how much she wished it, changing her name could never change the past.

She clasped her hands tightly to keep them from shaking. “Do you remember when we all met at that fundraiser a couple of years ago?” They nodded. “We overheard Linda Hernandez saying they hadn’t taken in as much money that night as she’d hoped for. One of you brought up that news story about oodles of cash the FBI had just seized from some mobsters after a big raid in Chicago.”

“And,” Margo interjected, “how that money would probably go to waste in some government bank account when it could be spent on something far more worthy.”

“Like the shelter,” Kinsey piped in, although her eyes were slowly closing.

“There’s more.” Gina uttered a bitter laugh. “Two nights after that fundraiser, we were drinking martinis at my place while watching Robin Hood when I jokingly said we should steal that money from the mob and give it away. Like Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave to the poor.”

Gina swallowed the bitter tang in her mouth, sorely regretting the sequence of events her personal vendetta had set in motion. “I wasn’t lying when I said I used to work for a locksmith, and that’s where I picked up lock picking and safecracking skills. The man I worked for actually was a safecracker who did time in prison for breaking and entering.”

“Oh,” Anna said, her eyes widening.

“Yeah. Oh.” Gina nodded. “Knowing I had those skills, I concocted this crazy plan to steal from the Falzones. I convinced myself I was doing it to help battered women, but it was also for revenge. And I nearly got Kinsey killed because of it. I should have told you sooner, but I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Kinsey asked in a sleepy voice.

“Afraid you’d think less of me.” For her motives and for the Mafia blood running through her veins. She still hadn’t told them all of it. The last bit would be the hardest.

“But it wasn’t all for revenge.” Margo touched her shoulder. “You were donating to the Center long before we started stealing. You sold thousands of dollars of your own personal belongings to help those women.”

“Please, let me finish.” She hung her head. “After my parents died, I had no family. When I met all of you and we became friends, you became my family. I was afraid this scheme we’ve been running was the glue that held us together, and that if we weren’t doing it anymore...” I’d lose you. She couldn’t say the words, but they hung there in the air just as surely as if she’d spoken them out loud.

“You could never lose us.” Kinsey held out her arms to Gina. “Come here. I love you, I forgive you, and I want to hug you. But if I get up, I’m afraid my intestines will fall out of the hole in my belly.”

Gina’s mouth fell open. Disbelief nearly took her to her to the floor. As she leaned in to gently hug Kinsey back her heart was so full of joy she thought it would burst. How could Kinsey—a woman she’d nearly gotten killed—possibly be magnanimous and forgiving enough to say I love you?

Margo and Anna joined in, hugging Gina from behind.

“We all love you,” Anna whispered in a trembling voice.

“And you’re right,” Margo said. “We are your family, and you’re ours.”

They remained that way for another long minute, none of them speaking, just holding one another. Gina’s throat constricted so tightly she couldn’t speak the words she so desperately wanted to say. Needed to say. That she hadn’t felt this loved since her parents died. “I’m so lucky to have you,” she managed to whisper.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Gina straightened and turned to the door. Jack. Her heart was torn between beating faster because his nearness always did that to her and galloping away from sheer terror. This was it. He was here to arrest them.

In his good hand he held a decorative jar brimming with flowers. Handcuffs she expected. Not flowers. Stupidly, she stared at the pretty yellow daisies and carnations.

He set them on the rolling metal table next to the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked Kinsey.

“Like I just got plugged.” She winked at Anna, who giggled. “Thanks for the flowers. They should go great with our orange jumpsuits.”

The mood in the room instantly went as somber as a funeral. Theirs.

“Are you going to arrest us?” Gina held her breath.

“No. I can’t. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”

Gina’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

At first, he didn’t answer, dragging out her misery. “If I arrest you, there’ll be no keeping it quiet. Tino would put a price on your heads, and you wouldn’t last a month. In or out of prison. You said he didn’t see your face, so he doesn’t know who any of you are. Let’s keep it that way.”