Page 95 of Masked Don

“Matthew starting school.” The words tumble out of me, and I’m not even quite sure what they mean at first. “A real one, one with other kids. No one watching the gates. No bodyguards, no need for them. Normal school.”

He’s confused at first, then smiles. “Teaching him to fish off the dock here, letting him get dirty, watching him pull a wriggling bass out of the lake for the first time. Letting him be loud and wild. A birthday party with all of his friends.”

“And no metal detector,” I add with a smile of my own.

“Naturally.”

I pause, the conversation affecting me more than I’d expected. “You being there. Not protecting us from a distance but actually being there as a dad. Teaching him to ride a bike or throw a baseball or shave and all the things dads do.”

“Shaving’s a while off, I think.”

I laugh, playfully swatting his chest. Then he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close, his expression serious.

“You, with a life that’s yours, a name that’s yours. Work you choose out of want and not necessity.” He leans and kisses me. “No running, not anymore. Matthew grows up soft in all the right ways, never has to learn what his last name used to mean. Never has to think the answer to anything is violence.”

The words land between us like something fragile. They are. They’re precious and perfect and, for now, only a fantasy. I want them to be true more than anything.

“Just for tonight,” he says, “we get to want it all out loud.”

I kiss him. “Just for tonight.”

I close my eyes and let myself believe it. I press another kiss to the edge of his bandage, right over his heart. “Come back to us. That’s all I’m asking. Please.”

His hand stills in my hair. For a long moment, neither of us moves. There’s peace, for now, but we both know it’s temporary, a brief respite before whatever horror comes next.

For tonight, in this small room, with our son sleeping safely down the hall, we enjoy it.

I wake to early light and a small, warm body wedged against my side. Enzo must have unlocked the door on his way out, because Matthew padded in before dawn, his rabbit tucked under one arm.

Enzo’s side of the bed is cold. There’s a note on the nightstand in the slashing black hand I know from a hundred documents.

Stevie,

Gone to end it. I’ll be back up this road before you’ve even had time to miss me. And I’ll come back clean, the way I promised. Give Matthew a kiss for me, tell him his dad loves him. Keep yourself safe and calm. I’d walk through hell to see you two again. Before this is all over, I just might have to.

E

Down the hall, Pyke is at the stove working a pan of eggs, a dish towel over one arm and a gun on the counter, pushed far back where little hands can’t reach it. He’s a dad. He thinks about those things.

Pyke glances over his shoulder and nods. “Morning.”

“He get off all right?”

“Yep. Headed out a little before five.”

He jerks his chin at the window. “Danny’s got the truck at the bottom of the road, and the Kowalski brothers are walking the tree line in shifts. Nobody comes up that road without me knowing. Radio check every hour on the hour. Miss one, and I call the boss. Back of the property’s the lake, two miles of water and nothing on the far shore but state forest.”

“Don’t worry, I made him eat something first. No sense going to war on an empty stomach.” He sets a plate in front of me. “He’ll be fine. This is what he’s good at.”

“You’ve got three, right?” I ask. “Kids?”

He nods, and his face goes soft. “Girl’s twelve. Thinks I’m a total jerk. Then two boys, seven and four. Like yours.”

From the bedroom, a sleepy voice calls for me, asking if there are eggs, and Pyke is already cracking two more.

CHAPTER 36

ENZO