69

Joey
“I’ll see your C note and raise you by another.” I toss two hundred dollar bills onto the table. My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen. My mom. Great.
I excuse myself from the table and enter my office, which adjoins the room.
“Hi, Ma.”
“Joey, I just got off the phone with Sophie.”
“You did?”
“Yes. You have to stop calling her and showing up where she works. She doesn’t want to see you anymore.”
My body goes hot, and I can’t splutter a reply.
She goes on, “I talked to her at Angela’s shower. I knew she’d never be happy with la famiglia. I told her she’d just make your life miserable, just like her mother did to her father. I told her I don’t want that for my son.”
“Fuck!” I throw the phone across the room, and it shatters when it collides with the wall. I toss my desk chair onto its side, just as Al opens the door.
My brother shows no surprise, just looks coolly at the wreckage, his eyes settling on the phone. “Who was that?”
“Our mother,” I say through clenched teeth.
Al’s eyebrow shoot up. “Oh yeah? What happened?”
“She pushed Sophie into breaking up with me.”
“No shit?” Al sounds surprised. “Yeah, she never liked Nancy. I guess she didn’t fit well with the Family, you know? Always made a fuss.”
I look at my brother, suddenly certain if I don’t speak my mind I will break in half. “I want out,” I spit. “I don’t wanna be your underboss, or your consigliere. I don’t even want to run this club anymore. I just want to be your CPA-the guy who makes it all come out clean. Can I just be that guy?”
Shocked disgust registers on Al’s face, but before he can speak, a deafening boom comes from the lounge, and the wall flies out and hits us.
Sophie
I send my Aunt Marie’s call to voicemail. I can’t face talking to her. I don’t even know what I’d say about Joey. About why I broke things off. About me leaving town.
Actually…Marie could present a big problem. Hiding a child from my own aunt is harder than just moving out of town.
She calls again as soon as I decline the call. Then a third time.
Fine. I’ll pick up.
“Sophie, did you hear?”
I tense, my heart picking up speed at the sound of emergency I can hear in my Aunt Marie’s voice. “What?” I brace myself.
“A bomb went off at Swank. You know, it’s poker night. A lot of our guys were there. No one knows who’s alive or dead.”
“Tony?”
“No, he wasn’t there, thank God. But Al and Joey both were.”
No. Please God, no.
I run for my shoes and purse, even as my vision momentarily goes black, and I see stars. Waiting for them to clear, I bark, “Is anyone alive? Were they taken to a hospital?”
“The ones who lived were taken to St. Michael’s.”
“Oh God,” I feel light-headed and sick. “Is Joey…?” I croak, afraid to even ask.
“I don’t know, honey.”
Okay. At least not knowing is better than hearing he’s dead.
“I’m heading over. Thanks for calling.”
I drive without seeing, saying prayers and hail Marys the whole way.
Please be alive. Please be alive.
For the baby. Our baby.
Oh God! Had I really planned on keeping this baby from their father? Never letting them know this wonderful, incredible man who had already given me so much in just a few short months?
Was I insane? How cruel and wrong of me. Now our baby may never meet their father, and I feel like I’m going to die.
Whatever our problemsmy beef with the Family. My unresolved resentments. I need to put them aside. My relationship with Joey should’ve been my number one priority. My family.
Not his. That stuff could’ve been worked out. It’s easy to see that now. He was already willing to bend for me. He was already close to the same page as me. He wanted to step back. To not be the underboss. The heir apparent.
Why did I have to make a unilateral decision that only made us both miserable?
I’ve been an idiot, and now it may be too late.
Joey may have died in that explosion without me telling him that I love him. Without knowing he left behind an unborn child.
And if he’s not dead…if he’s not dead, then I have to be all in.
Joey deserves that much from me. He deserves everything from me. I’ve been letting him try to power this relationship all on his own, with no help from me. Only resistance.
I’ve been wrong. So wrong.
I somehow arrive in the hospital parking lot unscathed. I race into the emergency room entrance, scanning for familiar faces. I see Carlo coming out of the ER with a bandage taped to his forehead and Summer running to embrace him.
I spot Donna Teresa. The slender woman looks fragile now, her shoulders bent with worry. My ill will toward her dissolves as I rush over. “Joey?” I ask in a choked voice.
Somehow we end up hugging, arms tangled up in an awkward but heartfelt embrace.
“I don’t know, Sophie. Both my sons are in there,” she chokes. “We are waiting.”
“Okay,” I bob my head, forcing down my sobs. “Okay. We’ll wait together.” I take her hand and sit down in the chair with her, my knee bouncing up and down with anxiety.
I feel like I’m going to hurl. The morning sickness on top of the emotional upheaval is just too much to take.
I start talking. I need to get the words out because keeping all this in is too much for the baby. Too much for my body.
“I’m pregnant with Joey’s child,” I sniff. I ignore her intake of breath. The shocked stare. Tears start rolling down my face. “And I broke up with him because you made me feel like we couldn’t make it work.”
“Sophie…”
“Wait.” I hold up my hand. “I just need to get this out.”
She closes her mouth and nods.
“I love Joey. And I may have reservations about the Family, I may have some scars from my childhood, but none of that matters. What matters is what’s between the two of us. So if you have reservations about me, I want you to know you can let them go. I’m going to show up for Joey. I’m not going to put him between a rock and a hard place or make him choose or make his life miserable because of La Cosa.” I shake my head. “I’m not. Joey is way more important to me than recreating my past.”
“Soph?”
I whip my head around at the sound of Joey’s voice.
Oh God. There he is-alive. He has a large purple bruise on his forehead and some kind of bandage peeking beneath his collar.
I scramble out of my chair and launch myself straight at him, just barely remembering to put the brakes on before I fling myself in his arms, since I’m not sure the extent of his injuries.
“Come here, baby.” He wraps me up in his strong embrace.
“Joey! Thank God. Oh Jesus, I thought you were dead.” Tears of relief spill down my cheeks.
“No, just bruised ribs, but Al, Carlo, and Bobby are still in there. Vito and Mario are dead.” He releases me to hug his mom. “Hi, Ma. I’m okay.” He sounds tired.
“Al?”
Joey shakes his head. “He’s alive, that’s all I know. They’re still evaluating.”
“Okay. Okay. You two talk. Sounds like you have some things to discuss.” To me, she mouths, “Congratulations.”
Of course, Joey sees it and turns a quizzical look back on me.
“Joey, I’m sorry. I made a huge mistake. I got scared, and I pushed you away.”
“It’s okay, baby. The miscarriage sent your hormones haywire, and”
“I’m still pregnant,” I interrupt.
Joey goes still.
“I’m still pregnant. I lied about the miscarriage because I was freaking out about marrying you. I’m so sorry.” I hold my breath, hoping he won’t be angry. Hoping he can forgive me.
“You’re still pregnant,” he repeats with no inflection in his tone whatsoever. Nothing to tell me what he’s thinking. “You’re still pregnant!”
I laugh because this time I hear his joy.
“Aw, baby.” His eyes mist as he lifts me into a fierce embrace, then winces and sets me down.
“Oh, Joey.” My heart tumbles in my chest over his pain. I put my hands on his ribs, sending energy through my palms.
He cradles my face in both hands. “Sophie. Bella. I love you. You showing up here…” He blinks the moisture back from his eyes. “I’m glad,” he chokes. “I’m so glad.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
I pull away to look at him. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
Someone clears his throat nearby. “Mr. LaTorre? You have anything else to add to your story?” A police detective stands there with a notebook and pen.
Joey shoots a hard glance his way. “No.”
“I got one more question for you. Tell me, if Vito’s dead and your brother and Carlo don’t make it, what does that make you? The new boss?”
My heart freezes. Is Joey the new boss? Wow. For one chaotic moment, I question whether I should reverse my decision again and run. But my heart has already chosen. It wants Joey. There’s no going back now.
Joey’s face is made of stone, his eyes dark as obsidian. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Detective.”
The detective frowns. “Yeah, I’ll bet. And I probably won’t hear about a pile of bodies turning up over in Little Italy tomorrow, right?”
“If you do” Joey stares into the detective’s face with a direct challenge “I won’t know anything about it.”
Cold prickles make the hairs on my arms stand up, though some other part of me triumphs at the formidable way my man takes care of business.
“Uh huh,” the detective says sarcastically and moves away.
I look up into Joey’s face, but I know better than to ask about business. Like what happened. Or whether he’s boss. If he’s ordered a hit on anyone over it.
Strain shows on his face. His gaze lifts to see Carmen, Summer, and Carlo coming from the interior of the emergency room. Joey’s mother jumps up from where she was sitting nearby.
“His skull is fractured, and there’s swelling of the brain. He’s in a coma now.” Carmen’s voice breaks with the word “coma.”
Joey opens his arms and draws his sister-in-law against his broad chest. Carmen falls apart, choking on a sob. Helpless, I turn to Donna Teresa to offer her an embrace.
“They’re doing a brain scan. I’m going to stay and wait for the results.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Joey says immediately.
“Me too,” I declare. I’m a part of this family now. I chose sides. I’m team Joey, which means la famiglia. La Cosa Nostra. Everything it is. Do I still have reservations? Yes, definitely.
But after almost losing Joey, I know sticking it out will be worth it.
When Summer says she’s staying, Carlo positions himself in the seat beside her, draping an arm around the back of her chair protectively. The rest of us take seats in the waiting room, where the drone of CNN on the television has turned the occupants into zombies.
Joey wraps an arm around my shoulders, his fingers idly stroking my hair. It feels so natural, as if we’re a long-married couple handling a family tragedy together. Even though he was a victim of this tragedy, he radiates strength, power, and calm leadership. If this were my emergency to face, rather than his, I’d want Joey LaTorre beside me.
“Thank you for coming, Soph,” Joey murmurs. “I heard what you said to my mom.” He cradles the side of my face. “I’m so lucky. I love you so much, bella.”
“I love you, too.” I lower my head to his shoulder, finding a nook to nestle it in a signal of solidarity.
I wake a half hour later to the sound of Joey’s gentle voice. “Sophie. I want you to go home, angel.”
“No. I’m staying here with you.” I glance at Carmen and his mother, who dozes slumped in her chair. Summer’s knees are drawn up to her chest, and Carlo rests his forearms on his knees. “All of you.”
“I appreciate that, but you need your rest, and there’s nothing you can do here tonight.”
I open my mouth, but he touches my lips with his finger.
“Take one thing off my mind, bella. I need to know you’re resting and eating and safe. Okay?”
I nod. “Okay. Of course.” I stand and let him walk me out to the parking lot.
He kisses me.
“Sleep at my place?” I ask, hating to be apart from him again so soon after nearly losing him.
His smile is faint but warm. “Count on it.”
I reach inside my purse and pull out a key to my townhouse, pressing it into his palm. He pulls me against his strong chest and kisses the top of my head.