By Any Other Name (13 page)

Grabbing the tray, he started to walk away when the sound of her voice stalled his footsteps.

"Matty?"

Turning, he raised his eyebrows questioningly.

She stared at him for a moment, frowning, as she let her hair loose from beneath her ball cap and ran her fingers through the wavy strands. "It's not, uh… it's not because my hair looks stringy like snakes, right? Because I promise it's usually better than this."

He burst into laughter, shaking his head.
This damn girl
… "You're beautiful, Genna. The prettiest little car thief I've ever seen."

Matty stepped out of the community center, keeping his head down and walking swiftly up the block and around the corner, to where he'd parked the Lotus in a dark alley. Pulling out his keys, he pressed the button to unlock the car doors and hit the remote start, the engine roaring to life down the block. His phone buzzed in his pocket—his personal line, not the Blackberry, which was locked in the car's glove box. It had been vibrating constantly for the past few minutes, but he hadn't wanted anything to interrupt his conversation with Genna. Opening his car door, he slipped inside, out of sight, as he pulled his phone out.

Enzo.

"Yeah?" he said, answering it as he shifted the car into gear, wanting to get out of East Harlem. Lingering could easily get him killed. He had come tonight without confirmation that the Galantes were busy. For all he knew, they could be watching him.

"Jesus, Matty," Enzo said, voice frantic. "Where the hell are you?"

"Near Central Park." Close enough, anyway. "Why? What's up?"

"It's Ma," he said. "She's been taken to the hospital."

Coldness washed through him as he gripped the gearshift tightly. "Which one?"

"NewYork-Presbyterian."

She'd had a seizure, he said. They found her unresponsive. Matty drove straight up north to Presbyterian, meeting his family in the waiting room twenty minutes later. They didn't question where he'd been or why it took him so long to answer his phone, and for that he was grateful.

He had no idea what he'd say if they did.

They ran some tests and decided to keep her for observation. Life didn't stop for Enzo and his father, who were in and out constantly, but Matty didn't leave her side for two days. He could do his part anywhere. When they kicked him out of her room, he took up residence in the hospital lobby, eating food from the cafeteria that rivaled the crap Genna made and fielding phone calls for bets out of The Place.

It was Thursday night, well past visiting hours, when he lounged in the small uncomfortable chair, the muted television giving him enough light to sort through the figures in his notebook. His mother was sleeping soundly, her soft snores filling the quiet air, the sound nearly lulling Matty to sleep along with her.

He felt like he hadn't slept in forever.

The door opened and he glanced across the room, expecting it to be a nurse coming to eject him, but was surprised to meet his father's gaze. He hadn't been around since earlier that morning.

Roberto quietly approached, smoothing Matty's mother's hair and gazing down at her as he spoke softly, although his words were clearly meant for Matty. "I'm surprised you're still here."

"I'm not leaving her if I can help it."

"I didn't mean at the hospital."

"I knew what you meant."

He was surprised Matty was still in New York.

Slowly, his gaze shifted to Matty, expression stern. "I take it you haven't changed your mind about my offer?"

Matty shook my head. "That other stuff's not for me."

He'd agreed to take on the books, but that was as far as he went in the family business. If he had to be involved, if he had to lend a hand, he'd stick with staying behind the scenes. He wanted nothing to do with the violence and hatred, nothing to do with the rivalry.

"You're wrong, Matteo. It's
all
for you. I built this entire empire for you, and it saddens me that you want very little to do with it."

"Saddens?" he asked. "Or maddens?"

"Both," his father admitted. "You're my oldest, and it upsets me to see you snub the family legacy."

Hell of a legacy, Matty thought, but he said nothing. It would only cause a fight—a fight they needn't have
there
, of all places. Roberto seemed to realize that also, his gaze turning from Matty back to the hospital bed.

"Go on home, Matteo. She's being released in the morning. There's nothing more you can do here."

He hadn't wanted to leave, but he knew his father wouldn't take a refusal lightly. Roberto was used to people following his every word, which was what caused the rift between them in the first place. Matty wasn't very good about being submissive.

Glancing at his watch, he saw it was nearing seven o'clock. "Yeah, you're right."

He started to leave, striding past his father, when the man reached out and grabbed his arm, stalling him. "I know you don't want to get involved, but certain things are unavoidable. You're a Barsanti, and unless you find a way to stop being one, there will forever be a target on your back after what's happened. So be careful, you know. Stay where we can protect you."

The message was loud and clear: stay out of Galante territory. Matty nodded, acknowledging those words, but he didn't heed them.

As soon as he was in his car, he drove straight to East Harlem.

It was a few minutes past seven when he made it to that side of town. He approached the community center and was about to swing the car into a parking spot along the curb when he caught sight of Dante lurking out front.

Cursing, he sped right past, hoping like hell the Galante boy hadn't noticed him.

Genna had a crappy day at home, followed by a crappy night at the community center, topped off with the crappiest of crappy: her babysitter-slash-bodyguard was waiting for her outside when her shift was over.

That never boded well.

Dante stood along the curb, hands shoved in his pockets, his brow furrowed as he stared down the street. Slowly, Genna approached, grabbing his arm and proceeding to startle the fuck out of him. He jumped, immediately glaring at her. "Dammit, Genna, you scared me!"

"Sorry," she said, glancing past him. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing, I just thought I saw..." He paused as he eyed her peculiarly. "You haven't seen any Barsantis lurking around here, have you?"

Her eyes widened.
Oh, shit
. "Of course not."

"I must've been seeing things," he said. "It almost looked like that car from Little Italy, but even they're not that stupid, right?"

"Right." Too bad they
were
. Stupid, stupid boy. He hadn't shown up at all in days. She had shrugged it off, scoffing, telling herself it was for the best, that she shouldn't be surprised since he was one of them… they were flakey, and she shouldn't want him anywhere near her. But yet… she'd missed him. She'd found herself waiting for him, watching the door, disappointed when her shift was over and he was nowhere to be found. She'd even worried.
God, what the hell's wrong with me, stressing about one of them
? "Had to have been someone else. It wouldn't be them. Not here."

"Yeah," he agreed. "You'll tell me if you see any of them, right?"

"Of course," she said, frowning. She hated lying to Dante. He was her person, but he wouldn't understand this. How could he? She scarcely did. "We should go before we're late for dinner."

"Ah, yeah, that's why I'm here," he said. "Dad needed to leave town for a few days, so it's just you and me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I have plans this weekend, but I thought you and I could do something tonight."

"Aw, you get a bit of freedom and there's nobody else you'd rather spend it with?"

"Of course there is," he said, "but you'll do, anyway."

She rolled her eyes, nudging him as she strode to the passenger side of his car while he climbed behind the wheel.

"So where do you want to go?"

"Doesn't matter to me," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Genna, with no opinion? I'm starting to like the new you."

She laughed as he started up the car and swung out into traffic, speeding down the busy street. "I'm still the same me."

"No, you're not," he said. "Come on, the Genna I grew up with would've flounced community service by now and forced Dad's hand to pay off whoever he needed to pay off to get her out of the mess. You've been
way
too accepting of this all."

"It's not so bad," she said, shrugging. "I mean, it's not easy, but it's not like I'm doing manual labor. I'm just cooking."

"And how's that working out?"

"Terrible. Apparently, I'm a crappy cook."

"Doesn't surprise me a bit," Dante said, casting her a playful smile. "I always said you'd make a good
trophy
wife."

They went to dinner at a steakhouse in the Upper Eastside. Genna took off the ball cap and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to make herself half-assed presentable before joining her brother inside the restaurant. He was at ease, lounged back in the booth, sipping from a glass of complimentary wine. As soon as Genna slid in across from him, the waiter turned to her. "Wine, miss?"

She was about to say an emphatic "hell yeah!" when her brother cleared his throat, waving the waiter away. "She's only eighteen, man."

Genna glared at Dante as the waiter strode away, taking her alcohol along with him. "That's foul."

"You're my little sister," he said. "It's my job to look after you."

Rolling her eyes, she drank the glass of ice water, waiting for the waiter to return. She ordered a steak and baked potato, and flirted her ass off, trying to convince the man to bring the wine back to no avail. Dante watched her with amusement, steadily drinking his own alcohol, rubbing it in.

"So tell me," he said eventually. "How's your guy?"

She tensed, fork mid-air, as her gaze darted across the table at her brother. "What guy?"

"Mr. Eyes on Fire," he said. "What happened with that?"

"I, uh… nothing," she muttered. "Nothing happened."

"Dad said his name was Matthew or something? Matt… he called him Matty."

She blinked a few times, avoiding his gaze.
Not good
. "Err, yeah. It was, uh… it wasn't what I thought it was."

"Pity," he said. "But you know, if you want me to hook you up with Umberto—"

"Oh my God," she said loudly, cutting him off. "If you even try, Dante, I swear, I will make your life a living hell."

"Come on, why not?"

"I'll go back to Jackson before I even entertain the idea of dating Umberto."

"What's wrong with Umberto?"

Before she could come back with a response and ask him what was
right
with Umberto, Dante's phone rang. Casually, he pulled it out and glanced at the screen, casting her a contemplative look before answering it. "What's up, Dad?"

Dante listened to their father quietly for a moment, eyes squarely on her. Genna stuck her tongue out at him when the waiter returned, once again filling his wine glass.
Jerk
. He stifled a laugh, his expression straightening out as he focused back on the call. "We're planning to move in this weekend… I don't think we'll get much resistance, you know, since it's Little Italy… yeah, Umberto's in on it with me, no big. We got it under control."

Dante picked up his glass of wine, teasingly taking a sip and theatrically rolling his eyes back in his head like it was the greatest thing he'd ever tasted. Genna flung some of her potatoes at him, but Dante merely brushed them away, focusing back on the call.

"Speaking of them, I thought I saw the oldest today… he's driving that sports car, you know, the fancy red one? Flashy fucker. How stupid can he be? Even Enzo knows how to fly under the radar, and he's about as dumb as they get."

Genna tensed, staring at her brother.

"Well, word on the street is Savina's sick. Yeah, cancer or something. She's being treated up at Presbyterian in Washington Heights… probably where he was heading when he drove through East Harlem, but you'd think he'd know better and stay west."