Indebted to the Mafia King
Round Up

Dante

Two days before El's first class at Tandon, Tony and I sit on the back porch of the safehouse. I roll a glass of scotch between my palms and stare at the trees I know hide Christos' grave. "I don't think there's another choice at this point," I say.

"She was just kidnapped, Dante." Tony takes a long pull of his beer. "Putting off college for a semester is a goddamn option."

I shake my head. "She'd be devastated. And she fucking earned it, Tone. I'm not letting Camila take this from her."

"And if you move her into the city, Camila only has the opportunity to take her life." Tony rolls his eyes.

I sip my scotch. He's been touchy since he found out about Henry. I know it's the right move. Even if it scares the shit out of me.

"Has there been more activity?" I ask. "Or are we just hiding from shadows at this point?"

"Nothing huge." Tony shakes his head. "I don't fucking know what they'd do at this point. They've got the drug trade in a stranglehold. Everyone's hiding from goddamn shadows at this point." All of the Saints are still in hiding. Dozens are in Partridge with Mikey. More are just underground in the city. I stare back out at the invisible grave, and horrified realization crashes over me. "We haven't buried Seb yet," I say.

Tony shakes his head. "Nonna and I did. Quiet. No funeral. She said she was going to kick my ass if we didn't."

He told Nonna. I said I would go with him when he did that. He fucking buried Seb. Fuck, I haven't even told Eleni. I've just let time disappear while we sit in the safehouse, playing at being fucking safe. I've got a kid to take care of now, but I've abandoned everyone else who was depending on me.

"How are you?" I ask quietly.

Tony laughs. The sound is bitter, sharp-edged, and it slices right through me. My best fucking friend, and I've let him grieve his brother alone.

"I've been a shit," I say.

Tony raises his beer. "I'll drink to that."

I sip my own scotch. I tucked tail and ran when things got tough. The Saints have never fucking done that, and to have started under me is humiliating. So the Russians have the goddamn drug trade. Who gives a shit? We've never really bothered with that. So they've made some fucking waves. Nobody in history ever got anywhere rolling over and letting the bully have whatever they goddamn want. Cal Duncan might be a monster, but he's right, we can't just let the Russians wrap their tentacles around our goddamn city.

"I'm tired of hiding," I say.

"Took you fucking long enough," Tony mutters.

"Damn right it did." The criticism rolls easily off my back. I deserve it. "We can find a boss."

"Without the fucking feds?" Tony asks.

I swallow. I've made Henry certain promises. I might have enough on him to ruin his life, but mutually assured destruction doesn't appeal much more to me than sitting around in upstate New York for the rest of my goddamn life. "As much as possible," I say.

"You shouldn't have brought them in." He shakes his head.

My temper flashes. Without them, Camila would still have Eleni. We didn't have a fucking lead in sight. But now's not the time to have this fight.

"I'm tired of fighting with you," I say.

Tony grunts in agreement. "Truce?"

"Fuck a truce." I set down my drink and stand. "I want a funeral."

He quirks an eyebrow.

"Seb's," I say. "And then the whole Russian fucking syndicate."

Tony knocks back the rest of his beer. "That, I can get on board with."

I pat my jacket for my gun out of habit and realize I'm unarmed. I have been almost the whole time El and I have been up here. How fucking cocky have I gotten? How far out of the game? I don't know how I'm going to keep my child safe, not yet, but I know that the boss of the Saints doesn't go down without a fight.

"Lou's," I say.

Tony nods. The little deli in the city is one of our best-kept secrets, hidden behind so many layers of shell companies Frank Lombardi didn't figure out it was mine when that was the heart of his territory. Now, with everything in shambles, nobody in the city is going to have a goddamn clue. Lou himself is one of those family friends that's related somewhere along the tree, just close enough to play the blood-is-thicker card when I need it. Maybe I'll even get El to toss a few extra protections on the place, however she does that.

"That's our headquarters, at least for now. Tell everyone to keep the comings and goings light, though." I suck in a deep breath. "I want everyone there. We'll have the funeral when we know everyone will be safe, but we need to talk. It's time to get back to work."

Tony stands. "Consider it done."

"And set up meetings with Cal and Wing." A little of my old energy starts coming back, infusing me with my old power. "They need to know."

Tony rolls his eyes when I say Cal, but he doesn't disagree. "So you're really coming back?"

I grin. "Come on. Did you really think I wouldn't?"

The split second of hesitation before Tony's "no" sends a shiver of something cold down my spine. I abandoned him, and he doubted me.

"Two days," I say with all the certainty I can muster. "Ready the apartment. Ready the guys."

Tony nods and heads off down the steps. I grab his empty bottle and the remains of my scotch, then head inside. El is upstairs, doing something. We still haven't really talked about a plan, just continued floating in the bliss of hoping

something new might happen. It's stupid, looking back. Blissfully stupid, but stupid all the same. Both of us know avoiding danger doesn't make it go away. I toss Tony's bottle, finish my glass, and put it in the dishwasher. Even if domestic life is coming strangely easy to me. No, I have to go tell her it's time to face the music.

And exactly what facing the music meant for us last time.