Chapter 7 - TWELVE MINUTES
The city had never moved slowly enough to make me afraid before.
That night, every red light felt personal.
Kane drove.
I called Sophia again.
Nothing.
The building superintendent answered on the fifth ring.
“Third floor’s on fire.”
“Apartment 3C.”
“What?”
“Is anyone out of 3C?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Find out.”
Smoke was already visible when we turned onto the block.
Fire engines crowded the street.
People stood beneath umbrellas in pajamas and coats.
I was out of the car before Kane stopped.
A firefighter blocked me.
“You can’t go in.”
“There’s a woman and child on the third floor.”
“Crews are searching.”
“Apartment 3C.”
“We know.”
I grabbed his coat.
Kane pulled me back.
“Dante.”
“Let go.”
“You go inside, they spend manpower rescuing you.”
I hated him because he was right.
Flames glowed behind one third-floor window.
Not 3C.
Maybe.
I could not tell.
Three years earlier, men had also told me to wait.
I had waited outside the lake house while firefighters searched.
Then a man had walked toward me carrying Isabella’s wedding ring in a plastic bag.
My knees nearly failed.
“Mr. Moretti!”
I turned.
Mrs. Ricci pushed through the crowd.
Her gray hair was soaked.
She carried Lily.
Alive.
The world tilted.
I crossed the sidewalk.
Lily stretched her arms toward me.
I took her.
She smelled like rain and strawberry shampoo.
Not smoke.
Not fire.
Alive.
I pressed my face into her curls.
“Where’s Sophia?”
Mrs. Ricci pointed toward an ambulance.
Sophia sat on the edge of the open doors wrapped in a blanket.
I carried Lily to her.
Sophia looked up.
Relief crossed her face.
Then anger.
“You came.”
“What happened?”
“Someone knocked.”
“Who?”
“A delivery driver. I didn’t open the door.”
“Then?”
“I smelled smoke from the stairwell. Mrs. Ricci had arrived ten minutes earlier because she refused to let me stay alone.”
Mrs. Ricci lifted her chin.
“Correctly.”
Sophia continued.
“We used the fire stairs on the other side.”
Lily touched my cheek.
“The fox made fire.”
“We don’t know that,” Sophia said gently.
I did.
Kane approached.
“Origin appears to be a storage room on three. Accelerant.”
Sophia looked at me.
“Gabriel?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
Something in me shifted.
This was no longer a family war contained behind expensive walls.
Gabriel had attacked a mother and a child because they knew something.
He had recreated the method that had killed Isabella.
He wanted me reliving those twelve minutes forever.
And for several terrible moments, it had worked.
I handed Lily back to Sophia.
Then walked away.
Kane followed.
“Where are you going?”
“To find him.”
“You don’t know where he is.”
“I know him.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is tonight.”
Gabriel had one place he went when he felt wronged.
Our father’s old boxing gym in Bridgeport.
We had learned to fight there.
Our father believed boys who inherited power should first understand what it felt like to be hit.
The gym had been closed for seven years.
Gabriel kept the deed.
At 11:18, Kane’s men found his SUV two blocks away.
“He knows we’ll come,” Kane said.
“Yes.”
“Then it’s a trap.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re smiling.”
“I’ve had a long week.”
We entered through the front.
One light hung above the old boxing ring.
Gabriel stood inside it.
Alone.
Or pretending to be.
No jacket.
Sleeves rolled.
Father’s ring still on his hand.
“You came quickly,” he said.
“Twelve minutes.”
His smile faded.
“What?”
“That’s how late I was to Isabella.”
I stepped closer.
“You made sure I remembered tonight.”
“I didn’t know the kid was there.”
“You knew.”
“I knew Sophia was.”
“That would have been acceptable?”
He shrugged.
“She chose a side.”
I climbed through the ropes.
Kane cursed behind me.
Gabriel watched.
“We haven’t done this since we were teenagers.”
“No.”
“You always won.”
“You always cheated.”
He smiled.
“There. You do remember.”
Then he swung.
The first punch caught my mouth.
The second missed.
I hit him in the ribs.
Years of rage wanted permission.
I gave it some.
Not all.
We fought like brothers who had spent childhood learning each other’s weaknesses.
He knew my left shoulder had been shot eight years earlier.
I knew his right knee never healed correctly after a motorcycle accident.
He struck the shoulder.
I kicked the knee.
He laughed with blood on his teeth.
“Feel better?”
“No.”
“Come on, Dante. You’ve wanted this for years. You just didn’t know my name belonged on the anger.”
He charged.
We went down against the ropes.
His fist caught my jaw.
Mine caught his stomach.
Then he whispered, “She called me.”
I froze.
“Who?”
“Isabella.”
Everything stopped.
Gabriel smiled.
“The night of the fire.”
I grabbed his shirt.
“What did you say?”
“She called because she saw men outside.”
My vision darkened.
“You told me you didn’t know she was there.”
“I didn’t until then.”
That changed everything.
“You knew.”
“She asked me to send help.”
My hands shook.
“Did you?”
He looked at me.
“No.”
The word destroyed the last fragment of brotherhood between us.
I hit him.
Once.
Twice.
He fell.
I got on top of him.
My hands closed around his throat.
He laughed.
“Do it.”
Kane shouted my name.
Gabriel looked up at me.
“Come on. Become exactly what everybody thinks you are.”
I tightened my grip.
Then I heard a small voice in memory.
You’re making the scary face again.
Lily.
I released him.
Gabriel coughed.
“Why’d you stop?”
I stood.
“Because you don’t get to decide who I become.”
Kane entered the ring and cuffed him.
Gabriel looked almost disappointed.
Then a phone vibrated in his pocket.
Kane removed it.
One unread message.
FROM: RUSSO.
Everything ready for morning. Salvatore still doesn’t know.
My blood went cold.
My chief of staff.
The man who had blocked Sophia from seeing me.
Gabriel was not the only traitor.
Kane looked at me.
“Morning what?”
Gabriel laughed from the floor.
I crouched beside him.
“What happens in the morning?”
He smiled.
“You really think I spent three years depending on one doctor?”
The lights went out.
A gunshot exploded from the back of the gym.
Kane dragged me down.
Men shouted.
Another shot.
When emergency lights flickered on, the back door stood open.
Gabriel was still cuffed.
But his smile was gone.
Because the shot had not been aimed at me.
Blood spread across his shirt.
His own partner had tried to silence him.
Gabriel stared at the wound.
Then at me.
“Russo,” he whispered.
For the first time in my life, my brother looked afraid.
“He was supposed to work for me.”
I pressed my hand against the wound while Kane called for an ambulance.
Gabriel stared at me in disbelief.
“Why are you helping me?”
May you like
I looked down at him.
“Because I’m not you.”
