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“Are you fucking kidding me?” DiAngelo bellows behind us.

I stop and turn, leveling him with a stare devoid of all emotion. I can’t predict what I’ll feel around him, so I shut it all out. He’s merely another man on the street trying to stop me from getting where I’m going.

“Nothing funny about this situation. Your man Mazzi ignored my warnings, and now he’s dead.”

DiAngelo spits a curse. “He’s not my man. I knew he’d do something stupid like this. That’s why I was keeping tabs on him. Fucking moron.”

“Now he’s a dead fucking moron. Unless you want to end up the same, we’re leaving.”

“Are you threatening me now?” my brother demands, his narrowed eyes spitting fire. “What the fuck did I ever do to you to deserve this? I ought to come over there and break your fucking neck for everything you put us through.”

My fists clench until my knuckles pop.

I take a step forward when Isa thrusts herself in front of me, arms out to the sides to bar me from proceeding.

“You two are not fighting,” she demands in a furious tone. “Not here. Not now. What you will do is talk this over and hear each other out when the time is right.”

DiAngelo’s lips curve in a snarl. “You’re siding with him? I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Believe it,” I bark at him, receiving an elbow to the gut for my efforts.

Isa shoots me a glare. “I’m not choosing sides. Just know that I’m okay. Please tell my dad that I’m okay, and I’ll try to be in touch soon.” She turns and takes my hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

We start down the sidewalk when D calls out behind us.

“Your father’s sick, Isa. You need to see him.”

Isa’s steps falter, and she peers over her shoulder.

I can’t see her face, but I can feel the fear radiating off her. “We’ll find out what’s going on once we’re back on the boat,” I assure her quietly.

She nods and keeps walking, but her teeth gnaw on her bottom lip, and her brow knots together with worry. Despite her fears and family loyalty, she holds on to my hand and follows my lead.

It hits me as the danger ebbs that she didn’t show the slightest inclination to run from me. In fact, when DiAngelo slung his threats, her instinct was to protect me by interjecting herself between us. That’s not what I would have expected. Not yet.

She doesn’t remember our past, yet she still chose me.

I’m humbled but also disgusted with myself for putting her through all this. The danger. The worry. She doesn’t deserve any of it. A part of me was bitter about her not showing up the morning I was kidnapped, but I think that was a defense mechanism more than anything. Her reasons that day are irrelevant. She’s still the Isa I fell in love with, and her memory loss isn’t her fault. She’s dealt with life in the best way she knows how.

And DiAngelo? Is the same true for him?

A bucket of self-loathing pours over my head, drenching me in thick, tar-like contempt.

I’ve avoided thinking about him for that very reason. It’s too much. The pain of being separated from my other half. The fear of what he’d say when seeing him for the first time. The anger of knowing his lies instigated my kidnapping. It was easy to blame him. He was the one who was supposed to be working at the marina. He led strangers to believe he was wealthy. I was innocent.

But deep down, I know he would have gladly taken my place.

I’m sure he punished himself more than I ever could have. So why not go back to him the minute I gained my freedom? For the same reasons I avoided Isa. I told myself they’d moved on without me. That there was no going back to that life, and trying to would only make things worse.

But most of all, coming back to them would bring me back to my parents, and that wound was too grave to reopen. Crossing paths with my parents would mean facing their betrayal. They threw me away like so much garbage. The prospect of reliving that pain was too horrific to chance.

Embracing my past was always an all-or-nothing prospect.

The dominoes are falling exactly as I would expect. Now that I’ve reminded myself of Isa’s sweetness, my craving is too intense to go back. That pursuit has put me directly into DiAngelo’s path. How much longer before I’m forced to face my parents? How will I respond when that moment comes?

I have no idea, but I fear it won’t be pretty.

CHAPTER 40