“That’s good. It’s nice to have family.” Donatti picked up the cabbie’s hand and crushed the bills in his palm. “Now if you really forget who I am, then I will really forget who you are. But if you don’t forget, I have a very… long… memory. Know what I’m saying?”

“Yes, sir.”

He glanced at Rina, his eyes rolling in their sockets. He reached out to open the door. His hand was painted with blood. “Take care.”

Again she started to speak. Again Donatti smacked a hand over her lips. Hard. Her lip was already sore from where she had bitten into it. It hurt. She hurt. He spoke in low, deliberate tones. “Remember what you said about what would happen to me if I laid a finger on you?”

She removed his hand from her mouth and wiped her lips with the tips of her fingers. “Yes.”

“Take it back.”

“I take it back.”

“You can do that, right?”

“Yes, I can do that.”

He stared at her.

“It’s okay.” She nodded. “I understand what you did and why you did it. It didn’t count.”

“You’re right. None of that counted.” In a flash, he was on her, his mouth kissing her hard on her swollen lower lip, sucking up her blood. “Now that one… that did count.” He managed a devil’s smile. “Get out of the city. Go home. Take care of yourself. I mean that. I like you.”

He opened the door and limped out. She watched him unlock a glass door and slip inside a foyer. Within moments, he was out of sight.

24

Jonathan had gone beyond pale, his complexion having turned chalky—dry and gray. After finishing with mounds of paperwork, Decker took his brother’s arm—an act of physical as well as emotional support—and the two of them trudged outside to the parking lot to retrieve the van. Seeing Jon’s shaking hands, Decker offered to drive. Jonathan told him no, then opened the car doors, taking the driver’s seat. They sat for several minutes in silence, staring out the windshield.

Jonathan’s eyes were moist and red. He whispered, “What kind of monster does things like that?”

Decker didn’t have an answer. Guilt was still pouring into his conscience. He should have taken Shayndie forcibly, brought a gun and shot Donatti. If he had planned it more carefully, had trusted his own instincts instead of that bastard—

“What kind of God creates such monsters?” Jonathan said.

“I’ll drive,” Decker offered once again.

“I’m all right,” Jonathan answered. “Thanks for coming.”

“I just wish…” Decker started to pound the dashboard but wound up tapping it instead. “I’m sorry I failed you. I failed the whole family.”

“You didn’t fail, Akiva. That’s ridiculous.”

“You don’t know.”

Jonathan turned to him, waiting for an explanation.

“I could have done better.” Decker was abashed. “I should have done better.”

“I don’t believe that for a minute. If anyone failed, it was God. We’re nothing but His pawns—little pieces He moves around His board called the universe.” His lip trembled. “It’s not that I doubt His wisdom. That’s why we say Baruch Dayan Emes. I believe every word theoretically. But I am human… fallible… emotional. Right now, I’m very angry at Him.”