A Crying Little Boy Ran Into Our Restaurant And Begged My Tattooed Brothers To Save His Mother.

We went back to the restaurant.

The mood was heavy.

Marco was gone.

And he knew we were looking for him.

Worse, he knew about Sarah and Leo.

That meant they were in danger.

"We need to increase security," Tony said. He was pacing back and forth in the office. "24/7 watches. Someone always with Sarah and Leo. No one goes anywhere alone."

We all nodded.

"I'm going to talk to some friends," Vinnie said. "People who owe us favors. If Marco's in the city, someone's seen him. We'll find him."

"Good," Tony said.

I went upstairs to check on Sarah and Leo.

Leo was watching cartoons on the small TV in their room. Sarah was sitting on the bed, staring at the wall.

"They didn't find him," she said. It wasn't a question.

I shook my head. "No. But we will."

She looked at me, fear in her eyes.

"He knows we're here, doesn't he? He knows about Leo and me."

I didn't want to lie to her.

"Yes," I said. "But you're safe here. We're not going to let anything happen to either of you."

Sarah stood up and walked to the window. She looked down at the street below.

"I keep thinking about what you told me," she said. "About your father. About how Marco killed him."

She turned to face me.

"I never knew. Marco never told me about any of that. He said he'd left his old life behind. That he was a different person now. But he was lying. He was always lying."

Her voice broke.

"How could I be so stupid? How could I marry a man like that? How could I bring a child into the world with him?"

I walked over to her.

"You're not stupid," I said. "You were in love. You wanted to believe the best of him. That's not a flaw. That's what makes you a good person."

Sarah looked up at me, tears in her eyes.

"What if he comes here? What if he tries to take Leo?"

"He won't," I said. "I won't let him. None of us will."

I meant it.

Marco Rinaldi had taken our father from us.

We would not let him take anything else.

The next few days were tense.

Vinnie's friends were out looking for Marco.

We kept a close watch on the restaurant.

Sarah and Leo didn't leave the building.

Leo seemed to be handling it well, all things considered. He liked being around the restaurant. He liked watching the cooks work. He liked talking to the regulars who came in.

He especially liked following Tony around. Tony, who was usually the toughest, most serious of us all, had a soft spot for the boy. He would let Leo sit on his lap while he went over the books. He would teach Leo how to make the perfect meatball. He would tell him stories about our father.

Stories about a good man. A man who worked hard. A man who loved his family.

I saw the way Leo listened to those stories. The way his eyes would light up.

He needed a father figure. A good one.

And Tony... Tony needed something to focus on other than vengeance.

It was good for both of them.

On the fourth day, Vinnie came back with news.

"I found someone who saw Marco," he said. "Two nights ago. At a motel on the edge of town. The Starlight."

"Is he still there?" Tony asked.

Vinnie shook his head. "He checked out yesterday. But the clerk said he was asking about buses. Buses to Mexico."

Mexico.

He was running.

"We need to find him before he leaves the country," I said.

"We will," Tony said. "Vinnie, talk to your friends at the bus stations. At the airport. At the train stations. If he tries to leave this city, we need to know about it."

Vinnie nodded and left.

Tony turned to me.

"We need to talk to Jimmy Rizzo again," he said. "He knows more than he told us. He has to."

We found Jimmy at his apartment.

He was surprised to see us.

And scared.

"I told you everything I know," he said, backing away.

"Not everything," Tony said. He stepped into the apartment, blocking the door. "Marco's planning to run to Mexico. You knew that, didn't you?"

Jimmy's eyes darted around the room.

"Maybe I heard something," he said.

"Where is he, Jimmy?" I asked. "Where's he hiding now?"

Jimmy hesitated.

"Look, I can't tell you that," he said. "Marco would kill me."

"Then you'll have to choose," Tony said. His voice was cold. "Marco. Or us."

Jimmy swallowed hard.

He was quiet for a long time.

Then he said, "He's got a cabin. Up in the mountains. About an hour outside of town. He goes there when he needs to lay low. No one knows about it. Except me."

He wrote the address on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

"If you go up there," he said. "Be careful. Marco's got nothing left to lose. He'll fight."

We left.

On the drive back to the restaurant, I looked at the address in my hand.

The mountains.

An hour outside of town.

Marco was there.