I park in front of my house and sit in the car to take a quick mental inventory of everything before I go in there. It took a good bit to get over here, but I still haven’t had enough time to process all this shit. Pops’ car is out front. I know he’s waiting for me inside. I sent him a text letting him know I had something I needed to talk to him about, and I know he’s gonna be sweating his balls off with worry. I grip the wheel with both hands, remembering how I left her at the safe house.

She’s only in an old Henley shirt of mine. Both wrists are tied to the bed frame. I think she’s comfortable. I hope she is. I hate leaving her like that, but I have to get my dog. I already picked up some food for breakfast, and some clothes for her to wear. But right now I have to talk to Pops. The Don. I tap the wheel a few times and finally get the fuck out of the car. I might as well get this over with.

He’s standing in the living room, and I see him as soon as I walk in. His eyes are on me as I toss the keys on the table and bend down to greet Rigs. My black lab is all muscle, with a long-ass tail that thumps onto walls as he wags it. He licks my face and I try to smile. But I can’t.

“You alright, son?” My father’s words wipe my pathetic attempt to smile right off my face. A thick feeling of sickness settles in my stomach.

I stand up and head to the living room. “I think everything’s going to be alright. I just have something to tell you.”

His facial expression doesn't change when he hears this. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes, but other than that, nothing.

“What’s going on, Vince?” His voice is hard, like it always is. Pops is old now, with grey in his hair, and wrinkles around his eyes. But he’s still got a hard edge. Anyone who's ever met him wouldn’t find it hard to believe he’s the boss, 'cause he looks like and acts like the boss. I’ve always looked up to him. But right now, I’m finding it hard to look him in the eyes.

“It’s basically taken care of, but I fucked up.” I take a seat on the sofa, and Rigs hops up next to me and tries to sit in my lap. He’s 6 months old or so now, not exactly the little puppy he was when I first got him. But, I really don’t mind it. He can still keep thinking he’s a tiny lapdog when he’s 80 pounds for all I care. I give Rigs a few pats, then look my father square in the eyes.

“I fucked up and because of me a broad walked in on Tommy and Anthony.” There, it’s out. My father’s expression stays flat.

“I see. That’s very disappointing.” His jaw is clenched tight and he keeps his eyes on me as he takes a seat to my left. “And it’s basically taken care of?” He cocks an eyebrow at me.

“I couldn’t let them fix it the way we normally take care of that.” Witnesses don’t exist to us, because if they see anything that could threaten the familia, they’re dead. That’s just how it works.

“What do you mean?” His eyes narrow. “What all did she see?”

“She walked in at the end of an interrogation.”

“And where is she now?” Although his words are calm, I can practically hear his heart racing and waves of anger rolling off of him.

“At the safe house. The cabin.” The look of sheer disappointment from my father crushes me. He leans forward with his head resting in his hands and his elbows on his knees. “Pops, she’s not going to remember. Tommy gave her some of the roofies we use.”

Pops looks pissed.

“What was I supposed to do? Kill her? It was my fault, I know, but I’m taking care of it.” My voice raises in anger, and I almost regret it. Almost.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks with disdain.

I press my lips into a tight line and shake my head. “What were you doing, Vince? What was so important to you that you let a broad back there to see that?”

“I said I fucked up.” I’m getting more and more pissed off listening to him tear me a new one. Yeah, I know what I did was wrong. I shouldn’t have taken her back there, back at the bistro. I fucking forgot what was going on.

“And if she remembers? When she wakes up, if she remembers, are you going to kill her?” I look over his face and I have no clue what he wants me to say. My gut roils and I know I wouldn’t want to kill her. But what choice will I have?

“All this, just to get your dick wet, Vince?” He asks sarcastically. God damn, does he have to twist the knife?

“Pops, you don’t understand.”

“Explain it to me then. I’d love to know what was going on in that head of yours that you failed to do the one thing you were in charge of.”

I lay my head back against the sofa and stare at the ceiling. I run a hand over my face in exasperation. “I can’t tell you. I just felt like--” He cuts me off.

“Like what? Horny? Is that it?” He’s still pissed and I get it, I really do. I’m pissed, too. But give me a fucking break. I didn’t let it get out of hand. I’m fixing this shit.

I open my eyes and stare back at my father with daggers in my eyes. “It was more than that.”

His brows raise in disbelief. “Oh? Is that right?” He looks at me expectantly and still I don’t know what to tell him.

“I told you, I fucked up. But I’m taking care of it. Tomorrow she’ll be gone.”

My father stares back at me with a look of contemplation. I wish he’d just give the okay. That’s what I need from him, but instead he pushes me further. “How are you going to know for sure that she doesn’t remember?”

I don’t. That’s the fucked up part. If she’s a really good actress, I could be fucked. But I’m not going to tell him that. I can’t. I don’t want her dead. But I know I shouldn’t be taking risks like this.

Pops looks at me like he can read my mind. “Bring her to dinner tomorrow.”

“Pops, I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Sounds like you already did, Vince.” He stands up and waits for me. I have to move Rigs to get up, and he doesn’t like it, vocalizing his displeasure with a soft whine.

“I feel like shit.”

He smirks at me. “That’s exactly how you look, too.”

I roll my eyes, but he’s probably telling the truth. “I’m going to make this right.”

He nods his head and then looks out the window. “I hope she forgets, Vince. I really do.” He gives me a quick hug, coupled with a stern pat on the back. His hand goes to my shoulder and he squeezes. “If it means anything to you, I think you made the right decision.” He releases me and breathes in deep. “It’s not her fault.” His eyes find mine again. “Let me know before dinner if she’s coming.” He purses his lips thoughtfully, but then he frowns. “If not, and you need help, you can call me if you need.”

My blood chills. I know that’s the only other option. But I fucking hate it.

I finally answer, “She’ll be at dinner.” He nods his head with a grim smile as he walks me to the door.

He watches me leave, and it's not until my house is out of sight that the true weight of the situation settles heavily against my chest.

I’ll go back and untie her ass, but I’m staying close. I just have to wait until she wakes up. Then I’ll know what I have to do.

If she remembers, I’m going to have to kill her. I don’t have a fucking choice.