It was Angelo's. He carried the assassin's knife everywhere with him, even Luis Caddel couldn't make him leave it behind.
He pulled away from the kiss reluctantly, Angelo's wide, trusting eyes staring up at him, salty tears tracking through tangy blood.
"I said kill, not fucking kiss, you fucking whore." Luis Caddel's enraged voice came from behind them.
Nikolai just tuned him out, cupping Angelo's face with his injured hand, unconsciously smearing more blood. "You know what to do, Angelo, you know how to save your mom, you always have."
Angelo glanced down at the two completely different weapons in his hands. It was the truth… he always knew. He always knew, even from when he was a child watching his mom protect him from blows meant for him. He always knew, even when his dad came back to his mom's dead body and just kicked it over. He always knew, even when he had mustered up the courage to run away like he always thought his mom should have done.
