37. Nero
Chapter 37
Nero
8 YEARS OLD
“ E at it,” Evangeline yells.
Days of hunger had a way of rewiring your brain. Tala and I fight against each other to get to the spoonful of spaghetti Evangeline throws onto the floor. We had been chained up in the dungeon Evangeline created from the limited space in the shed.
Three days later, and you just don’t care about the food or its presentation. Cramming the noodles and red sauce into our faces, Tala and I devour the spoonful, unsure of when we’ll be able to eat again.
Evangeline opens the oven, and the smell of garlic hits my nostrils. My stomach begins to rumble.
“How hungry are you, Tala?” she asks, holding the pan of French bread above us.
I look at my sister, whose usually bright face has sunken in. Summer vacation was killing us. The dungeon was a living hell. Texas humidity made our nights restless. Not having food or water for three days made us weak.
“Punch Nero.” Evangeline commands.
Tala starts shaking her head, her resistance making Evangeline smile.
“Punch him in the face, and you’ll both eat.”
This was one of Evangeline’s favorite games with us. She got a high off, making us hurt one another. I smile at my sister.
“It’s okay, Tala. Just do it.” Her hands shake at her sides, and tears run down her face.
“Do it now, Tala, or the deals off! Neither of you will eat.” Evangeline orders.
Tala slaps me across the face with a light force.
“Harder!” Evangeline screams.
When Tala doesn’t move, the bad thing grabs me by the hair and delivers a fist to my nose. Tala cries out when blood spouts from my nostrils.
“Like this!” Evangeline says, holding me up by my hair and offering Tala a free shot. Tala closes her eyes as her hand balls into a fist. Her fist hits me in the same place my mother had.
Some people would claim that pain is essential to teaching.
That it created defining moments. I say fuck those people. Tala and I, having endured Evangeline’s abuse and even being forced to hurt one another, didn’t do anything monumental for us.
Walking around, feeling like my heart had been ripped out of my chest, wasn’t a very defining moment for me either.
In the month since Ari had ended things, I’d spiraled. Downward. Back into the pitch-black world where color and light ceased to exist.
Where pink ceased to exist.
My nights became a mission to chase death, starting bar fights so that I could let my frustrations out. Standing there while they hit me and taking every hit. I’d pull that bitch Evangeline out from her grave and let her hurt me all over again just to numb myself from this pain. This ache in my heart.
“This should have been over a long time ago.”
Ariella’s words cut like a fucking knife. It should have been over long ago, but I let myself get involved with Cassiel’s games.
That’s where the line blurs, though. If I hadn’t been so willing to play his accomplice, I would have never met her. I’d never let my guilt convince me to apply for the bodyguard position. Everything that happened between us would cease to exist. I’ll take the mistakes I made over, never knowing her at all.
“ Se me olvidó otra vez. Que solo yo te quise.” The screeching voice next to me sings with the jukebox.
I hate this fucking song.
I lift my head to find Louie singing obnoxiously to Lucha Villa and drop my head back to the bar counter.
“Shut up, Louie.”
I must have passed out at the bar again, which was nothing new these days. My vision blurs, and my head is throbbing.
I find the strength to pull myself up and stumble through the halls to one of the back rooms. The spinning starts, so I lay down on the bed and close my eyes. What day is it? Tuesday?
The spinning subsides, and I can finally slip into the comfort of my nightmare. It was comforting compared to the reality I’m living. I’d still see Ariella there. She would leave me all over again, but I could see her.
I’m passed out on the bed when I hear the knocking.
“Go away,” I grumble.
When the door bursts open, I groan at the light that peers in.
“You look like shit,” Silas says.
“Fuck you,” I reply. Closing my eyes
“?Ya bájale de huevos! I brought you a gift.”
My eyes spring open when I hear the bark. Guapo runs, jumps on the bed, and licks my face.
“Princess Peach couldn’t keep him, and he was whining a lot at the house. Figured you could both be sad fucks together.”
Guapo cuddles into me. I try and sit up, but the blood rushing to my head is too much.
Fucking Modelo.
My head falls back, and Guapo begins barking. The hangover caused a brief delay in my reaction, but panic takes root inside me.
“Where is Ariella?” I say, my body shooting up to face the blurred figure before me.
“You’re a fucking mess,” Silas says, his gaze skimming over the empty Modelo cans and bags of Whataburger scattered throughout the room.
“You came all the way over here to tell me that?” Wincing, I look up at the arrogant bastard standing in the doorway.
“No, I came here to tell you to get the fuck up. We have a meeting with Savino Biondini to make a truce.”
I should have known something was up when Silas wore a flannel and jeans. Clothing he swapped for designer suits after stepping down from the club to pursue other things.
By other things, I mean kidnapping his wife after faking his death. Admirable, to say the least, but I’m not a kingpin, and if I try kidnapping Ariella, one of her family members would shoot me on sight. I know. I thought of it a million times already.
“Where’s Ariella?” I ask again.
“I’ll tell you on the way. Get dressed. And leave the dog.”
“Where are we meeting?” I ask.
“You’re guess is as good as mine.”
It takes an hour to get to Savino Biondini’s house. We ride to the tunnels and wait for a large SUV filled with several of his men to retrieve us.
Taking a huge fucking risk Silas and I are forced to give up our cellphones and weapons. Hoods cover our heads during the length of the ride.
We’re not even trusted to see the outside of the house. Leading us through the house, I smell something similar to Jasmine. A smell I often associate with my father.
When the hoods are pulled off, Silas and I are presented with Savino himself sitting at the end of a long table in plaid pajama bottoms and a bathrobe, smoking a cigar.
“You made it. Benvenuto. Take a seat,” he says with a thick Italian accent.
Silas and I look at each other before we take our seats at the other end of the table.
Savino is leaner than both Silas and me. His salt-and-pepper hair is combed over, and his beard is neatly trimmed. In front of him sits an empty plate, a cup of coffee, and a gun.
“Let’s get to business. I have a busy day, and I’m sure you do as well, Mr. Macias.” He says calmly.
“We understand there may have been some bad blood between your family and Cassiel Ontiveros, the former president of Los Peregrinos Motorcycle Club.” Silas begins.
“The club’s made some changes to our leadership. Our newest leader is here to make peace between the mafia and Los Peregrinos.”
Savino’s eyes move to mine as he looks me over. His elbows are propped on the table, hands clasped together in front of him. Something is off about the way he’s looking at me, like he’s seen me before.
Maybe he remembers me from the hotel. I look up at the wall behind him and recognize a large wooden spoon and fork hanging above the kitchen entryway. It was similar to a set my father brought back from the Philippines for Evangeline.
“What’s your name?” Savino asks, and the answer doesn’t fall from my lips.
“Nero. Don’t move.” A feminine voice sounds behind me.
A gun clicks at the back of my head, and I take a deep breath before I turn to meet the threat. Her features are cold. Her eyes a distant memory. I’m speechless. Blinking as I make sense of the figure in front of me.
“Tala! Amore! What are you doing?” Savino cautions, standing and staring at her.
“I’m so sorry. My wife can be a bit protective at times. Tala, please drop the gun, Vita Mia.” he says in a soothing tone.
Tala stands staring at me, a ghost from her past. The gun doesn’t leave her hand. She doesn’t even look the slightest bit shocked to see me. Savino Biondini moves to her side and kisses her on the cheek.
“Is he here to hurt you?” she cries, dropping the gun and moving into him.
I look to Silas, who is watching the scene before him with furrowed brows.
Tala has aged, but many of her features are still the same. Her almond round eyes and black wavy hair. The scar above her left brow where she had fallen from the clubhouse. I had been searching my whole life for her, and here she was.
Attempting to kill me.
“What are you doing here, Nero?” she asks coldly.
“What are you doing here, Tala?”
“This is my home. This is my husband.” She says, looking up at Savino. He looks down on her with furrowed brows before looking back at me.
“This is your brother Nero?” he says enthusiastically, but Tala doesn’t look the least bit enthusiastic.
“So, no, hi, I missed you. How are you doing?” I say, staring into her cold black eyes.
“I knew where you were.” She confesses.
My chest tightens, and it feels like betrayal all over again. I’m eight years old and waiting for her to come back.
“I think we should give them some privacy,” Savino says to Silas, nodding to the entryway.
“It was nice to meet you, Nero.” He says to me before his eyes move to Tala’s.
“Amore, these are not our enemies.” As soon as they leave the room, I stand to pace the small space between Tala and me.
“You knew where I was?”
It’s a question to myself more than it is for her. A painful reminder that I had exhausted all resources trying to find her. Trying to protect her, and she couldn’t care less about me.
“You know, looking back now, Tala, the plan doesn’t make sense,” I say, shaking my head.
There was always this dark thought that she had left me. The fire was too big that night to be just another dropped cigarette. Eight-year-old me didn’t argue, but now it didn’t make sense. Why couldn’t I have ridden on the handlebars? Why couldn’t we walk?
She didn’t want me to slow her down.
“You were never coming back for me, were you?” The question comes from the pit of my stomach. Words like bile rose up my throat.
“I couldn’t do it anymore.” She admits.
“I needed you, Tala. I needed my big sister.”
“Nero. I was a child.”
“SO WAS I!” I shout. “And had the roles been reversed. I would have never done that. If I had been smart enough to escape the way you did, I would have stayed and endured the abuse before leaving you to endure it alone!”
She looks pained but refuses to cry. Keeping her head held high, she stares at me. I can see the way she’s aged into my mother. The way her cold expression lacks sympathy outside her suffering.
“I am glad you got to redeem yourself. To fall in love and have your own family. I’m not even mad about that, Tala. I can’t be because I know what we went through. At least one of us is happy.”
“Nero, please.”
“I came here to make peace with Savino. I’d never hurt you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and now I see you are.” I say, turning my back.
It’s all my broken heart has left to give. Tala may have guarded me momentarily from my mother, but at the end of the day, her pain made her just as selfish to leave me there.
Maybe I needed to be selfish, too. The pain has controlled me for so long, and I wasn’t going to miss out on happiness either. I know where I belong. Who I belong to. And I would risk everything just to see her one last time.