24. Elio
24
ELIO
Then
I lay on my bunk, trying hard not to move and set off my injuries. Last night’s assault had been extra vicious. It hadn’t helped that I’d made it a game not to show any emotion when they hit me. Sure, the first few weeks it had been tough, but I was becoming hardened to it now.
Last night had happened because I’d been caught in the west wing when the kitchen deliveries were made. I knew the schedule of all external contacts with the prison… and one day, I would escape. Nothing could keep me here when she was waiting for me.
The week before, I’d been pummeled for bribing another inmate to make a call for me. The call had never happened.
The last four weeks, I’d truly learned what being powerless meant. I’d been beaten and starved and mocked. I’d thought I might die a few times… but I couldn’t.
Not while she was waiting for me.
“Man, you must like pain. I’ve never seen another motherfucker go after it like you do. What, you really think you can escape, De Sanctis?” my cellmate asked, chewing the damn toothpick he was never without.
Sergio Ravelli was a low-level thug who was in for aggravated assault. He was older than me and had taken me under his wing, in a way, when I’d first gone inside. They called me De Sanctis because that was the name on my paperwork. No one knew I was here, and Bellisario had me admitted with a fake name. It boiled my blood.
“I told you that wasn’t my name. Escape has to be possible.”
“Santori, whatever. The way you’re going about it, it’s not. What you need is a sponsor. Someone important who will get you out. If you find one, ask for me, too. I can’t stand the thought of being in here another ten years.”
“I don’t know anyone who’d help me,” I told him confidently, just as a guard rapped on the bars.
“Santori. Visitor.”
My heart leapt. Was it Georgia? Had she found me?
“Holy shit — look at that! Maybe your luck is about to change!” Sergio sat up and grabbed my arm when I passed. “But don’t forget… you owe me, Santori. If you get out of here, you’d better find a way to take me with you.”
I stared down at Sergio’s hand, and something in my expression made him pull back.
“Just remember. If you figure a way out of here, it’s for both of us,” he repeated and stepped back.
I walked away without giving him a second thought. I had a visitor, and there was only one person in the world I could think of who would come and see me here.
When Renato De Sanctis walked into the room, I couldn’t have been more surprised. Sure, I’d been getting closer to the elusive Mafia heir when I’d lived in Castel Amaro, but him visiting me was still a surprise. I’d thought he’d been in the US. Wait, was he here about the bag that Alfredo had set me up to take?
He pulled out the chair across from me, waving me off when I went to rise.
“Don’t get up, Christ. You look like you could drop dead if you moved too quickly.”
I shrugged. “I’m tougher than I seem.”
He studied me. “So I see. How is it in here?”
“How do you think?” I asked. “How long have you been back?”
Renato sat back. Half the inmates in the place were glancing at him fearfully. The young, calculating Mafia heir who would inherit a dynasty.
“Honestly, I came as soon as Zio Sal told me some of what happened. I’m not really clear on it, except that you got on the wrong side of the prosecutor, and he’ll make sure you pay for that.”
“Georgia. Have you seen her?” I asked quickly, desperate for any shred of news.
Renato shook his head slowly. There was something in his eyes that was hard to look at. Something terrible.
“I’ve not seen her personally,” he said. “But she’s partly why I’m here.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Renato took his time. He had a manila envelope on the desk beside him, and a newspaper, folded neatly.
“Alfredo Bellisario has it out for you, and considering your relationship with his daughter, I can imagine why. I don’t know the details, I only know what Zio Sal knows… You took a bag containing drugs and money from the De Sanctis house and the cops found it on you. Alfredo means to keep you here… until you die.”
I stared at Renato. Die? It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was.
“I’m here because I don’t like Bellisario or men like him. Hypocrites. My uncle has a relationship with him, but I have none. I don’t like to see men like him get what they want.”
“Can you get me out?”
Renato shook his head. “It’s not that easy. I’m not the boss… yet. Still, there is something I can do.”
I held my tongue and waited to see where Renato was going with this.
“I’m here to offer you a deal.”
“A deal?”
Renato nodded. “I know talent when I see it, and I’ll be damned if I want to see someone I consider a friend die in a place like this.” He glanced around. “The police have real evidence on you, so I can’t get too involved with all of this… but I can swap you one sentence for another. You leave here and enlist in the Esercito Italiano . My contact will make sure you end up in the right place. You serve your country for however long you can stomach it… and when you’re done, then you come to America and become a De Sanctis. I need men I can trust around me.”
Esercito Italiano . The Italian Army.
“What about Georgia? I can’t make any deals that affect her. I have to see her as soon as I get out of here,” I told him, hope quickening my pulse.
There was that look again. Dark and terrifying. Renato dropped my gaze and picked up the newspaper.
“I brought you something. Don’t give me your answer until you see it.” His voice was carefully cool.
I opened the paper, and the headline slapped me across the face.
It was a regional rag, the kind of publication that thought local weddings were a big deal.
This time, they were right. It was a big deal.
There was a black-and-white photo of a couple standing in front of a courthouse, Alfredo Bellisario clapping in the background. Doves were captured in flight over the heads of the happy couple.
Local Millionaire Claims His Bride
Prosecutor Bellisario waves his daughter, Georgia, and her new husband off as they embark on their life in America. Tommaso Conti and his bride will settle in California, where he will attend intern at a financial services firm and Georgia will pursue her love of dressmaking.
Renato watched me as I waded through a turbulent storm of emotions. Georgia had married Tommaso Conti. She had married someone… she was married, and she was leaving Italy. I shot to my feet, panic making me careless.
The guard shouted at me to sit down immediately, and my wrist ached where I was handcuffed to the table.
I sank down. I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t see her. I was powerless. Powerless.
She was gone, and I was here… and I’d die here. She had left me. It seemed pretty clear. She’d found someone else to save her from Castel Amaro. I was surplus to requirements. Yesterday’s trash.
Renato leaned forward and slid the paper away. It felt like the future I’d thought I’d have was slipping through my fingers. Gone.
“If you take my deal, you owe me… when you get out, you come to me first?—”
“I’ll go,” I told him simply.
Renato raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re sure? I don’t want to sell anyone’s soul for them or make them live a life they abhor.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Ice formed in my chest. “Nothing matters anymore.”