Chapter 12
XII. LIAR
I walked back up. At the front door, Mia leaned against the frame, looking at me like I had done something wrong.
“What?” I asked as I climbed the stairs toward the entrance.
“She won’t last a day down there,” Mia said.
“Good.” I pushed past her and into the house.
The place felt empty. Most of the people had left with Rocco for Rome. Half of them technically belonged to me, but they wanted extra money, so I let them go. More work and more pay for those who stayed meant less for us who will be without performing for three weeks.
Outside, the lights were off, and some of the tents were already coming down after the carnival closed. Just the air stayed the same, the wet smell of popcorn and old sugar.
“Do you want her in the attic?” Mia asked, closing the door behind her.
I sat on the staircase and shook my head.
She came closer and sat down across from me.
“Very well. What’s the plan?”
“As far as I remember, they wanted her,” I said. “And tonight, they found out she’s here. It’s only a matter of time before they come, and when they do, I will hunt them, one by one.”
“And what about the girl?” she asked.
“I will break her until she has nothing left but to stay here,” I said, looking her in the eye.
“Do you still hear them?” Mia asked.
I closed my eyes. My jaw clenched. The noise in my head kept getting louder, an echo crawling at the edges. “Every damn day.”
I was fucked. To. The. Core.
The voices that lived behind my teeth wanted blood, and they did not stop until they had some, until I drowned in it.
Mia reached into her corset and pulled out a folded letter.
“Your brother was here,” she said. “He said something about that night a year ago, and that you should meet him at Punta Nora.”
I took the letter and opened it fast. The handwriting was messy. It read:
“come after 3 a.m. ALone and brIng shoWel. E”
One thing was for sure, even though my brother Enzo thought he was smart, leaving me notes with capital letters spelling “ALIWE”, he sure did not know how to spell. I folded the note and shoved it into my back pocket.
“Does she know,” Mia asked, “that you are Rio’s brother?”
I pressed my palm over my mouth, dragging it down along my jaw. “No,” I exhaled. “Not yet.”
Mia sighed. “I’ll bring her food,” she said, already turning toward the hall.
“Don’t.” My voice came out rougher than I meant. “Let her starve a little. Fear keeps them quiet.”
She stopped in the doorway, her silhouette cutting against the light. “You really want her to hate you.”
A grin twisted across my face. “Hate makes her fuck better.”
Mia rolled her eyes and flicked her hand at me. “You silly boy.”
I rushed up the rest of the way and went straight to the office.
As soon as I entered, I locked the door. The clock started ticking louder, like it knew I didn’t want to hear it.
1 a.m.
Voices moved through the walls, faint but growing sharper.
I went to the bathroom, needing the shower, needing to wash it all off before I met Enzo at Punta Nora.
I walked through the park, the dark swallowing the woods with every step until I reached the path that led to the cliffs of Punta Nora.
That’s where Rocco buried Rio.
The shovel rested on my shoulder as I moved deeper in with a cigarette hanging from my mouth and a smoke trailing behind me.
Enzo was already there, standing near a bush of oleander flowers with a small wooden cross beside it. His shovel was half-buried in the dirt.
Every time I saw him, I couldn’t help but stare. He was the spit image of me, just thinner. Same height, same frame. The only difference was his eyes. One blue, one brown, and his long blond hair tied low at the back of his neck.
“You’re late,” he said, crossing his arms.
“What are you talking about?” I looked at the watch on my wrist.
3:01 a.m.
I raised a brow and set my shovel down, blowing out the last drag of smoke. “Anyway,” I sighed, dropping the cigarette and crushing it under my shoe. “Why are we here?”
“We came to say hello to our brother,” he said, shoving his shovel into the dirt and turning the first patch over.
I laughed. “You saying you missed him that much?”
He grunted, working the shovel harder. “So much I saw him walking in Rome.”
I tilted my head. “You think he’s alive?”
“Very much so.” He grunted again, digging deeper. “A little help?”
I blinked, then drove my shovel into the ground beside him.
“Well, fuck me. If he’s alive, I’ll be next underground.”
Enzo stopped and looked up at me.
“What did you do?”
I smiled, blinking slowly.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “One fucking thing he forbade us both to do.”
I kept smiling, the corner of my mouth curling before I bit my lip and sank the shovel back into the dirt.
“He asked me to keep an eye on her, make sure she’s taken care of,” I said with a laugh. “Well, I did.”
“Fuck,” he said, half laughing. “You’d fuck anything that walks, and you still chose to dip your dick in ‘his’ hot sauce.”
I dug deeper. “I like it when it burns.”
“Obviously,” he said, glancing at me. “We have to think of what’s next. Rio brought us together and into this mess.”
“I have a plan,” I said.
We drove the shovels into the dirt again. The next hit thudded against wood. Enzo crouched, brushed away the loose soil, and slid his knife to the edge of the casket.
He slammed his fist against the handle, snapping the lid open.
We were both silent for a minute.
It was empty.
“Cazzo,” he muttered. “He’s alive.”
“Well,” I said, “I think we should drink.”
He closed his eyes, exhaling hard.
“Hell with it,” he said, tossing his shovel onto the ground.
I picked mine up and swung it onto my shoulder before lighting another cigarette. “You’re not bringing yours?”
“Nah,” he said. “I stole it.”
“I’m keeping mine. Bought it on sale near the graveyard.” I raised it in the air, cigarette between my lips. “Brand new.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s a shovel.”
“Yeah. My shovel.“ I chuckled, then paused. “Hey, I have an idea.”
“Oscar,” he said, squinting at me. “Are you fucking drunk already?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Had a few glasses of whiskey before I came here.”
He tilted his head, studying me. “You have a problem.”
“So the idea is,” I said, laughing as I exhaled smoke, “what if we get matching tattoos?” I nudged his shoulder. “Eeeh? Huh?” I grinned. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re nuts,” Enzo said, walking ahead of me. Then he stopped and turned around. “What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know. We could get a dick tattoo, or...” I stopped, laughing hard. “What if I get my dick tattooed?”
He blinked, face twisting in disgust. “What if, instead of a tattoo appointment, I get you one at Santa Maria Asylum?”
“You’re no fun,” I said, looking down at him.
“If,” he said, holding up a finger, “and that’s a big if,“ he sighed, “you get your dick tattooed, you’ll have to heal. That means no sex.” He started laughing. “You think you would last a few days?”
“I’ll survive,” I said, placing a hand on my chest like I was swearing an oath.
We reached the edge of the park and stepped onto the path. I flicked my cigarette to the ground and crushed it under my shoe.
“If you really want to do it,” he said, “I know a guy. Down the road on the west side. His name is Vitto. Works twenty-four seven. Runs a bar, too. He did this masterpiece.” Enzo pushed up his sleeve.
On his arm, near the elbow, was a small lock and key.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Did it hurt?” I said, punching his shoulder. “Did you cry like a little bitch?”
“I wanted something meaningful. I’m not covering my body in random shit like you do.”
“I guess I’m a sucker for pain.” I grinned, winking at him.
“Hope so, because that dick tattoo will hurt,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” I waved him off as we reached the town. Just like he said, at the west end, a man was sitting out front.
We made our way over, and as we approached, Enzo and the man shared a quick hug.
Enzo pointed at me. “My brother wants his dick tattooed.”
The man laughed. “Can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious,” I said, jaw tight, face blank.
He cleared his throat, brushed past me, and pushed open the door. “This way.”
Inside, on the right, sat a guy with a knot tattoo on his neck, pouring a glass of whiskey. And on the left, behind a stained yellow curtain, was a small studio. Nothing looked sterile or clean, but I was too drunk and too set on this to turn back.
Vitto dropped into a chair and cracked his neck before glancing at me. “So, you’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Make it glow.”
He lifted a brow. “Glow?”
“Yeah. Neon blue. Something that lights up under blacklight. I want it to look like a damn sign.”
Enzo barked a laugh behind me. “Christ, you want to advertise it?”
“Why not?” I said, stripping naked without hesitation and lying back in the chair. “Might as well be useful in the dark.”
Vitto chuckled as he prepped his machine. “You’re out of your mind.”
“He’s drunk,” Enzo muttered, leaning against the wall. “He’ll regret this before sunrise.”
“I regret being related to you,” I said. “Now shut up and let the artist work.”
The machine buzzed as Vitto leaned closer, his face half-lit by the flickering lamp. He grabbed my cock with two fingers and sighed. “For the record, I’m not touching you again.”
“Cazzo, your hands are cold,“ I gritted out, teeth clenched.
The first touch of the needle made me flinch. Then came the pain. That slow, biting, addictive pain. It crawled under my skin and stayed there.
“You said neon blue, huh?” Vitto leaned closer, focusing on the work. “This’ll glow under UV. Hit the club lights and you’ll look radioactive.”
“Perfect,” I hissed between my teeth. “Maybe I’ll finally get noticed for my personality.”
Enzo groaned from behind me. “You won’t be getting noticed for anything for a while. No sex, no friction, no fun. Hope you like cold showers.”
I laughed, jaw tight, eyes squeezing shut. “It’s fine. I’ll meditate.”
“Or,” Enzo said, “you’ll fuck someone by tomorrow and beg them to ‘just be gentle.’”
“Shut up,” I grunted as Vitto pressed the needle deeper.
“You want the whole thing covered or just half?” he asked.
“Until the tip,” I said, chuckling through the pain.
Vitto glanced up. “Do I want to know why?”
Enzo shook his head, looking over at him.
I must’ve fallen asleep somewhere in between, because almost three hours later, he was done.
Vitto wrapped me in gauze like I had just come out of surgery. “Keep it clean. No swimming, no alcohol, no...”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, buckling my belt. “No fun. You doctors all sound the same.”
“Not a doctor,” Vitto muttered. “But if it gets infected, don’t come crying to me. I’m not cutting that thing off.“ He pointed his finger at my crouch.
I winked and dropped a rolled slip on the table. I didn’t ask how much it cost, but from the look in his eyes, and the fact that he didn’t complain, I knew I had paid more than enough.
Outside, the night had already broken into morning.
Enzo lit a cigarette and handed me one. I took it with shaking fingers.
“You happy now, genius?” he asked.
I smirked. “Happy? No. But I can say I glow in the best part.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re going to die of stupidity before any of us get the chance to kill you.”
I took a drag and watched the smoke twist in the air. “At least I’ll die looking bright.”
Enzo burst out laughing. “Hey, you forgot the shovel.”
Pain pulsed through me as I started walking.
“Shovel can stay.”