SUN #10
"Well, how’s that, pet? You enjoying this?" Anzo sneers. "Still feel like mouthing off? ’Cause I swear, I could leave you hanging here all fucking night…"
The thought alone, makes my breath catch in my throat.
"No, I’m sorry. Anzo, please. Please forgive me… I’ll behave. I promise!"
I hate myself for those pitiful, undignified words. I know how small I sound now, like a kicked puppy, but pain is a stronger enemy than pride, and I can’t beat it. I’ll have to find another way to get back at this bastard. Something that makes me feel like I haven’t lost everything .
Anzo chortles, then spits. His saliva hits my shoulder.
"You’re pathetic, boy. What a fucking disappointment."
He unhooks Summer and drops him to the floor. He lands the same way as before, on his knees. He doesn’t look like his arms hurt at all. Either he’s used to this… or I don’t know what the fuck kind of magic trick he’s using.
Anzo hands him something.
"Unlock his crotch."
Summer stands, head bowed, and walks toward me. I’m still lying flat.
Very gently, carefully, he slides a tiny key into the underside of my dick cage. He removes it slowly, then sets it on the table. I’m guessing it was him who put it on me, on Anzo’s orders. Maybe he even dressed me.
I don’t say anything. My mind’s blank.
Strangely, for a second, I think about my dad’s lecsó , the one I didn’t even touch. It’s probably still in the fridge, slowly going bad.
A gift from my dad… who made it knowing how much I love it.
Out of love.
Out of care.
And I just rejected it like that, his little way of showing affection, like the ungrateful fucking bitch I am.
In a way, I deserve what’s coming.
Now I have no love. I threw it away like it didn’t matter. Instead, I have pain, humiliation, degradation.
I want to cry, my thoughts begging for another chance, to see my dad again…
Something beeps in Anzo’s pocket.
I recognize the personalized text message sound; I composed it myself.
Anzo pulls it out and glances at the screen.
"Wow, he’s good, your dad. Uncanny intuition. Keeps bombarding you with texts, asking if everything’s all right," the fucker says.
He looks up at me and my eyes get wet.
Dad knows, feels me, somehow… The person I treated with such disregard still loves me, thinks of me… It breaks me even more.
"Well. Guess we gotta deal with that now."
Anzo crouches next to me, and I flinch.
"Now listen to me very carefully. Matteo, Franco, and Massimo are sitting in the soldiers’ lounge right now," he says. "From there, it’s about a two-hour drive to your parents’ house. In two hours, your dad will be dead if you fuck up even once during that call. Got it?"
His face is like stone.
I stare at him. I feel the blood drain from my head. Actually, it feels like it’s draining from my whole body. Anzo watches my reaction closely.
"Do I have your attention now? Good. Listen up. You’re going to call your dad back.
You’ll tell him you broke up with Martin and you’re feeling a little down, but everything else is fine and he doesn’t need to worry.
That’s the only way he lives. If you so much as hint at anything weird, if he senses anything off, your dad’s dead in two hours. Got it?"
I nod. I’m not even thinking about trying anything. Because my dad’s life, just the idea of anything happening to him, is worse than the vision of my own death. He’s already suffered enough. He doesn’t deserve any more pain. I already added to it.
Anzo grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me up into a chair. The position feels unnatural. I’d rather be lying down. My arms drop lower now, triggering another wave of pain. But he hands me the phone.
"Put it on speaker. Call him back."
I do as I’m told and press the green button.
"Sun? How are you, son? I’m sorry to keep bothering you, honey. I just… I’m really worried about you. I feel like something’s very wrong…"
I have to choke back the tears building in my eyes, and steady my voice; it wants to crack, wants to fill with sobs.
"Dad, you don’t need to apologize for calling. I… I’m not doing great. I broke up with Martin. It was bad. A big fight. I’m just not in the best mood."
There’s a pause on the line. I’ve never confided in him like this. Never said I felt shitty after a breakup. Usually it’s like, "Eh, screw that idiot." So yeah, this is different.
"Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize Martin meant so much to you. Do you want me to come over? Do you want to talk about it?"
"Thanks, Dad. But I’ll manage somehow. I’ve got classes, I need to prep for them. But thank you for calling. I love you. Please… remember that."
Silence.
I’ve NEVER said that to him before. Never told my dad I love him. Honestly, most of the time, I acted like the opposite. No wonder Dad’s pushing, his voice is tight with worry.
"Sweetheart, please, let me come see you tomorrow. Just for a little while."
I glance at Anzo, and to my surprise, he nods.
What the hell? Is he actually thinking about letting me go to the dorm?
Anzo raises two fingers.
"Fine. Drop by around 2:00."
"Great, I’ll swing by the dorm then."
"Sure. Bye."
I hang up, still stunned, and lift my gaze to Anzo.
"Why did you agree to that? What are you planning? You can’t hurt him! I did as you told me!" I blurt out.
Anzo tilts his head slightly.
"You think I’m an idiot, Sun?"
He leans in and lifts my chin with two fingers.
"You think that conversation sounded normal? Because I’m absolutely sure you don’t talk to him like that on a regular basis, you sneaky little fox.
Telling him you love him, thanking him for calling?
You were waving a giant red flag. That something’s wrong.
Something’s off. Something extraordinary.
I know that even if you had told him not to come, he still would’ve.
So now I’m taking the bull by the horns… "
"Sir, please! It’s because you forced me to bring up Martin! I never talk about stuff like that! I always brush off breakups, so of course that got his attention… Please!"
Anzo tilts his head and rubs his chin. Then he says, "Well, okay. Your dad will come to the dorm, and this time you’ll play it smarter.
You’ll meet in your room, but my guys will be in the neighboring ones, listening in.
And if you do anything, and I mean anything, that might give away where you really are, they’ll come in and slit his throat right in front of you. "
I’m shaking. Dammit. What the hell was I thinking, saying all that to Dad? Of course Anzo saw through it. Am I ever going to be one step ahead of him? Doesn’t seem like it.
I stare at him for a moment, thinking about what kind of person he must’ve been to beat two alpha brothers, to take over most of the business from his uncle and wipe out two other mob families in the city.
Maybe that’s just who Anzo is. Always one step ahead? Does he have slip-ups?
Oh, I read so many books about so-called ‘Gary Stu’ characters. So young yet so bright, and beats everything and everybody. Smarter than the most genius villains! At just sixteen, saves the world. Yep, not here.
I just keep fooling myself, thinking I have a chance, and every time I lose.
Reset, reload the same dumb optimism, and boom, reality smacks me right in the face.
I swallow hard and speak quietly. "I’ll talk to him. I’ll smooth everything over. I swear, I won’t let him suspect anything. I just want him safe, sir!"
"No secret notes written on your palm. No whispering in his ear. No typing out messages on his phone. If you really love him, if you want him and the rest of your precious little family to live, you’ll calm him down and give him zero reason to come back here anytime in the next few weeks."
"Few weeks?"
The way he says it sounds like a deadline. Like that’s how long I have to stay alive. What happens after that, I have no clue.
College starts mid-September. There’s no way I’ll be able to keep pretending I’m living in the dorm once classes begin. If I don’t show up, my parents will find out sooner or later.
Is that the deadline Anzo means?
But weirdly, it’s also kind of comforting, like maybe I’ve got almost two months to figure something out. Some way out of this that doesn’t end with me in a black trash bag.
"I promise I’ll smooth it over, Sir," I whisper, lowering my head.
Anzo grunts approvingly and steps back.
"Now get your ass back to your room. Summer and I have a few things to take care of."
He flashes me a disgusting smile.
I leave the room, but before I go, I glance over at Summer. His head’s bowed, like always. We still haven’t made eye contact, not once. But somehow, I know. I know that whatever’s about to happen to him fills him with despair.
We both have our own versions of hell.
***
The next morning, I wake up feeling like my whole body’s been through a shredder. It’s a kind of pain I’ve never known before. Sure, I work out. I hit the gym, keep my abs and ass in top shape. I jog. But I’ve never been the kind of guy to push myself too hard.
This? This is the next level. Every muscle feels torn apart. My shoulders are on fire. My ribs ache. My hip hurts. My face still stings.
Damn… what a mess.
There’s a small bathroom attached to my room, so I drag myself in for a shower. I let the warm water run down my battered body, but it doesn’t do much. Because this pain isn’t just physical. As cliché as it sounds, what’s eating me from the inside is worse.
While waiting for breakfast, I stare out the window. The gardener’s out there again, working. Weird, but it kinda looks like he notices me the moment I step up to the glass.
Dude’s huge, like heavyweight-wrestler huge. What’s a guy like that doing gardening? If I were built like him, I’d be in the military or cage fighting…
Wait. No. Stop. Rewind. I’d be sitting at home living a boring-ass life. Yeah. Lesson learned.