Chapter 18 Allesandro
Stripping off my shirt, I pause my workout. I’ve already completed one circuit on the equipment, but while my body is beginning to tire, my mind is not. Gearing up, I head to the punching bag.
I wish Ignacio was here to spar with, I think, hating the feeling of guilt that chases that thought. I didn’t lie to Cristian. It was his right to make the decision he did, but fuck. My Boys…
I give the bag several jabs before a side-kick. My mind ruminates on the issues hanging over my head. Part of me is impressed with Marcus. With all the training I poured into him, it’s an accomplishment that he managed to pull my supplier away from me. But fuck. That’s a hard hit to take.
I follow up with a couple of cross punches, visualizing my suppliers—or ex-suppliers, I suppose.
It might be best to remind the cartel that Marcus is the reason several of their members are dead…
except, fuck. That may end with Marcus being killed, and that would be such a fucking waste.
I still plan on getting my Boys back, and I want them alive when that happens. Even fucking Benjamin.
Emilio would never forgive me if something happened to his best friend, and despite my hasty words, I know I can’t kill the thorn in my side. I just need to figure out a way to manage the situation—after I get my Family back.
Growling, I step up the punches and kicks until sweat is pouring off me, interfering with my vision.
Emilio… Fuck. That’s the biggest issue. I shouldn’t have crossed that line with Cristian.
We both needed the connection, and my Sweetheart was willing to give himself over to me.
But…fuck. I hate this sticky dark feeling.
Emilio and I have never had a closed relationship, yet it feels like I fucking cheated on him. Was it that way with him and Hollis? Did his system revolt in the beginning? Or fuck, did he not even care? While I sat there trying to keep Cristian and me alive…
The bag splits under the pressure from my next jab and I stumble back, collapsing onto the mat. I draw my knees to my chest and hang my head down, taking deep pulls of air that burn my lungs. Fuck. It’s no longer sweat that is dripping down, it's tears.
“Are you finished with your tantrum, Nipote?”
I scrub at my face, desperately trying to hide the evidence of my weakness. I clear my throat, trying to push away the lump that seems to want to choke me. Raising my eyes, I stare at my uncle as he drags a chair in front of me before sitting.
“There’s no tantrum, Zio. I was working out.”
“Ah. I never took you for a liar. Then again, I never thought I’d live to see you become your father, either.” His mournful stare hits me hard, but I shake my head, refusing his assertion. “You want to argue that? Despite almost all of your Boys having left?”
“They’ll be back.” I squeeze my hands into fists. The punching bag may have been a sacrifice to my issues, but it didn’t calm me nearly enough.
My uncle just sighs, running his fingers through hair that’s steadily turned white over the years, especially since losing my aunt. “And if they don’t?”
“Then I’ll go get them,” I spit out. “I’ll throw them in the black room, if I need to make one.”
Snorting, my uncle eyes me with pity. “That will no longer work. You know better. I’ve seen your Boys grow. I’ve heard how they all worked together to find you and Cristian. It’s impressive—and it could be to your credit, if you stop fucking up.”
I scramble to my feet, unwilling to take this sitting down. “That’s bullshit. And what did they do? Fall for other people. Break up. Betray us.”
“Us?” my uncle says lightly, and I narrow my eyes at him. “Ah, you must mean Cristian.”
“Yes. He is mine. Even though the Boys have chosen to be disloyal, he is here with me. I have him.”
I stumble back when my uncle starts to laugh.
“Sei un idiota! You don’t have Cristian.
You have a burning man. The feelings that are there aren’t real.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore than you do.
You think because you faced something together that you owe each other?
Idiota. Your Boys have stood by you for far longer, and yet you’re turning your back on them. Fedeltà. Have you forgotten that?”
“I’ve forgotten nothing! This should have worked out. I can have both Cristian and my Boys.”
“I see nothing will get through to you.” My uncle stands and frowns at me. “Perhaps I may leave you with a question.”
“I have more questions than answers at this point. I don’t need anymore.” He huffs at my sulky tone, but it’s the fucking truth.
“Your aunt… Ask yourself this. What if I treated her the way you treated Emilio?” He pauses to let that sink in. “And then, what if I took up with another woman…one who showed no loyalty to her husband or child? What would you do?”
With that, he turns and slowly makes his way out of the gym. I stand still, staring yet unseeing my surroundings, as I work through his questions. And when I have my answer, I fall forward onto my knees.
Fuck. I would have killed him… There would have been nothing left, not even fucking ashes. So why the fuck did that give me the right to take from Emilio, from my Boys, what isn’t mine? To repay their loyalty like this… Is he right about Cristian?
More questions. And the only answer that comes to me is one word: Death.