Chapter 23 #2
He toasted some bread on the stove. “My grandfather died during my senior year of high school. I think without him, Matteo lost a figure of authority that kept him in check. Later that summer, after I graduated, Matteo’s wife vanished completely.
I never saw her again. He made comments about her leaving to run away with another man, but it didn’t feel right.
Her belongings, the type you wouldn’t just leave, were at his house when the family visited, and her car was even in the garage.
” Gray looked frustrated, his usually bright face sallow as he stirred the cooking eggs.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed.
He hummed. “She was nice. I remember that much. She just fell victim to love with the wrong man.”
I sat up, pulling the blankets tighter around myself and holding my coffee mug in both hands.
“As that summer progressed, my uncles fought over who should take control of the business. I still thought it was just a financial firm, but as the situation escalated, my father revealed the true nature of our family business to me just days before my eighteenth birthday. It was a shock to discover that my father wasn’t who I had always believed him to be.
In my eyes, he seemed to tarnish overnight. ”
“Did you have to be a part of the family crime business, then? Like, was there an option not to join?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, you don’t get a choice, especially as I was the only son of three kids.
My dad, for whatever it’s worth, hated the familial expectations of organized crime; he was open about that much, at least, but told me there was little he could do about it if he wanted to keep us safe.
He explained that when he was my age and learned the truth, he hated it, but eventually came to appreciate the business.
It’s a world where you’re either in or out.
There’s no grey space. I suppose at some point you detach yourself from the reality of it, though I never understood how they could do that. ”
I frowned. And here I’d thought Gray wasn’t giving me any options by keeping me here. He had even fewer.
“Eventually, my father, being the oldest, took over. After that, Matteo became angry and resentful. I guess he felt he was more qualified, tougher, stronger, and had a better head for that sort of thing. Maybe he was right.” He shrugged.
“Matteo was a narcissist, and that’s the personality needed to lead a successful crime family sometimes.
My dad, however, had no patience for that kind of unpredictable rage.
I remember overhearing a phone call between them one night that ended with my father essentially disowning Matteo and kicking him out of the business, and effectively, the family. ”
Gray grabbed a few plates, scooping up the eggs and placing the toast on top. He walked toward me, a plate in each hand, looking like a tortured god delivering DoorDash. He handed me one plate before turning and sitting beside me. I faced him, our plates resting on our laps.
“Weeks went by, and the incidents with Matteo escalated. Threatening notes appeared on our doorstep, tires were slashed, and bricks were thrown through our windows. This was the rudimentary, gang-like activity my father and grandfather strongly disapproved of in our business. I suppose they believed in being ‘civilized amidst chaos to avoid becoming monsters,’ or some similar sentiment.”
“My father, needing to strategize, started confiding in me more and more, often summoning me to his office in the evenings. He began speaking of a growing divide among the men within the organization. Apparently, some of the crew defected to Matteo’s more brutal and haphazard methods of operation.
” He let out a sigh. “Looking back, it’s so clear what was unfolding.
Matteo was seizing control of the family business through force, offering the more unscrupulous members a chance to operate as they pleased.
” He pushed his plate away, uneaten, and folded his hands in his lap.
I took a bite of toast.
When he continued, I knew we’d reached the climax of his story.
“Then everything imploded,” he said. “I remember being in the den with my dad, talking things over, learning, when the lights in the house went out. For a moment, the world was silent until the gunfire began. Windows shattered, glass flying like tiny knives all around the room. Missile flares flew in through the windows, bathing the house in an eerie glow of fiery light. Curtains caught fire, and one flare struck me here.” He pointed to his right upper chest and shoulder, where I’d seen a quarter-sized wound.
“It went in and lodged, burning out the back like a torch.”
I dropped my fork, gasping. It explained the scar on his back, the burnt webbing, and its size. I couldn’t imagine that kind of relentless pain.
“It kept burning, even soaked in my blood,” he said grimly.
“I had to push it the rest of the way through with my fingers. But that wasn’t the worst part.
I heard my mother and sisters screaming amidst my agony, and my father ran from the room to go to them.
I remember the relief I felt when the flare fell to the floor, only to be replaced by horror when I watched my father get blown back by a shotgun a step outside the office doors.
He was dead before he hit the ground. I remember seeing his lifeless feet through the doorway, barely visible in the flickering light of the flares. It all happened so quickly.”
I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm. He placed his other hand on top of mine, accepting the comfort I offered.
“My mother and sisters were dragged into the den, over my father’s dead body.
All the men wore masks, except Matteo. One by one, he slit my sisters’ throats amidst their screams, forcing me to watch as two men held me back.
There was zero hesitation, no grand speech or drawn-out moment where I could stop it. ”
He hung his head, but pushed on. “The sounds of their dying screams... I can never forget. Only after my sisters were dead did Matteo finally say something. He mentioned betrayal and how all of this was deserved. I can’t recall the entire speech; my world was ending before my very eyes, but that was the gist of it. ”
He sighed, taking a moment to breathe and center himself. “My mother was the last to die, and by then, she was already dead, even if her heart was still beating. She stared, eyes blank, fixed on the dead bodies of my sisters. Matteo shot her in the head before turning the gun on me.”
I squeezed Gray’s arm, trying to keep from crying.
“I was being held back by two big men. I’m not sure what made the man to my right do it, but he must have reconsidered his involvement with Matteo.
There was a split second where I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the sting of the bullet, but it never came.
When I heard the gunshot, instead of pain, the man holding my right arm released me, and I fell.
Opening my eyes, I saw he’d thrown himself in front of the bullet, falling to the ground and breaking the second man’s grip on my right arm to free me.
I don’t know where I found the strength or the presence of mind, but I turned and threw myself through the broken window at our backs, rolling into the bushes. ”
“Oh, Gray!” I almost choked on a sob.
“By that point,” he continued, “my whole body was numb and cut open, but I got up to my feet. I heard sirens and saw flashing lights. I ran. I ran until I couldn’t anymore, and then I ran some more.
I ended up at a gas station. I think I tried to buy bandaids, or something like that.
I was delirious, and I never made it to the register.
I passed out in the aisle, and the clerk called an ambulance.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. The FBI was there.
They asked questions, and I answered them.
In the end, they helped me get here, like witness protection. ”
I blinked furiously. “Did you ever figure out who protected you? Who jumped in front of the bullet and died in your place?”
He shook his head. “No. But I’ll always wonder.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding slowly. “Me too.”
Our eyes locked as we sat knee to knee. He reached out, gently brushing my long, messy bangs back behind my ear. “So, you can see why I might be a little cautious,” he stated, a mirthless laugh escaping to lighten the otherwise dark mood.
I let out a half-hearted snort and wiped at my eyes, stopping a tear before it could fall. “I suppose I can understand your brooding, beastly behavior.”
He wrapped his long, rough fingers around my hand. “I only want to keep you safe. Matteo is not a man one can reason with.”
I squeezed. “Then why in the world did you let me steal that painting from him?” I asked, giving him a gentle shove on the shoulder, making sure it was the one opposite his scar.
“As if there were any way to stop you,” he teased back.
I pouted my lower lip into a frown and sniffled.
“I figured if I didn’t help you with that job, someone else would, and they’d fail,” he said. “I couldn’t stand by and let anyone, man or woman, walk into that lion’s den unprepared. It would have been a slaughter. It had to be me.”
I chuckled. “So, even if I were some ugly troll, you still would have helped me?”
He nodded emphatically. “Absolutely, but I’m also glad you weren’t some ugly troll.
Things got a lot more interesting when I saw you on those cameras.
God, I can’t tell you how long I wondered what you looked like in person after all those nights spent messaging online.
I even used to daydream about what you’d sound like.
I imagined so many things, but never someone like you.
You far surpassed any daydream I could manage. ”
I felt a blush creep up my neck at the admission, dropping his hand and picking at my eggs with the tines of my fork, feeling exposed. “I’m sure you’ve encountered plenty of pretty girls.”
He picked up his plate and managed a bite of toast. “Well, if you count Tallulah, then sure. But other than that, no.”
I let out a laugh.
“She’s my ride or die,” he added. “If you can have Larry, then I can have Tallulah.”
I rolled back with a laugh. Surely I couldn’t have been the first girl he’d been with, though, right? I mean, he knew what he was doing around a female body.
Gray observed my laughter, a piece of toast clutched in his teeth, obscuring his smile. “You’re the only girl I’ve been with, Buttercup.”
My laugh faltered, my eyes widening. “Oh, shit, you were serious.” I sat up straight, my mouth falling open. “No way! No… How?”
His brow furrowed. “How? Look around. It’s not like I can pop into the local bar and pick up a date, or scroll through dating apps for a one-night stand.
We’re over an hour from the nearest town, and I can almost guarantee that person won’t be someone I’d want to date.
Not out here surrounded by Canadian hicks and busted-up hockey players. ”
I burst out laughing again. “But you have two of everything: two chairs, two stools. Surely you’ve had someone out here?” I gestured around.
“Yeah, I have two of everything to make myself feel better, so it’s not so depressing,” he said dryly.
“Then how did you learn…” I raised one brow, my eyes dropping to the ‘manly toolbox’ in his lap.
He hummed. “Books,” he said, low and gravelly.
I smacked his arm again. Jesus. I’d never heard a single word sound so luxurious. Books, I thought. “Well shit. You did your homework.”
He looked both proud and relieved.
“So, you didn’t even have a girlfriend in high school? A kissing friend?” I asked, still astonished.
He shook his head. “Nope. Don’t let my brawn fool you. Back then I was a nerdy twig in honors classes. Girls wanted nothing to do with me.”
I barked out a laugh, trying and failing to picture it.
It was strange to be discussing this, and stranger still to be in this situation.
As much as we’d been through together, we were different people now, starting over like strangers.
I felt shy, unable to reach out and pull him to me, held back by the need to take things slow this time, to do things right.
But God, I wanted him; now more than ever.