Chapter 14 Mauro #2
“Vin’s the one who goes out every night,” I say. “I don’t see you giving him a hard time about that.”
He shakes his head. “Your brother will have enough to deal with one of these days. When I’m gone, he’ll be the head of this family, making all the big decisions to keep you, your brothers, sister, and mother safe. That’s when his fun will end. He’s entitled to his time now.”
“And I’m not?”
“No!” he shouts, taking me aback. He looks straight ahead as he voices, “You’ve disappointed me, Mauro.”
A deep, unsettling ache blossoms across my chest as I pull up to the warehouse, putting the SUV into park.
He’s never said those words to me.
I’ve always been his reliable son.
The one he can count on.
But I go out one night with my friends as any normal twenty-one-year-old would, and this is how he sees me?
As a disappointment?
My throat burns as I spit out, “Yeah, well, I never asked to be a part of this life, yet you’ve thrown us all into it with no care for what we want. What kind of father does that?”
His eyes widen, his lips parting. “Mauro—”
“Forget it.” My fingers wrap around the door handle. “The faster we’re finished here, the faster I can get the fuck out of here. Away from you.” I open my door, pausing. “I hate everything about this life, including you.” I step out into the warm night air, slamming the door shut behind me.
My chest feels too tight. My head is too overwhelmed.
Leo and Dolion step out as well, leaning against the vehicle. Leo stares down at his phone with a slight grin on his face, utterly oblivious to the tension fueling around him.
At least Dolion is smart enough to keep his distance, walking away from the car.
My father straightens his tie and strides ahead as if our conversation never happened. Appearing completely unaffected.
And maybe he is.
But I know him.
I know he cares about his family.
I know he loves each of us with everything he has.
Which is why I regret the words I lashed out at him in the heat of the moment. Words that hold no truth.
As he shoves the warehouse door open and steps inside, I take a deep breath and say, “Dad, I’m sorry—”
Boom!
I’m thrown backwards, shards of debris flying everywhere as a sphere of fire soars around me.
“Dad! Mauro!” Leo screams from nearby.
I try to speak. To yell. To shout. To say fucking anything.
But a pain as I’ve never felt before spreads over my neck, burning me from the inside out. Reaching up, I feel it. Blood. Lots of it. I hold out my hand, watching the red liquid drip onto my shirt.
Leo appears at my side, fear coating his eyes.
“Mauro! I’m going to get you out of here.
” He lifts me under my arms, dragging me away from the building.
Ripping off his shirt, he presses it to my throat, and I want to scream out, but a strangled groan is the only thing that escapes me.
He pulls out his phone and speaks forcefully into it.
His words float in one ear and out the other. Nothing makes sense.
He takes my hand and clasps it over the soaked fabric. “Hold this. I’ll be right back. I need to find Dad!”
He jumps up and turns in the direction of the burning building.
My breaths are labored.
My throat feels like it’s about to close up.
I gulp for air.
Clutching at my throat, parting my lips as wide as they’ll go.
But oxygen doesn’t come.
I feel like a fish fighting for its life out of water, gasping for air.
“Mauro!”
Can’t. Breathe.
“Mauro!”
I wake with a sharp gasp, bolting upright in bed, my eyes locked with the biggest pair of beautiful brown eyes I’ve ever seen.
“You were dreaming,” Alina says softly, brushing her fingers tenderly over my temple. “It was just a dream.”
Her pale skin illuminates the dark space, our room lit up by the shimmering full moon. She watches me with concern in her eyes and a tenderness in her touch. The white T-shirt—my T-shirt—she wears clings to her curves as the collar stretches across her shoulder, exposing her skin.
She’s so beautiful, I feel like I have no right to look at her.
“Are you okay?”
I realize I’ve been staring and force my gaze downward. With a slow breath, I let my shoulders fall and drag a hand through my hair before signing, Nightmare.
But it wasn’t a nightmare.
Not really.
Because it was a memory.
One I’ve carried for over seven years since the day everything was taken from me. My voice and my dad.
Gone.
The thought detonates in my chest, stealing the air from my lungs, my throat burning with everything I never got to take back.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Her hand slides from my neck to the center of my chest, resting there as if she can steady the chaos beneath her palm. “Your heart is beating so fast.”
Breathing in a lungful of air, I place my hand over hers and tap my finger twice, waiting for my body to calm down.
After a minute, I reach over and switch on the lamp. I grab the notepad and pen from my nightstand, settle them in my lap, and write quickly before I lose the nerve.
I dreamt about the day I lost my father. It’s a nightmare I have more often than I’d like to admit. I’m sorry I woke you.
She shakes her head, dropping her hand to her lap.
“Don’t be sorry. I was having a hard time sleeping anyway, so I was reading.
” She gestures a hand toward the eBook device on her nightstand.
A beat of silence passes between us before she says, “I’m sorry you have to live with that memory.
I can’t imagine the weight of it on your shoulders after all this time. ”
I look off, staring out into the darkness across the mountains.
Every time I’ve had this dream, I’ve woken up alone, hating myself for those words I said to my father.
I would fill up with guilt and shame, spending the rest of the night wondering if I truly was a disappointment in his eyes.
I would let the darkness consume me. I never had someone on the other side of the bed beside me.
Someone I could talk to. To let it all out.
But for the first time—I glance at Alina—I’m not alone.
I write, Sometimes, I dream of the actual explosion. Other times, I dream I’m trapped with no air, unable to breathe. The experience changed the way I feel in crowds and small spaces. It’s like I can’t get enough oxygen into my lungs. So, I’ve become more cautious of my surroundings.
She nods with sympathy in her eyes. “That’s completely understandable. What you went through was terrible. Awful. Something that would stay with you forever, whether you want it to or not.”
I press the tip of the pen to the paper.
My father was a good man. He was always looking out for his family.
Always doing whatever he could to keep us safe.
But right before he died, we got into an argument.
He told me he was disappointed in me, and it hurt.
It hurt so much I lashed out at him, and one of the last things I told him was that…
I hesitate, my pen hovering over the page before I write, I hate him.
Those were the last words I said to him, and I’ve never been able to forgive myself.
“Oh, Mauro.” She places her warm palm on my cheek, grazing her hand across my scruff.
My eyes close as I lean into her touch, into the comfort I don’t feel worthy of.
I don’t deserve her. “Your father knew you loved him. One little argument wouldn’t affect the years you two shared.
I saw the way he looked at you. At all of his children.
You five were everything to him.” I open my eyes, seeing a small smile grace her face. “Besides your mother, of course.”
I grin. My parents’ love was something you would read about in books. It was unconquerable. Fully consuming. Something anyone would strive to achieve.
“And Mauro,” she says as tears pool in her eyes. “He loved you so much. Nothing you said could have ever taken that away.”
It’s like a restraint inside me shatters.
A chain that had me bolted down for years releases its hold over me.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel…free.
I reach out, running my thumb under her eye, catching the first tear that drops.
Without thinking… Without overanalyzing… I lean in and press my lips to hers. It’s slow and gentle. Like something steady enough to quiet the ache in my chest.
If only for this moment.
Pulling away, I clear my throat and say, “Thank…you.”
She gazes down at her hand, twisting her wedding band. “I can handle your demons, Mauro,” she whispers. “And I will help you see the light again, even if it’s the last thing I do. You’re not alone anymore.”
Her arms slide around my shoulders as she settles onto my lap, her head buried into the crook of my neck.
I hold her just as tightly, unwilling to leave even a sliver of space between us.
We stay like that for minutes or maybe hours, wrapped in a warm embrace I didn’t know I needed.
And for the first time in a long while, the weight on my chest vanishes.
Because she’s here.
The missing piece to my life I never knew I needed.
And as her breathing evens, her body growing slack against mine, I realize something dangerous.
For the first time, I don’t feel like I’m facing the darkness alone.