sixteen
“So… are we gonna talk like civil gentlemen, or do we have to make this hurt?”- Leo
After sitting in the stairwell for a few minutes, I’m finally able to collect myself.
I haven’t felt like that since I was a young child, and I don't have time for this shit.
I have weighed all of my options in my head, but the ache in my chest is still there.
As much as I try to ignore it—to lock it in a box along with every other emotion revolving around my family—the pressure doesn't ease.
I take a deep breath, then another, readying myself. I kiss my lion's head pendant and tuck it back down into my collar. I slowly get off the floor, running my fingers through my hair. I shake my hands, stretching my neck and rolling my shoulders, as if I’m preparing to run a marathon.
Once I am more put together, I step out of the stairwell, hoping the panic I felt isn’t written all over my face. I immediately spot Daron holding on to Violet as if he is afraid, she will run. If she's smart, she would.
“What did he say?” Daron asks as soon as I am within earshot. My heart stops beating at his question. Nausea surges all over again as my lungs constrict for air. I force a deep breath, then another. Daron looks concerned but doesn't say anything as he waits for my answer.
“Get out of here, Violet,” I finally say on a sigh.
I can’t do it. I cannot follow through with Peadar’s order.
I would never be able to sleep at night.
My heart feels lighter with this decision, as if it is about to float away.
If Peadar finds out I let her go, he will kill me.
There is no doubt in my mind, but I will gladly trade my life for my sister's.
“What?” she asks, gray eyes roaming over my face. Before she can ask anything else, I cut her off.
“Hide. Don’t tell anyone you saw us. Lay low. Get out of the city. Just don’t come anywhere near here again. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she nods, her eyes wide as if she wasn’t expecting me to say that.
I close my own, flashbacks of our mother surfacing.
She looks so much like her it’s painful.
My mom has darker hair, but other than that, the similarities between her and Violet are startling.
I look a lot like our mom too, but I have learned to deal with the feeling of betrayal every time I look in the mirror.
I have come to accept it, but this is much more difficult. I was not prepared.
“Good. Give me your phone.” I hold out my hand.
She doesn't hesitate, placing her phone in it.
I talk as I type, “You haven’t seen me since I was fourteen. Do not forget that. Leave the city as soon as you can. It’s not safe anymore. This is my phone number. One that’s safe. Call it if you are ever in trouble. That’s the only reason you are to ever call. It has to be an emergency.
A woman named Kiki might answer it. If she does, tell her who you are, and that you are looking for me. She will get the message to me. Do you understand that?”
Violet’s eyes are wide with the influx of information.
I know I’m talking quickly, my tone lacking any encouragement, but I’m running out of time.
I’m saving her life, but I’m also damning her.
Unless she leaves the city for good, she will always have to be incognito or she will die, and I will die with her.
I am gambling with my own life right now, but I cannot kill her.
“I never forgot you, Lele. I’m so sorry for what he did…” Violet starts, her bottom lip trembling as her face twists with anguish. I cannot handle this right now. We’re wasting precious time.
When Violet slams her body against mine, hugging me close, I wrap my arms around her, breathing her in.
“Shh. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Even though she’s wearing Daron’s jacket, she smells so much like our mom, I can’t decide if I want to push her away or hug her tighter.
I hold my breath and close my eyes, forcing the memories back into the box I keep tucked away in the dark recesses of my mind.
“Thank you, Lele. Thank you.” She cries into my shoulder.
I pet her hair for a few minutes, opening my eyes to find Daron staring at us.
I can’t quite decide if Daron looks worried or pitying.
It may be a combination of both. I break eye contact, forcing myself to pull back. I grab Violet’s shoulders.
“Go. Now,” I order, and that’s all she needs. She mouths, “I love you” to me then she’s gone, running down the stairs. A large bruise stains the back of her thigh as she retreats, a grim marker of the moment I interrupted.
I stare at the spot she left for several moments, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. By letting her go, I signed my death certificate. I’d gladly do it again. When we were kids, I protected her from our father. I will continue to protect her now– from Peadar. From myself.
After my eyes start to feel dry, I blink them back into focus and take a deep breath, then another, mentally preparing myself for what I have to do. I light a cigarette as I walk into the room, Daron following behind.
I take a moment to feel the rage simmering in my system, allowing it to numb me. Extreme hot and cold are very similar in the way that they can both burn. I felt like I was burning, as if acid was running rampant in my veins, the rage pushing it through my bloodstream, but now, I feel cold.
I walk into the room, finding De Luca tied up on a chair, Fletcher standing behind him. He has an item of clothing over his lap, but I can clearly tell he’s tenting it, his dick still hard beneath it.
“Well boys, looks like Altieri can’t get good help these days... even his right hand man is just another shit stain. Limp dick syndrome has him popping pills just to rape the help.” My icy tone drags the temperature down to near arctic levels.
I don’t move at first.
De Luca stares at me. His expression is bored, as if he’s watching paint dry.
I cross the room to my bag, laying haphazardly on the rumbled bed. I reach into my bag and slowly remove one object after another. I take my time. Laying each one out on the bed in a straight line.
Once I’m finished, I look around the room, eyes landing on a bottle. I walk over slowly, my steps deliberate. I pick it up, inspecting the label before walking back to De Luca shaking it in my hand.
“Open his mouth,” I instruct.
Fletcher doesn't hesitate. He places his large hand on De Luca’s chin, pushing down.
He then clamps his nose shut with his fingers on his other hand.
I open the bottle and pour half of the bottle of tiny blue pills into De Luca’s mouth.
Fletcher forces his mouth closed while I massage his throat. De Luca involuntarily swallows.
“Are we gonna talk like civil gentlemen, or do we have to make this hurt?”
No answer.
“You were at the docks on the west side the other day.”
De Luca’s eyes narrow and his brows crease for a split second before they raise the tiniest bit. First anger, then surprise which means he knows exactly what day I was referring to. He was surprised that I saw him. Which means, he may not have seen me.
“Yup. I was bird watching.” De Luca smirks.
“Oh… really?” I walk around him, my footsteps quiet on the plush carpet below my feet. “Bet you saw something interesting.” I come to a stop in front of him.
“I might have,” he says, eying me up and down as if he’s trying to decide what I know.
I lean down, looking him in the eyes. “What did you see?” I ask.
“None of your business,” he responds, his eyes hardening as a muscle tightens in his jaw.
I don’t say anything for a full minute. I circle him once. Twice. His eyes don’t follow me. He sits completely still, eyes fixed on the dresser in front of him.
“I asked you a simple question.” My voice is flat.
“Go fuck yourself like I was gonna fuck your sister before you rudely interrupted,” De Luca says.
That does it. Something snaps inside me.
I cross over to the bed. I take in each of my weapons laid out like a smorgas-board.
I run my finger over each one, selecting my favorite knife.
I slowly walk back over to him, picking at my fingernails with the sharp blade.
His eyes finally find me, recognition shattering his features the exact second it registers.
I hold the handle tightly as I bring it down, the shiny blade slicing through the air. De Luca screams when it makes contact with his thigh, shattering the bone and tearing the skin and muscle. I’m careful not to hit the femoral artery. I want him to be in pain, not bleed out… yet.
I leave it embedded in his leg, walking away from him and out of his line of sight. I wasn’t going to react. I wasn’t going to escalate this soon. I have to get a grip on my control, or I am going to fuck up this whole mission.
I breathe quietly, in through my nose out through my mouth. I can’t let him know that mentioning my sister affects me. He’ll use it. I say nothing. Make zero sound. The heat kicks on, the gentle whirring filling up the room. I focus on the sound, allowing it to calm my racing mind.
“You were lookin’ for us,” I say finally from behind him. I walk close to him, standing to his side so he has to turn his head to look at me. He does.
“Yeah… but I didn’t even know I found you,” he confirms after a beat. I squint at him attempting to determine if he’s lying. In the harsh soft light of the room, he looks much older than he had when we first walked in. As if he’s aged two decades in half an hour.
“So, Altieri is trying to find our operation.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement, and my mind races with the information.
“What is Altieri planning once he found us?” I ask.
“If you’re so smart, then you should know,” De Luca responds. I don’t. That’s the problem. But I have a hunch it has something to do with Giuseppe Santos.
“Look… I know you think you're big shit, but you aren’t.” My voice stays level, but it takes everything in me to keep it there. “Once Altieri finds out that we were able to get to you, he’s gonna kill you.”
“He won’t,” he says, but hesitance flickers across his face.
“Yeah, he will. You know it,” I say, my voice calm and sure.
“I’ll survive…” his sentence trails off, as if he’s not so sure.