Chapter 18 #2
She clutched my hand. “Happy birthday, Enzo.”
Happy birthday. The dreaded words struck me like a physical blow.
A cold sweat slicked my spine. My tie, comfortable moments before, now constricted my airflow like a noose.
I ripped my hand from hers, fumbling at the knot, desperate for air.
I could hear them… their taunts, their laughter .
The flickering candles amplified the room’s stuffiness. Every breath I drew was short, uneven.
Gemma’s smile faltered. “Enzo?” Her voice trembled.
“Who told you?” The accusation emerged harsher than intended.
Her expression paled at the sharp edge of my voice. “The maid left our marriage certificate on my dresser last night. I noticed your birth date.”
Lucio, lingering back, muttered a curse under his breath.
A shout lodged in my throat. I stabbed a finger toward the cake, my voice raw. “Get rid of it. Now.” Every cell in my body screamed for escape. The impulse to rage consumed me, so I stormed for the library before I did something I’d regret.
My hand trembled as I grasped the cool, heavy glass of the decanter, the crystal clinking as I poured the golden liquid.
Downing the drink in one go, I refilled another.
Gemma’s words echoed in my head. Happy birthday, Enzo.
The sweet sound repeated, morphing into younger, whinnier echoes of voices chanting the same.
A cackle of female laughter exploded through my head, the manic sound of that one particular nun ushering the memory of flickering candles too close to my face, the heat burning my chin… .
I rubbed at my temples, dispelling the throbbing ache.
Don’t blame Gemma. Not her fault . Instead, I read into the intention of her small, kind act.
Isn’t this what we wanted… for Gemma to care about me?
For her to fall in love with me? Then why did her kindness tear me up inside?
I sank to the carpet and banged my head into the back of the armchair.
Revenge. It had always been the driving force; the shadow stretching across my entire life.
It had been my ticket to freedom, freedom from that horrible place that still haunted my nightmares.
Taking another swig, the burning liquid did little to soothe the cold dread gripping my heart.
How could I hurt Gemma when I cared, too?
She was meant to be meaningless. A step to reach my goal.
But she was much more than a means to an end.
She was too good for me, and I’d never be good enough for her.
I’d never be enough… just like I wasn’t enough for my mother.
As the liquor burned a path down my throat, a different fire ignited in my mind, a sharp and brutal memory. No matter how much I shewed away the images, or how many deep breaths I exhaled, the birthday I buried deep within the recesses of my mind surfaced….
“Are we almost there?” Lucio cheered in the backseat.
I itched to see the theme park and squinted out the window. We traveled a long way from home, perhaps the longest trip we’d ever taken. No rollercoaster, or Ferris wheel yet. A nervous flutter tickled my stomach.
Mamma said we’d go to a theme park to celebrate my birthday.
I guess this meant she was no longer mad at me.
She hadn’t looked at me since I shot the scary man, and she hadn’t talked about it since coming home from the hospital.
She’d battled a long recovery, and the nanny cared for us while she’d remained in the hospital.
I didn’t think Mamma wanted to celebrate my birthday because ever since she’d arrived home, she cried nonstop. I think she missed Papa.
She indicated a right down a street onto a wide, dirt path. I bit my lip and slapped the dashboard. No rollercoaster or Ferris wheel, but Mamma always kept her promises.
The sign above the black gate read ‘Orphanage.’ Why stop here?
Maybe she wanted to donate old clothes or something?
The automatic black gate opened, and we drove onto the estate.
The air grew colder, heavy with the scent of dust and something else.
.. something like disinfectant and despair.
She killed the engine outside a looming building, its many windows like cold, unblinking eyes.
Lucio’s laughter faded in the backseat. Now he stared out the window, face twisted and lower lip pouting. “This place isn’t fun.”
Mamma scowled, not glancing at either of us. “Mamma,” I whispered. Please look at me .
Several people marched out of the building, advancing toward our car. Their long dark robes matched the sudden gloom in my chest. Breath panted out of my lips in a panic.
“Look, ninjas!”
I shot a look back at my younger brother. His laughing smile vanished as one man cranked open his door and hauled him outside. “Mamma! Enzo!” he squealed through his tears.
“Ma!” I screamed, gripping and shaking her arm. “Help! They’ve taken Lucio.” It felt like I shook an unresponsive rag-doll. Her skin felt cold, distant. She paid me no heed, her face down in her lap, staring into another world.
Another man swung open my door. I kicked at his chest, my foot catching and snapping the long, wooden rosary resting against his torso. Brown beads exploded in all directions, some rolling over the car seat.
Others came to join him, their calloused grips pinning my arm and legs, dragging me out of the car. How could she just sit there, not even blinking?
I swallowed at the daunting building before me, the sound of crunched gravel beneath their marching feet a soundtrack of my doom. I squinted at the sad, tiny faces staring out the window from the top floor. Was this a prison for children? Could Mamma have handed me over after what I’d done?
“Ma!” I bellowed over my shoulder, my ears ringing from the piercing sound. I squirmed and wriggled, unable to break free.
She owned a gun. Why not stop them? I kicked and screamed the entire way to the entrance.
The purr of the engine straightened my spine.
No. It can’t be . Glancing over my shoulder again, my gaze befell my worst fear.
Mamma reversed, turning back onto the long driveway.
“Mamma!” The lump in my throat threatened to choke me.
How could she turn and go? “Don’t leave us here!
Come back!” Sobs escaped with my desperate screams, determined to have her hear me.
“I’m sorry!” My panic increased as she neared the black gate, leaving me trembling.
“Please, Mamma,” my shout deflated to a whisper.
“I’m sorry I killed the man,” my voice cracked.
“I’ll be a good boy. Come back! Come back! ”
My chest ached, a cold, empty space where hope used to live.
Some memories refused to stay buried, their tendrils wrapping around my heart, threatening to drag me back into the darkness.
The orphanage. The silence after the gate slammed shut.
It shouldn’t matter. I was stronger now, in control.
But as I stared into the amber liquid in my glass, I couldn’t shake the feeling of entrapment. Then, I took another drink.