20. Mario
20
MARIO
A glance at my phone reveals it’s nearing four a.m. and Alice is still sleeping soundly. She’s been out for twelve hours now, totally worn out by everything. I left her side only for a short time to speak with Ervine about my concerns regarding my brother. Ervine has placed men on all sides of this church now, all of them watching the comings and goings of parishioners to ensure none of my brother’s men show up here. It’s the only reason I’ve been able to rest peacefully for the past few hours.
Now I lie awake hovering over Alice’s sleeping form, watching her chest rise and fall. She’s so beautiful. So perfect. I’ve wrestled within myself for days about how I’ve let her get to my heart, how I’ve let her in. When it was just me against the world, everyone was suspect. But Alice came into my life and changed that. I’ve always believed I had to run as fast as I could, as far as I could in the direction opposite my past to get away from it. But what if the answer is much simpler?
What if the answer isn’t about running away, but instead the answer is to stand? To look death in the face, that menacing, dark creature that chases me day and night, and resist it. This stand I’m taking against my brother, which will go down any moment now, is one that I need to take. To run is cowardly, and though I didn’t run far, the hiding I’ve been doing for years was akin to it. Cowardice is as the sin of disbelief, only it wasn’t God that I withheld my faith from.
It was me.
I stopped believing that I could make a difference. My attempts to change the flow, to stymie the tides and turn back the waves, seemed for naught. Maybe I never made a difference, or maybe over time my influence would have changed everything, shifted my brother’s thinking. Today, I have a chance to make that stand and be that change. I’ve always had this chance. But I never believed in myself the way Alice believes in me, not until I saw the way she looks at me.
Her eyes flutter, and she rolls over, tucking herself into my chest. I put an arm around her again, kissing her forehead. I never knew how it felt to care about a woman so deeply you’d lay your life down until I met her. And love at first sight has always been a fairy tale, something of myths and fictional books, but I know now that I have the capacity for love so deep it will overwhelm her and she will never leave me. But should I show her this love, she will stay, and do I really want this for her? This life, where I’m headed?
“Good morning,” she mewls against my chest, and I feel her arms wriggle beneath the covers until she’s holding me.
“Did you sleep okay?” I ask, but I know she didn’t. Not until the past few hours as I woke and watched her. She was restless, tossing and murmuring in her sleep, probably having nightmares.
“Have I ever told you how stunning you are?” My lips press kisses to her temple and her cheek. The way her eyelashes land butterfly kisses on my bare chest tickles, but I don’t back away.
“Hmm, I don’t think so.” Alice squirms and tangles her legs with mine, and I hold her more tightly. “But I like it a lot.”
“You should, because it’s true,” I say, my voice gruff with sleep and emotion as I nuzzle her hair. She smells so sweet and inviting .
“Mmm, you’re right. I should,” she agrees with a yawn, her body deflating against mine. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Four a.m. You can rest more if you’re tired.” My hand finds her bare thigh, and I rub reassuringly. This is the only peace I’ll get for the whole day until dusk, when I’ll return to this warmth again. That is if my supplier is on time and I’m not ambushed.
“No, I’m fine,” she mumbles, but her eyes have already closed. She trusted me enough to sleep in my arms. Me, of all people. But then she knows so little of my former life, how evil I really am at my core. Those thoughts have tormented me for years, but last night, they were worse than ever.
I close my eyes and memorize her scent, the warmth of her body against mine, the way her heartbeat aligns with mine. We can’t do this forever, but I want to stretch this moment out for eternity, encapsulate it in time and remember every second of it, every breath. My lips press on her forehead again, and she sighs and turns her chin up until her lips meet mine. Her lips are soft, yielding, pliant, and so damn sweet. I can’t get enough of her taste. I lose myself in her, forgetting who I am and where we are. Alice is all that matters. She’s my rock, my sanity, and my humanity in the sea of darkness that is my life.
I trail a hand down her perfect curves, memorizing every inch of her. Her nightgown slides off her body like silk, leaving her bare before me. I drink in the sight of her pale skin illuminated by the moonlight and my eyes. She’s a goddess risen from the heavens to save me from myself, an angel sent to redeem me. My hungry gaze roams over her flawless figure, from her ample breasts with their hard nipples to her slim waist and long legs. She’s a work of art, and I’m undeserving of touching her. My fingers trace along her collarbone and down between her breasts, eliciting a shudder from her.
“God, you're so beautiful,” I whisper against her ear as I nip her earlobe, and I feel myself swelling, my dick growing hard. “Alice.” I growl her name against her heated skin as my cock aches to be inside her sweet heat, claiming her as mine. She moans and arches into me.
“Mario,” she groans, her hands in my hair, dragging me down to her. I don’t need any more encouragement. Our mouths collide, and our tongues dance in a waltz of lust and need, exploring each other without restraint.
I kneel on the bed and pull her toward me, kissing a trail down from her jaw, along her neck, until I reach her breasts. I take one nipple into my mouth, sucking gently at first and then with more force until she moans. I tease and nibble and suckle the sensitive buds until they are hard and straining against my tongue. Her scent invades my nostrils, drugging me like nothing else. All my senses are on overdrive, every touch, every sound, every scent amplified in the quiet of the night.
Alice pulls at my shorts, desperate to feel my bare skin on hers. We strip each other of our remaining clothes in a rush, revealing our naked bodies to the cool air of the night and each other's heated gaze. I inhale her scent, all warm woman and desire as she spreads her legs, letting me nestle between her thighs.
“I want you so badly,” I growl, lining my hard cock with her wet entrance. “I need to be inside you, Alice. Make me whole again,” I plead, not recognizing the desperate edge in my voice. She nods, her eyes glazed over with lust and trust.
She spreads her legs wider, rocking her hips up so I can see the moisture along her slit. I rub the head of my dick up and down those beautiful lips, tempting her, teasing her, and she pants and reaches for my girth. “Please, in me…” she moans, but I hold out until she really begs. “Fuck me now, Mario.”
With one smooth movement, I enter her, sheathing myself inside her moisture. We both groan at the contact, bodies melded as one. She's hot and so damn tight around me, like she was made just for me. Our hips start to move in sync, slow at first but picking up the pace until we are lost in each other, bodies crashing together in a primal rhythm.
“Mario.” She moans my name like a prayer as her nails dig into my back, urging me on. I oblige her silently, plunging deeper and harder into her depths, claiming every inch of her that I can possibly take. She responds in turn by arching her hips to meet my thrusts, her inner muscles squeezing me in a vise-like grip. I can feel our orgasms building, rising like a tidal wave.
“I'm close, Alice,” I manage to gasp out between pants. “God, I’m so close.”
“Me too, don't stop, please don't stop,” she begs, her voice a frenzied whisper in my ear. I’m too worked up to stop, too needy and hungry for this moment, to be joined with her again in pleasure.
“God, you feel so good, baby, so damn good,” I moan as I can feel the coil in my balls tighten. The pressure is so intense, I feel it in my eyes, pulsing and demanding to be released.
“Mario, oh, God, yes!” she cries out moments later, her body tensing around mine as her climax washes over her. Her pussy milks me relentlessly, and I can't hold back any longer. With a primal roar, I let go, filling her with my essence, our combined scents mingling in the air.
Spent, we collapse on the bed, both of us struggling to catch our breaths. Her soft whimpers echo in my ears as we lie there, entwined in each other's arms.
“I love you,” she whispers into my ear, her voice muffled by the linen-scented sheets. I hear the emotion in her tone, though, the pain of admitting what she’s just said.
“I love you, too,” I respond, my heart aching with the weight of our confessions. Guilt is something my father would have said makes me weak, but this guilt is righteous, making me see how dangerous this game is for her, how I’ve inadvertently lured her deeper than she wanted to go and how my heart longs to keep her here longer than she wants to stay.
“So, what happens now?” she asks after a while, her voice tentative.
“I don't know,” I admit, running a hand through her hair. “But I know that I don't ever want to let you go.” A silence stretches between us, fraught with unspoken words and the knowledge of the precariousness of our situation. I turn my head to look at her, and our eyes meet. Hers are a kaleidoscope of emotions—fear, longing, and resolve. Before she can put voice to those fears, I move, climbing out of bed and finding my clothes. “I have to get a few things done.” The stinging guilt of my conscience needs to go away. I need resolution. Absolution. Release.
“When will you be back?” she asks, and a yawn slips out. I knew she was still tired.
“You just rest. Ervine has men on the entire block. I’m not going far.”
Before I’m even dressed to go, she’s sleeping again, micro-snoring to a peaceful rhythm. I place a kiss on her forehead and creep out of the room, locking the door before striding through the rectory toward the back stairs and entrance to the church.
The air is thick with tension as soon as I enter, like it’s been waiting for me. The room is dark save for the glow of a few candles on the altar highlighting the prayers of the parishioners.
“Mario,” the priest says, startled as he turns. “Can I help you with anything?”
I shake my head, moving to the confessional booth in the back. “No, Father Thomas. I just… needed some peace.” My footsteps thump on the hardwood echoing around the large, empty sanctuary. I could do this face to face, but this is the way of the church .
Father Thomas nods, understanding all too well the trials of this line of work. I slip inside the confessional and close the door behind me, sinking to my knees in the dim booth. Moments later, I hear the door on his side open, then shut. He’s there, waiting for me to begin, but I take a moment to collect myself.
“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned… It’s been twenty-two days since my last confession.” The words come out in a rush, a dam gate on a river of self-loathing and blame. I tell him everything, no detail spared—from the night of my father’s death to the drive-by that nearly took my life. I confess the theft, the murder. I confess my guilt and shame, and then I confess to breaking my vow as a priest. By the end, my voice is hoarse. I am spent, my head leaning against the grid that separates us. “I don’t know how to do this anymore, Father.”
Father Thomas clears his throat uneasily. “You know as well as I, Mario, that we are all sinners in the eyes of God. He forgives those who are truly repentant.”
“But how can I expect God to forgive me when I can’t forgive myself?” This is the true test. I’m not sorry for those sins of my past—murder, greed, lust—I’m ashamed of not doing more, not trying harder. Of leaving my people, my Family, to suffer cruelly under my brother’s dominant hand. Guilt that I’ve now dragged Alice into this when I could have helped her leave forever.
“In time, my son,” he says softly. “In time. But first we must deal with the present. Your safety—and Alice’s—is of the utmost importance.”
“I know,” I say wearily. And I agree with him. His past is proof to me that he understands me and my future more clearly than I do right now. I’m blinded by rage and suppressed emotions that have me ready to commit acts of violence.
“Mario!” a voice calls, and my blood runs cold. I know who it is before I even step out of the confessional. I don’t know how he got through the men Ervine set up, but I’m defenseless here, my gun still on the nightstand next to where Alice sleeps peacefully. “Fratellino, come talk to me.”
“Stay here,” I tell Father Thomas, but I don’t need to say a word. I know he will quietly slip out of the confessional booth and move through the back offices toward the rectory where he will rouse Alice and move toward the panic room.
I, however, cannot stay here. If Paolo wants his “little brother” to come out and speak to him, that is what he must have. If for no other reason than for me to distract him long enough for my former brother in arms to get Alice to safety. I rise slowly, sliding the door of the confessional open and stepping into the dim sanctuary.
“Brother…” I’m not dressed for a showdown, just a simple polo and jeans. Paolo is wearing his best suit, so early in the morning too. He’s been planning this a while, probably hoping to catch me off guard. Maybe he did research and knows Thomas isn’t who he says he is now, either. Maybe he planned to cause a scene until I came up here to speak with him.
“This little feud of ours has to end. I know the girl is here. Give her to me and we’ll move on as if nothing happened. You can go back to playing the religious zealot, and I will keep my eyes blind to your betrayal.” Paolo draws a gun from behind his back and turns off the safety, pointing it at my chest. He’s thirty paces away, near the back doors of the sanctuary. He can shoot and run and never get caught. This place has no security cameras.
“Alice is mine, Brother. And she doesn’t have what you’re looking for. You murdered the man who took your money before retrieving it. You can’t blame her for that.” I take a step forward.
While I don’t want to die, I’m prepared for it. The longer I keep Paolo here, the more chance Thomas has of ensuring Alice’s survival. If I fail, she dies. I can’t fail. And I can’t give up. My plan may be ruined, but she can still make it out .
“Oh, how sweet. Little brother has a pet now. You got sick of choir boys?” He chuckles, and I could slit his throat. His vile mind would think something so evil…
“What is it you want, Paolo? Is it the power you crave? You just want to punish me because Father isn’t here to take your anger out on now? You noticed that I got involved and now you’re in this until you feel better?” I’m calm and collected, but Paolo is getting enraged by the second. His mommy issues are so easy to spot, I could point them out from a mile away.
“Fuck you, Mario. You know what? You are nothing to me.”
“I am your blood, Paolo. Go ahead and cut me open. I will bleed into the earth and remind every ancestor who has gone before us that you are coming one day. They will be waiting to avenge me and Father.” I spread my hands, exposing my chest to his aim. “Are you afraid to do it? Do you believe God is watching?” My eyes trace upward to the ceiling, and I see how the stained glass dome above me is beginning to glow, the first traces of dawn illuminating the church’s roof. I close my eyes, preparing, but nothing can prepare me for the jolt of pain.
The gun goes off, deafening me and making my ears ring, and simultaneously, I feel the ton of weight hit my chest. Searing heat burns through my stomach and chest. I stumble backward a few steps and lower my gaze to meet his. The gun is still aimed at me, and his eyes are aglow with fire. The rage of a thousand men burns there in his gaze as he lowers his weapon and shoves it into his pants.
I drop to my knees, gasping for air as I press my hands against my stomach. He would’ve shot my chest, killed me on the spot, but he chose to wound me badly instead. All so he can walk away with Alice and hurt me worse. He’ll come back to finish me off later, but the torment is his aim now.
“You should have just let her confess her sin and walk away, Mario.” He walks over to me as I slump to the ground, lying on my side, looking up at him. He nudges me with his boot, and I roll to my back, feeling the warmth of my blood soaking my clothing and pooling beneath me. “You should have left well enough alone.”
“I’m coming for you…” I choke out, and the taste of metal on my tongue is the last thing I remember.