34. Vinnie
The wind is knocked from my lungs as I land roughly on top of Sly’s body, the reverberation of the gunshot ringing through my ears. I’m disoriented, but jump when another pop pop radiates through the air.
Sly groans beneath me, having taken the brunt of the fall.
“Are you o—” I start to ask, but the bloodcurdling sounds of my father screaming my brother’s name stops me mid-sentence.
Ripping my eyes from Sly, I scurry to my feet, swaying slightly from the pounding in my head.
Through the open doors, Joseph’s lifeless body lies on the ground as blood begins to pool around him. His head is turned toward me, eyes still open. My father stands over him, horror-stricken, repeating “no” over and over.
Unable to control it, I double over in pain. Physical pain from the nausea that immediately rolls through my stomach, and the overwhelming grief that slams into me, realizing my brother is gone.
I scream, an agonizing, soul-wrenching scream.
For him.
For myself.
For the relationship with my brother that started off perfect and ended with such hatred from him, I refused to accept it.
“Vinnie,” Sly’s voice cuts through the noise. Grabbing my shoulders, he rights me, then places his hands on either side of my face. “Breathe, amore mio,” he says frantically, searching my eyes wildly, then skimming down my body. “Are you hurt? Were you hit?”
“No,” I sob, at the same time, he yells, “WE NEED A MEDIC IN HERE!”
“I’m okay, Sly. I wasn’t hit. I’m okay,” I say through tears.
“You’re okay?” he asks again, tears streaming down his face.
“I’m okay,” I repeat, trying to catch my breath as sobs rack through my body.
Sinking to his knees, he squeezes my midsection tight, crying against my stomach before he presses soft kisses to it.
My breath catches in my throat.
“Grazie Dio,” he cries, hugging me close. “Te amo, piccola ladra. So much it hurts.”
My fingers weave through his hair, and I bend, kissing the top of his head. “I love you.”
“LET ME THROUGH, MY DAUGHTER IS IN THERE,” my father yells and comes rushing through the doors, Luciano right behind him.
Our gaze meets and I watch as his face morphs into varying emotions as he takes in the sight of me and Sly—him on his knees, pressing his lips to my stomach. I wonder if he’s putting the pieces together.
My brother stands behind him, a relieved smile on his face as he sees that we’re okay. I return it with a weak smile of my own until I look back at my father and see his relief has turned into pain as a guttural groan pushes past his lips.
Just when I thought I couldn’t break any more than I already have, my father’s hand moves to rest over his heart, his fingertips digging into the fabric of his shirt as his face contorts into agony.
Then he collapses.