He looks at me and then chuckles softly. He wipes another tear from his cheek. “I appreciate that.”
“What are brothers for?” I tell him.
“I always wondered what it must have felt like for you to kill a man,” Roberto says. “I never thought it would be so… well, it’s just, the guilt is so super overwhelming.”
“It was different for me,” I admit. “I felt no guilt. It was either kill, or be killed.”
He nods slowly. “Well, I guess we all deal with it our own way.”
“I suppose so,” I agree. “Now come on, get up. Stop wallowing in self-pity. Get back to your routine. Do you best to forget about what happened.”
“I’ll try, bro,” he says.
I squeeze his shoulder again. “Good. That’s all I can ask for. Let’s get some breakfast.” When he doesn’t move, I shove him. “Breakfast, bro.”
“Breakfast,” he agrees, forcing himself to stand.
* * *
I shove the barbell upward,feeling the burn in my pecs. It’s weighted with three forty-five pound plates per side. Concentrating on my set, I ignore the admiring eyes of the gym bunny beside me. When I finish and rack the bar, I sit up.
“Hello,” the gym bunny says. She extends a hand. “I’m Alessandra. I see you here all the time but I’ve never had the courage to introduce myself.”
“Except today,” I tell her with a wink.
“Yeah!” she says. “Isn’t that strange? I’m usually so shy.”
I shake her still extended hand. “Massimo.”
“Ooo, I like that name,” she says. “I’m visiting for the summer from Messina.”
I see one of my clients behind her. He beckons subtly. I ignore him. Let him wait a bit so he learns his place. I’m not at his beck and call.
I chat a bit more with Alessandra and get her number. Then I walk over to the client.
“Ever the ladies man,” Riccardo says when I reach him.
I shrug, saying nothing as I escort him to the men’s locker room. I give him the bottles he’s looking for, and he shoves a wad of cash into my hands.
“Thanks, Massimo,” he says.
I nod absently, not bothering to count the cash. Clients know not to fuck with me. “No worries.”
When he walks away, I can’t help but think of Matteo. I feel no guilt over pushing pills at the gym—if a client gets addicted, that’s their choice. And it’s all in the name of a better body anyway. But Matteo, my brother, doing hard drugs? That’s something else entirely. I don’t know what I’m going to do about him. And Roberto, too. I’m going to have to keep a close watch on the two of them over the next few days. Maybe it was a mistake to expand our operation outside of performance enhancing drugs. It only made the harder drugs all the more accessible, and too tempting in times of crisis.
I pause to examine myself in the mirror. My workout shirt looks like it’s barely containing my upper body. My biceps are bursting from the sleeves, and the tattoos I got in prison cover my arms. The distinct cut of my pecs is clearly visible in the front; my shoulders bulge next to my traps, and my back tapers to a V. Short-cropped blonde hair, steely blue eyes.
As for my facial features, girls would probably call me handsome, but there’s definitely a hard edge to me—mostly because of those eyes. I look… dangerous. That’s the best description I can come up with. Which suits me, in my work.
Still, I’m sometimes troubled when I peer into those eyes of mine, feeling like it’s not me that’s looking back, but rather someone I don’t know anymore. I used to have what some would say was an easy smile, but the streets took that away. I rarely smile these days, and when I do I don’t think it ever touches my eyes.
I finish the rest of my workout. I bump into Alessandra again, and she asks me to confirm that I entered my number correctly in my phone, as if she’s worried I won’t be able to text her. She doesn’t understand that I’ll probably ghost her anyway. This is the third number I’ve gotten this week, and none of the girls really spark too much interest in me. Maybe I’ll text one of them for a booty call at some point, but that’ll be the extent of any relationship with them.
I pass a group of teenage girls waiting at a bus stop. I ignore them. Like Alessandra, I don’t have an eye for any of them. The only girl I want is the one I can’t have.
Angela Amato.
She will be mine someday. I swear it.
