“Sweet!” Matteo says. “I’m in.”
I hope he’s more excited about Michela than whatever drugs might be present at the party.
While he’s getting ready, I call Michela and invite her. She says yes, surprisingly. I call Roberto next and tell him to meet us at the party, as he’s already in Palermo.
“I don’t know,” Roberto says. “I’m kind of tired.”
“Kind of tired,” I mimic in a deeper voice. “Come on, think of all the pussy you’re going to get tonight. We haven’t attended a college fuckfest in a long time. Too long.”
Finally Roberto agrees and I give him the address.
I consider inviting my other brothers, or even Rosa, but I want to concentrate my attention on Matteo and Roberto and make sure they’re having fun.
Matteo joins me downstairs and we head to our private dock in back. The ferry doesn’t operate at this hour, so we’ll have to take our own speedboat. The water isn’t too choppy tonight, so it only takes twenty minutes to traverse the forty-one miles across the sea to Palermo.
I’d already used my favorite app to book a car rental, so after securing the boat in Palermo we walk to the nearby neighborhood where the vehicle awaits. I don’t use the local Uber equivalent, as I don’t intend to get fucked up tonight. Lead by example, is always my motto. And tonight, I’ll be leading by eating a lot of pussy.
I turn up the radio full blast as I tear onto the streets.
* * *
I wakeup in a hospital bed. A heart rate monitor beeps periodically beside me. The cloying scent of antiseptic fills my nostrils. Tubes are taped to my right wrist.
What the fuck?
5
Massimo
Luciano is sitting at my bedside. He sits up, wide-eyed, and quickly makes a call. “He’s awake.” He hangs up, looks at me. “Massimo.”
I try to sit up but I groan in pain. My vision fills with stars and I lay back down. My head pounds.
I gaze at my brother, doing my best to ignore the aches I feel all over. “What happened?”
“You didn’t make it to the party,” Luciano says.
I feel a tight knot forming in the pit of my stomach. “Tell me what happened.” I say each word firmly, succinctly.
“You got T-Boned on the way,” Luciano says. “Another driver ignored a red light.”
It happens all the time on the streets of Italy. Red lights are considered optional. In Sicily… wait a second. The first part of his sentence finally registers.
T-Boned.
The knot grows tighter.
I hold Luciano’s gaze. “Matteo. Is he…”All right?
Luciano swallows uncomfortably. “He’s.” My brother’s eyes tear up. “He’s.” But he can’t finish.
And I know that Matteo is gone.
I shift my gaze to the hospital ceiling. White. Spotless. Sterile.
“I killed him,” I say simply, without emotion.
“It’s not your fault,” Luciano tells me. I can hear the anger in his voice. “The guy who T-Boned you survived. He got a broken leg for his troubles, and that’s it.”
