“Well, it certainly doesn’t hurt,” I answered honestly. “I could stare at him for hours and consider blinking a terrible, terrible waste.”
“This is what the women say to me.” Romeo smiled, seeming like a big lion in the den with his cigar, suit, and Italian swagger.
“No doubt about it.” I smiled “That’s not the reason why I love Brando though. Never was.”
Although his beauty is like a trap, I mused, my thoughts drifting.It’s his eyes. Brando’s eyes were the lure. I went three years without a date because of just thethoughtof what they did to me. I had never seen in anyone’s eyes what I saw in his. His eyes bared his soul to me in those times he allowed me beyond the gates.
“To answer your question,” I said to Vincenzo after a couple of minutes, my voice low and slow. “The only way I can describe it is in terms of my faith. I’ve always believed that I was created for Brando. The day I was created, we were fused together, to see if the fit was right. And when it was time to split us apart, part of him was left over in me, and me in him. He needs the connection to feel whole. So do I.”
“Allora,” Vincenzo said. It was a filler term. In this instance he used it to let Romeo and me know that he was thinking this explanation over.
“You stole his rib when you were created,” Romeo said, taking the glass from me and drinking the rest of the wine down. Then he touched one of my ribs, almost a poke. “This means you are his. You brought it back. Though one soul can never truly return what is stolen to another. It lingers in the blood and in the heart. Mostly in the soul itself.”
It was my turn to whisper “allora.” Sometimes Romeo could make me sigh with his beautiful words.
The three of us became quiet, taking in the conversation and digesting it for our own needs. I sensed that Romeo’s thoughts were on Juliette. Vincenzo’s seemed somewhat wilder, possibly casting a line out to past experiences to see if anything took hold.
I glanced around the party once, to see if I could spot Brando. But the clumps of people were too thick to distinguish one shape from another. He wasn’t hard to find, usually, but this was his sea. Shapes were similar.
We were the only three in the front of the villa; most of the guests were on each side balcony, or exploring the property. Some of the kids held sparklers, running around like little lit fuses themselves.
At first, the sudden change in atmosphere didn’t alarm me, but the looks on Vincenzo and Romeo’s faces did. The voices of the guests seemed to rise, washing over us like a buzzing wave. Guests were starting to herd together, moving toward the entrances to the villa like hunted sheep.
The children’s parents and family members were running toward the lawn, screaming for them to come inside—fretta!—along with a few other words that were lost on me.
Romeo took me by the arm, so firm that my first reaction was to yank from his grasp. His skin was hot, almost burning through the fabric of the dress.
“What is it?” I asked, panicked.
His eyes were here and then there, attempting to locate the threat. “I do not know, but we must go. Now!” He was shoving me toward the parking lot, while I was attempting to find Brando.
“I’m not leaving without Brando!”
“You must!”
“Romeo!”
“He will know where to meet us. Move!”
Having enough of me fighting against the tide, Vincenzo threw me over his shoulder, running at top speed with his gun in one hand, hauling ass toward the cars. Romeo had the keys ready, keeping stride with us, though I knew he could move faster since he was solo.
“Romeo,” I almost sobbed. “I c-can’t leave without him. Please!”
“We have talked about this. If something should happen, I am to take you in another car. They will think you are with Brando and follow him.”
“He’s using himself as a decoy!”
Rocco, Rosaria, and Chiara caught up to us then, the two women void of heels and color. Rosaria took my hand first and then Chiara.
“Take them!” Rocco hissed. “Partire,partire,partire!”
He kissed Rosaria with enough force that she had to suck in air before she could breathe normally. Rocco disappeared before she could grab at his arm.
Vincenzo plunked me down in the back of the SUV, Rosaria and Chiara on each side of me. The three of us locked hands, attempting to form a thread that couldn’t be broken.
Romeo tore out of the lot, the three of us swaying to the manic rhythm of the tires. The closer we came to the gate, the clearer the issue at hand became. Gunshots. They were exploding from different sides of the property, sparks like fireworks bursting in midair.
“Giù!” Vincenzo ordered to the backseat.
