Except.
It was the first time I was really noticing his face. He didn’t look like Rocco, or the Faustis, like the rest of Rocco and Rosaria’s sons. He looked a lot like Rosaria, but with a twist. Rocco had named him so wrong. He didn’t look anything like Marzio, Nonno’s father, and from the stories I’d heard, it certainly didn’t seem like he took after him in behavior, either.
“Let me go,” I breathed.
He let me drop to the floor. I hit with a thud that sent the hens, more feathers, and stuff I didn’t want to think about, scattering.
Marzio stepped over me while I tried to get up, forcing me down again, while he walked to the back of the house. He shooed the frantic hen away, the one trying to attack something. She was still at it. While he had his back turned, I tried to quietly get up, wondering where the fuck Oscar had gone. He had just been outside.
I was quick, but Marzio was quicker. He caught me right before I could get to the door, stepping in front of me, using a hissing and wriggling black snake to stop me. He held it close to my face until I took a step back.
“Here is your problem,” he said in a low, almost hoarse voice. “A, ah,serpentein the hen house. Such defenseless creatures against such a thing.” He made atsknoise and looked me in the eye. “I hear you are strong, but perhaps that is only when you have a knife handy, ah? We shall see how brave you truly are.”
He held it out to me to take.
I quickly glanced at how he was holding it. Taking a deep breath, I took a step around him. I refused to rush, to give him the satisfaction of thinking that I was intimated or scared. I was,both, but I was good at burying my feelings deep enough that not even Régine could see what I was going through. Biting my lip so I wouldn’t fucking chicken out, I stood next to him, and steadying my hand, went to hold the scary-ass thing like he was. He held it in a way that it couldn’t turn its head and strike him.
Okay, the times I was locked in with rats came back to haunt me. I’d hope for a cat, or even a snake, to eat the four-legged piranhas. This felt like some kind of warped karma coming back to get me. I just hoped,prayed, that it wasn’t coming back tobiteme.
“Are we scared?”
“No,” I said, thankful my voice came out even. “Just figuring out how to hold it without it biting me.”
Hetskedagain. “You? Afraid of a little bite?” He laughed, and it seemed to piss the snake off even more. It started to wriggle even harder, its tail whipping around. “I would think you are immune. After all, you are a snake with two legs.”
Rosaria deserved everything she got, I was going to say, but I had to bite my tongue. One move and he’d fling that snake in my face. I wasn’t sure if it was poisonous or not, but it looked like it. It had fucking fangs!
A sharp voice came from behind us in Italian.
We both turned at the same time, and in a split second, Marzio launched the snake at Mariano and Oscar, who was suddenly standing next to Mariano. Oscar made an “EEEEEEEEE!” noise as he and Mariano seemed to part at the same time, using the stone to shield themselves from the flying snake. Marzio rushed out of the house, faster than I thought possible, and was making a run for it.
I rushed out of the hen house. Mariano was only a few steps behind Marzio. They disappeared around thecastelloin a flash, probably heading toward the driveway. Mariano had taken his horse. I was willing to bet Marzio was in a fast car.
“S-s-s-s-te-lllaaaa.”
I turned my head.
Oscar was pressed against the stone, trying to become a part of it. Sweat rolled down his head like he was getting rained on, and he kept blinking at me like he was trying to communicate through his eyes.
Slowly, I looked down.
The snake was still hanging around, between Oscar and me, and it seemed to be deciding who to go for first.
“Maybe if we don’t move—” the snake seemed to turn to me at the sound of my voice “—don’t even talk,” I whispered, “it’ll just go away.”
All Oscar could do was shrug.
The scariest part was that a small light had come on against the hen house—and it was all the light we could see by. It was already night, and the snake was dark. It was agitated. It was hot out, and we’d ruined its egg dinner. Maybe even a few chickens. I wasn’t sure how much a snake of that size could eat!
The crackling of grass and earth came from behind me. I was too frozen to move to check it out. But whoever it was was moving slow, carefully, hardly making a sound. Then strong arms came around me, and in a rush, lifted me off my feet.
Matteo.
I went to open my mouth, to warn him, but he shook his head.
“I know, baby,” he whispered. But his eyes—I couldn’t even see the whites of them. They were dilated. Slowly, oh so slowly, he walked backward.
Italian came flying through the night. Brando. He seemed to be talking to Oscar. Oscar didn’t answer, but he kept bobbing his head.
