“I understand.” I look at the man as my father walks over to him. He takes the man by what hair he has left and pulls his head back.
“Look at him, Gio,” my father says. “Look at this man. Are you looking?”
“Yes, father,” I say, staring at the man.
“This is our prey. He’s our victim. He’s nothing.” My father releases him. “Are you a fucking pussy?”
“No,” I say and step toward the man. My nerves are shaken, but I have to do this.
“Good. Very good, Gio.”
The man struggles and tries to say something. He’s panicking and trying to move again like he knows it’s his last chance. My father backhands him across the face and his head droops. He’s dazed, but not unconscious.
“What now?” I ask my father. I’ve been training for this since I was very young. I know how to shoot and how to fight and how to hunt, but this is the first time my father is making me watch.
Except watching isn't what he has planned. He holds his gun out to me, grip first. “Take it,” he says.
I stare at him, shocked. “Why?” I ask.
“Do as I say.”
Afraid, I take the gun. I expect him to hit me again for not following orders right away, but he doesn’t. My hands shake.
I know something irreversible is happening. But I don’t understand what, not yet.
“Press it against his head,” my father orders.
I stand so close to the man I can feel the heat and desperation roiling off of him. His eyes are wide and pleading, staring at me, practically looking through me. He squirms against the restraints. I press the gun against his head. My throat is so tight, I can’t swallow. I watch as the man begins to cry, deep heaving sobs. I hold the gun there, the cold steel feeling hotter as my hand starts to sweat, and I look at my father.
“Look back at him,” my father commands. I try to swallow again, but I fail miserably. I stare at the man, but only at his temple where the gun is pointed. I can’t look him in the eyes. “Are you ready, Gio?”
It comes to me in that moment, what my father wants. It’s the reason he’s not hitting me. Because he knows I’m about to do something important. I don’t want to though. I don’t want this. I hold the gun tightly, then grip it with two hands.
“I- I-” I stammer. I can’t do this. I’m not like him.
“You will do it, or I’ll untie him and let him beat you to death,” my father sneers. My blood runs cold, and I finally swallow the spiked lump that has formed in my throat.
“I’m ready,” I say in a voice I don’t recognize.
Ten years old. My father puts a hand on my shoulder. His fingers dig in as he squeezes.
“Do it,” he says.
I pull the trigger without thinking anything more. Bang! The man’s skull explodes in a shower of blood. The sound, the feel, and the sight of the man, hung over and limp in the chair haunted me for years. But not the next man, or the next that my father had me kill. I don’t even remember them.
* * *
I hate him for what he made me, but at the same time, I’m also glad for what he made me. I can take lives so easily now. They mean nothing to me. That first time was difficult, but it was also surprisingly easy.
One pull of the trigger, and it all ends. I’m safe, and the world is rid of a man who needed to die. The darkness inside of me needs this. It craves the rush and the thrill of a hunt and a kill, and if I go too long without a job I find that darkness coming up to the surface in the form of memories. Too much of my past still haunts me. I just need to focus on the present. On the next kill.
Duke returns with the ball. I crouch down and pat his shoulder, just now noticing how the sky has darkened and the air has turned bitter cold. “Good boy,” I say softly. I relax as Duke nudges me, bringing me back to the present. “Next time, just rip off his nuts.”
Duke licks my hand as I grin, pick up the ball, and throw it. He barks as he runs off, leaving me alone with the dilemma at hand.
My father wants me to at least hear what they have to say, and I can do that. I’ll listen, because I owe him that much. But I can’t imagine how they could change my mind on this one. Not when this hit could spark the largest mafia war in the history of the whole fucking city.
Chapter 2
