Slowly, his head turns. Bloodshot eyes, swollen from crying stare at me. “Hey, Renz.” He smiles.
It’s not his usual ever ready mischievous smile that always comforts me when Mother rants for no reason. This smile is filled with pain, with sadness, with hopelessness. I know that smile. I’d seen it before. On Father’s face the night before he died. Mother had been whining again. He was a hardcore mafia head, but Mother always found a way to upset his heart by threatening to kill herself and her children. Father could live without her, we all knew that. He couldn’t, however live without his children.
“What did you do, Tae.” I can’t stop the tears flowing down my cheeks. “I need to call Mother, she’ll know what to do.”
“No, Renz. Don’t.” He tries to grip my hand, but his hold is weak, he’s lost too much blood. “This is best for me. I can’t live without my love, Renz. My heart aches every day, it bleeds for the love of my life. And what better way than to let it bleed from body. I can’t be who she wants me to be. I’m not cut out for the mafia head. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He pulls in a raspy breath. “Promise me, Renz that when you fall in love, you will not let it be in vain. You will not let anyone stand in your way. Not even if you’re Capo” He inhales on a slow breath again. “Promise me, that no matter who you love, you will love hard and proud. You will share it with the world. Promise.”
“I promise,” I whisper on a sob, watching my brother take his last few breaths.
“Stop those tears, now, boy!” I jerk upright at Mother’s stern voice. She’s standing at the door, prim and proper in a pale lemon suit and slick bun, her face an expressionless mask of thick make-up.
I slide on the blood but manage to steady myself then whisper, “help him, Mother. He’s dying. Please.”
Her face contorts in unbridled fury and I brace myself. She leans forward and grips me by the neck, yanking me back until I’m no longer near Mateo. “You’re a made man, Lorenzo!” she grits out. It’s always my full name with her. “Tears are for weak men. Begging is for pussies. Are you a weak pussy, boy.” I swipe at the relentless tears, forcing my throat to close against the ache and shake my head. “Answer me, Lorenzo. Words.”
“No, Mother,” I rasp.
“Louder!” she snarls in my face.
“No, Mother!” I bark.
“That is a weak pussy, Lorenzo, a pathetic piece of shit.” She points to Mateo and it takes every ounce of strength, not to push her away, to shove at her, to shake her and tell her stop. “Your brother is not a man. He is a coward who couldn’t face the life he was given. “Call Remo, I want him to see what a pathetic shit he has for a brother.”
I cringe. “No, Mother, ple—” I stop the word before it escapes. “Don’t let him see this.” At thirteen, Remo is the youngest of the three boys and the most impressionable. Seeing his brother’s dead body would either weaken him or kill him internally because in our house, emotion is a monster than brings wrath upon its offender.
She narrows her eyes, lips pursed into a thin slit and I know what’s coming. Punishment. “Go.” Her hardness makes her an obnoxious woman on a normal day, anger just adds that extra touch of nausea. “Lorenzo!” she snaps as I walk away. I turn to look at her, keeping my features just as impassive as hers. “The name Mateo will not be mentioned in this house from this day forward.” My insides crumble to dust and I bite down on my tongue so as not to react. “Did you hear me boy!” she barks.
“Yes, Mother,” I shove every bit of fury I possess into those two words.
“Go serve your punishment with those clothes.” Her tone dismissive, she turns her back on me.
“Bye, Mateo,” I whisper under my breath. There will be no normal funeral for my brother. If I know my mother, it will be an empty casket just for appearances while my brother’s body becomes animal food. Which kind, I don’t know, for now, but I will find out, just for my records. With one last whiff of my brother’s scent, I head down toward the basement to serve out my sentence, drenched in my brother’s blood.
This time it will be twelve days in the hole. She doesn’t tolerate defiance. Three days for every offence—three days without food or water, locked in a dark room that holds no sunlight, bares no furniture and hears no sounds. Even prisoners in solitary confinement get crap to eat. Not in this house. This is my third offence. Only because I’m a rebel. Twelve days will make me weak with hunger and thirst, but it will never break me. That will never happen. I took that vow the day my father died. Nothing will break me. Not even the queen bitch herself.
Rayden shifting yanked me out of those callous memories. I stared at the back of his head, silently hating this boy who ignited something in me I couldn’t understand, despising that his vulnerability brought out memories of Mateo’s death, emotions I’d learned to keep at bay. I was a hardcore man. I didn’t do the sentimental shit—that’s what I was taught.
Yet, I couldn’t blank him out. This cocky boy, who once called me an old man making me smile instead of putting a gun to his head. I shook my head, uncertainty blazing a hot trail down my spine. Doubt because I had no idea what the morning would bring.
“Who hurt you, Rayden?” I breathed. “And why come back after all these years. Why now? Why me?”
He didn’t release his grip on me, and I didn’t move, waiting for him to accept that he was ironically in some place safe. Only when his breathing slowed to gentle even rasps and his hold on my hand loosen, did I tuck his hand under the cover before leaving the room. Outside, I stood there for a while unaware Remo watched me, until he cleared his throat. I looked up.
“Did he say anything?” he asked. I shook my head while massaging my eyes with my thumb and forefinger “Shit, that boy’s been through the grinder in his young life.”
I dropped my hand and frowned. “I didn’t know you were a fan,” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
He grinned. “You asked me to keep a check on him, remember?”
My brow shot up, surprised etched into my voice. “And you did?” He nodded. “But you never mentioned anything.”
“Because I took care of it, of him.”
“It?”
He shrugged. “He had the odd run in, now and then. Some he knew of and others, not.”
I can’t remember the exact moment Remo and I became close. It wouldn’t be fair to say he replaced Mateo in my life because he didn’t. Remo possessed his own brand of getting under your skin and somehow, I found comfort in him after Mateo’s death. But if I had to stand in line to pick a sibling in my after life, I’d want Remo by my side forever. He was the type of man who could make you go insane with his brashness and go mushy with his unbridled caring, the latter was becoming more profound recently and I wondered if Alessia had a hand in that.
