Still, Kentrell cackled, keeping his eyes locked in with Luca’s.
“I guess this is payback like a mutha fucka,” Kentrell coughed violently, his laughter died down as a distant look in his eyes appeared.
“This the same position Dontrell was in when I had La’Nova blow his brains out.” Kentrell licked his lips.
All of Luca’s blood ran cold, his jaw ticked as fury blinded him.
“How does it feel to swap bitches with me?” Kentrell chuckled dryly, taking another hit from his cancer stick. He shrugged his shoulders as a look of disappointment followed.
“Nova’s pussy better than Ill Na Na’s… but I see why you love big bitches?—”
Pop!
Luca shot Kentrell right in the stomach, blood seeped out of the hole, trickling down into the comforter. Kentrell chuckled lowly; thanks to all the cocaine he sniffed up his nose before he fell asleep, he hardly felt a thing.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Kentrell winced, finally feeling the pain in his stomach. “It was eye for an eye… Dontrell killed her parent’s…”
“Shut the fuck up!” Luca yelled, his hoarse voice broke through, nearly shaking the walls.
“Feels fucked up huh?” Kentrell chuckled dryly. “Fucking the same bitch that killed your father?—”
Pop! Pop! Pop!
In a trance, Luca kept pulling the trigger until it made a clicking sound. A pain shot through his body almost crippling him on the spot. Flashbacks of his childhood of him and Kentrell played vividly in his mind. There was no regret that harbored inside of him for his final decision in killing Kentrell. Just hurt, anger, and most of all frustration.
Luca promised himself a long time ago to stop searching his brain for answers to questions that didn’t make sense. Kentrell had no reason to hate Luca, and if there was a reason, Luca felt it could have easily been fixed when they were both young.
He kept his distance from Kentrell the older they got but it didn’t stop Luca from thinking about Kentrell. It was death before dishonor, and Kentrell dishonored the Bonetti name, the legacy; the list was so long there was no valid excuse creditable to make Luca want to spare Kentrell. His big brother wanted something he didn’t deserve.
To wear a crown that didn’t fit on top of his head. Most men wanted to lead, yet they never took the time to follow a good leader to teach them the proper tools. Men wanted to be something they never studied, just to say they were that. Luca walked in the shadows of his father. He allowed correction, humbled himself enough to understand the ends and outs.
The crown rightfully belonged to Luca. He accepted it. No one could make him regret taking it.
Roy’s hand landed on top of Luca’s shoulder. He gave it a firm squeeze then released, letting his hand remain on his best friend's shoulder. Roy’s gesture was a simple sentiment of acknowledgement; it was reassurance that he could feel his pain and was there as his capo to stand by his side. Luca slowly lowered his gun, lifted his free hand and placed it on top of Roy’s hand.
“My chest hurts,” Luca muttered, removing his hand from Roy’s.
Luca grabbed his chest, his shoulders dropped as he looked away from Kentrell’s bullet riddled body. His chest had been tight for years, but tonight it felt like something inside him had finally split open. It wasn't the kind of pain a doctor could name. The heaviness felt dense, like concrete had been poured beneath his ribs and left to harden there.
Luca believed in one firm law. Death before dishonor. Betrayal such as Kentrell’s demanded blood, his life. There was no hesitation in the act itself. Luca’s mind and conscience was clear from regret. It was the finality that hit him hard. Truth was, love was not a switch. Luca still had love for Kentrell. He hated that truth but accepted it. His love for him lingered like smoke after a fire. Between the brothers was a history written long beforeresentment had poisoned it. The betrayal and dishonor had been real, but so was the love.
The love was what had Luca feeling hollowed out. His chest tightened again, sharper this time; it felt like his heart was trying to fold inward. He thought about his father and couldn’t help himself. He pressed a hand against his sternum as if he could physically hold himself together.
“Love don’t disappear just because someone wounds you deeply, son.”His father’s words replayed in his mind.
“I’m gon’ make sure you good, bro,” Roy reassured him.
“I know,” Luca whispered lowly.
“Shit makes me feel sick.” Luca shook his head. “Everything. Makes me feel sick,” Luca admitted, anger laced in every whispered word.
“I can’t imagine it, bro.” Roy murmured.
Luca’s hurt radiated off of him in strong waves. Roy felt it and offered comfort by being silent.
“Have him cleaned and sent to his mother,” Luca’s voice cracked. “She’ll do what she feels is best.” He licked his lips. “Make it clear that he will be buried somewhere far away from my father.”
“Got it.” Roy nodded his head in agreement.
