I slide my fingernail under a dried piece of wax and let it fall to the floor. Despite the dim light, I can see the skin beneath is red and angry, but won’t be permanently damaged.
I watch as my hand rises again and tips, drizzling a stream of translucent wax onto the opposite thigh. My teeth grind together as I inhale sharply from the burn. When the sting begins to subside, a blanket of peaceful calm envelops me like I haven’t known in weeks. Maybe even months.
The relief is euphoric.
I don’t know what’s happened in my brain to bring about this change, and I don’t care. All that matters is that the torment is gone for however long. And when I peel away the dried wax, I uncover a renewed version of myself.
Stronger.
More resilient.
This Terina is made to survive.
CHAPTER 25
DIANGELO
Present
“Dinner’s not goingto work this week, and I have no idea when I’ll be free. I have someone staying with me to keep them safe for a bit.” I could take Terina to my parents’ house, in theory. I just don’t want to. I’m not up for the questions I’d undoubtedly get from both parties.
Lucky for me, I have a long history of disappointing my parents.
My opinion, not theirs.
They’ve always been supportive and eager to be as involved in my life as I’ll allow. I’m the one who holds back, and I know that’s shitty of me, but being around them reminds me of how different life could have been. I’m reminded of my worst failures and what we all lost because of me.
Is that the coward’s cherry on top of the selfish bastard cake? You bet.
A monthly dinner keeps me from hating myself completely where they’re concerned. This week was supposed to be our get-together, so I had to call and let them know it isn’t happening.
“Oh, that sounds serious,” Mom says in a hushed tone over the phone as though someone might try to overhear our conversation. “You should definitely make sure they’re safe. We can have dinner with you once things settle down.”
Of course, she’s genuinely understanding. That’s Mom.
“I appreciate that. You guys doing okay?”
“Your dad’s just fine, but he keeps trying to give me a heat stroke by turning the AC off. If he doesn’t watch it, I’m going to call someone in here to put a lock on the thermostat.”
“Why’s he doing that? You can afford to be comfortable.” They can afford a hell of a lot more than that, thanks to the money I’ve deposited in their account. It was the first place my money went after I swore my oath to the Moretti Family. One of the things I’m most proud of in my life is knowing my parents retired early because of me.
They know the money isn’t exactly clean. Mom wasn’t thrilled when I got out of prison and went straight to Dad’s good friend Cosimo Costa for work, but she didn’t judge me for it, either. Mom and Dad have always maintained that good character isn’t always measured in terms of legality. Too many upstanding citizens hide monstrous secrets to pretend a legitimate job makes a person good.
Mom sighs. “I think he’s getting old. You know how old people are always cold? That’s him. I swear, he has to wear a sweater just to go inside a department store.”
A smile tugs at my lips despite the twinge in my heart. Dad is getting older. There are five years between them. I’m glad they can laugh about that stuff, but it’s a sobering reminder that they won’t be around forever.
“I’ll get him some long underwear. I don’t want to sweat through our next dinner.”
“I’ll make sure to have it nice and cold for you,” she assures me warmly. “You just let us know when you can make it overhere, and I’ll put him under a heat lamp like one of those lizards.”
“Alright, Ma.” I chuckle. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Better be. Love you, D.”
“Love you, too.” And I do. I wish I didn’t love them so much. It would make stomaching the past that little bit easier.
Yup, I’m definitely a selfish dick.
