Understanding dawns on me and chasing right behind it is panic that what the demons have been saying all along is true. I feel them clawing at my stomach, trying to get out.
“You’re leaving me?” I ask shakily.
“I’m leaving you for a little while so that I can take care of things in New York and return to you here as soon as I’m done.”
“Why can’t I come with you?” I haven’t been away from my Master for more than a day or two since I came to live with him three years ago.
“The Tagliarini don wants blood, Giovanni. It’s not safe for you in New York.”
“Then it’s not safe for you either.”
“I have people who will protect me.”
“They’ll protect me too.”
“I cannot risk your life.”
“I can’t risk yours,” I say stubbornly. My eyes flood with tears and my gluttonous meal, now churning in my stomach, threatens to come back up.
“I’m retiring from the Aponte family business,” he says evenly. “I’m going to sell everything in New York and live here with you. But I need to be smart about it, and I can’t have you there with me. This has already been decided. You have to trust that Master knows best.”
His face is stern. Master has made up his mind, and there’s no changing it. He’s leaving me in the care of his brother, a stranger, while he extricates himself from our life in New York. I hardly consider my own ties to the city because there is little about it that I’ll miss. My world these past three years has largely been limited to Master’s penthouse and the building’s amenities, to servicing the man who sits before me for rewards, much as my childhood was devoted to my grandfather and confined to his New Jersey manor. With some alarm, I realize I have always been a kept boy. I gaze at the ocean just outside our window, and I think about all the beautiful views I’ve been given, vistas I’ve been content to observe from a distance.
“How long will you be gone?” I ask. How long will I be expected to manage unmoored from the man I’ve come to rely on so intimately that I hardly even consider my bowel movements to be my own.
“I don’t know exactly, but I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.” He attempts to steady me with his unflinching gaze. Meanwhile, the demons begin chattering.
You will not survive.
You’ll never make it all alone.
How could he do this to you?
And then the worst one,He doesn’t want you anymore.
I struggle to swallow past the lump in my throat. “You’re leaving me.”
“I’m leaving you in the care of my brothertemporarilyuntil I return.”
I stare at the butter and wine sauce congealing on my plate, which blurs through my burning eyeballs. Somewhere in the fog, Master asks me if I want dessert, but I don’t really hear him because I’m no longer present. The demons are too loud for me to hear anything but their constant refrain, confirming my deepest fear.
I’m not wanted.
I come backto myself an hour or so later in a parked car. Master must have decided walking wasn’t a good idea. My first sensation is the pressure of Master’s fingers massaging my hand. I blink and glance over to find him sitting beside me in the backseat of a luxurious sedan that smells like money and leather. Anthony sits up front with our driver. I get the sense we’ve been idling here for a while.
“There you are,” Master says as the lines of concern around his eyes fade a little. “Where did you go?”
“I was swimming,” I tell him, “in the pool back home.” Cutting through the water like a silver fish and losing myself to the rhythm of my movement and breath. It’s a safe place for me to retreat to when the stress becomes too much.
“I know there are a lot of changes happening right now,” Master says gently. “And it’s a lot for you to process, but I want you to know that I’m happy to answer any questions you might have, now or later.”
I’m silent at that. I have a lot of questions, but they will likely trickle out when I feel ready to take in more information, which is not right now when I’m still so out of it. “Where are we?” I ask, choosing to focus only on what is in front of me.
“Our new home. Would you like to take a look around?”
Our new home.
“Yes.”
