There’s laughter and jesting, yelling and drinking, but all I can focus on is the man with the bag over his head in the middle of the lawn by the lake.
I should have asked why we’re doing this out here rather than the cellar, the place that’s dedicated to violence, but I’ve been too busy trying not to throw up at the idea of ending a life.
He would only take the question as a sign of weakness, and as of an hour ago, I’m no longer permitted the luxury of softness.
I’m a man now, and that means I’m expected to be a cold killing machine.
Or at least that’s what Dad thinks.
“You ready, son?” Neil asks, his eyes so similar to his daughter’s it makes it hard to hold his gaze.
By the time the sun rises and word spreads of my first kill, Chloe will never look at me the same way again. The best friend that she’s loved all these years is about to die, and in his place will be a killer. Someone that’s not worthy of her, and I refuse to mar her with the blood on my hands.
I nod, unable to find my voice.
I wish I could do this without an audience. It wouldn’t necessarily make it any easier, but it might ease some of the pressure if I didn’t have fifteen of Dad’s closest men standing around drinking.
He claps his hand on my shoulder and steps toward my father, who says something to him in a hushed whisper. Neil nods once, looks over his shoulder, and then heads toward the main house.
Turning my attention back to the weapon in my palm, I flick the safety on and shove it into the waistband of my jeans.
I wonder how long it’ll take to get used to having the hard metal pressing against my spine, because it feels foreign as hell every time thus far.
A loud whistle fills the air, and the lawn falls quiet as Dad steps up beside the man on his knees in the grass.
Other than the occasional whimper, he’s been quiet since I arrived twenty minutes ago, and he barely flinches at his proximity.
Most men would be shitting themselves right now, but this guy barely seems to care that he’s about to die.
And maybe he doesn’t.
It still wouldn’t make it any easier to pull the trigger.
“It is my great honor to announce that as of an hour ago, my son has become a man!” His voice carries across the lawn, and I can’t help but glance back toward the house.
If Chloe looked out her window right now, she’d see us gathered around, and I just hope she stays asleep through the gunshot that will fill the quiet night.
“Tonight he will take his first life and take his first step toward his destiny of becoming the head of the Lombardi family.”
A round of cheers follow his words, and my chest tightens to the point I can barely drag in a breath.
I never thought I would be this nervous for this moment. It never occurred to me that I would be hesitant to pull the trigger because I always knew it would happen. But now that it’s upon me, my heart racing, my chest tight and uncomfortable, I don’t know how I’m supposed to go through with this.
Disappointing my dad isn’t an option though, because although I am his son, he would not hesitate to end me.
He tugs the hood off the man and all I can do is stare. Because this isn’t a stranger. It’s not a nameless man who I can tell myself deserves to die. This is Matt, the gardener who has worked for our family since before I was born. The same man that snuck me and Ronan cookies when our parents weren’tlooking and helped Chloe climb down from a tree she got stuck in.
His dark eyes are cast downward, his breathing even despite knowing his life is about to be taken, and suddenly, I don’t think I can do this at all.
How am I supposed to kill someone who has shown me nothing but kindness my whole life?
“Matty here was caught stealing, which saved us the hassle of finding another enemy to sacrifice. Isn’t that right?” Dad chuckles, tugging the gardener’s head back until he’s forced to stare up into cruel eyes.
I hope I never become that dead inside, that no matter how many people I kill, I don’t turn into a heartless monster the way my father did.
“I didn’t steal anything,” he says calmly, not bothering to yell or shout. He’s accepted his fate despite knowing he hasn’t done what he’s accused of.
“Really? So how do you explain the missing soil?”
