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“Do you want to know or not?”
“Sure, red, entertain me. What is going to happen to me when you die?”
“Nothing. I don’t know anything I have not already told you, nor have I organized some scheme in my death to destroy you. It was all lies, but I think you already knew that. Didn’t you?”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell that to my brother? It could have saved your life!”
“You're not a liar, Luca, so let’s not pretend this would have ended any other way.”
“If you were so sure I already knew, then why the confession now?
“That wasn’t what I wanted to tell you.”
“Then what? What is it you think will unburden me?”
“I want you to know that I am okay with this, that I am at peace knowing I will soon join my family. I free you of any guilt or conscience you may have from killing me.”
I stare at her dumbfounded for a long moment, in complete and utter awe of her. It begins to rain outside like the world is weeping already at her inevitable fate.
Joe returns, opening my door. “All clear.”
“Good,” I answer, getting out of the car and feeling the wet chill in the air. “Let's get this done.”
Thirty-Seven
Scarlet
The warehouse is as bleak from the inside as it is on the outside. Dust permeates the air, mixing with pigeon shit and rotting wood. There is enough moonlight coming through the industrial windows to see clear enough as I step over piles of rubbish and decay. It’s depressing to think this is the last place I will ever see.
Luca comes to a stop. There are old, splattered blood stains on the concrete floor at his feet, and next to him, Joe stands watching me morbidly. Is this where the Valsettis take all their victims? Will my blood become mixed and stained with the fallen before me?
My legs shake so much I can barely stay standing. I may have been able to hide my horror in the car, but I sure as hell can’t now. Not now that the reality is punching me right in the gut. I thought I was ready for this. Even though it is the path I stupidly lead my own self down, everything in me screams to run back, choose better. But now it’s too late. I have hit a dead end with no way out, and goddammit, I am not ready.
A leaking drain somewhere above us drips droplets of murky water into a puddle on the floor as the rain outside loudly falls onto the roof like stones. It’s almost unbearable but drowns out the sound of my chattering teeth. I can’t tell if my shaking is from my fear or the coldness of this damp hole of a place. It reeks of death and desperation. I can almost hear the echoed cries of the men who have lost their lives here, sending chills through my bones.
Life is a fickle thing. Most of us take for granted what we have until we are faced with our existence coming to an end. As I stand here in this abandoned warehouse, my short life flashes before me. The decisions I made. The people in it, those present and those that have passed. Sweet memories of my childhood and loving parents. Sour memories of my brother's death and his deceptions. All of them pile neatly into twenty-four years that have made up my life.
“On your knees, red,” Luca orders, his voice void of any emotion. Tears suddenly threaten to spill from my eyes as I look into the darkness of his. I curse them back. I will not allow him to see my pain. I will not give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg. How could I be so foolish to think what we shared would change anything? But even as I say those words in my mind, the betrayal doesn't resonate. I guess, deep down, I knew nothing would change him.
A man like Luca is not capable of loving anyone. He can’t stand the sight of himself, and without that self-acceptance, he will always be the butcher he stands in the shadow of. I can’t help but feel sorry for him. If he does not carry out his brother's orders, he loses everything and everyone. I know that loss too well, and I would not want to inflict that upon even someone like him. It is bitter-sweet in the end. He succumbed to his heart, tasted the light and will forever have to live in the dark for the rest of his life, fighting off the craving for it.
What we shared was real. There is no more denying it. We both felt the connection. Despite the horrendous crimes he has committed, I came to see the good he could become. I felt his tender touch, his overwhelming need to surrender. I witnessed the pain and struggle he lives with every day because of who he was made to be. In another lifetime, we could have been lovers if he could have grown up with a normal family, with the morals and values of embracing life and not taking it. I question my sanity over and over. How could I feel something for a man I no longer believe possesses a soul? Yet, somehow, I do.
Even if I could have one more day with Luca, I know in the deepest depths of my heart nothing would persuade him from fulfilling his duties. Luca’s loyalty to his brother, to the syndicate, is not just tattooed on his skin. It’s branded into his brain from birth.
Maintaining eye contact, I slowly come to my knees. There is no adrenaline rushing through me, challenging me to fight anymore. It’s just acceptance. I have no goodbyes to say.
Luca takes a few steps forward, pulling out his black gun and points it at my head. I suppose I should be grateful this will be quick. I won’t have to suffer the agony of my throat being slit and bleed to death on the putrid floor.
A phone rings, breaking our eye contact. The sound echoes loudly through the warehouse, mixing with the sound of the rain. With his free hand, Luca pulls out his phone from his pocket and stares at the screen. “It’s Elijah,” he says, looking at Joe. “I have been waiting for some information from him. Joe, take the call outside, and I will get this finished.” He hands the phone to Joe, who quickly answers the call and walks away.
This! I will get THIS finished! His choice of words cut deeper than any knife ever could. I am no longer a woman, no longer his prisoner or a lover for one night. I am THIS. He says it as if I am nothing, no one. I suppose he has to see me that way. It would make it easier. But as I look up into his whiskey-colored eyes again, there is anguish in them. A turbulence that cannot be mistaken. It hurts my heart to see it, so I squeeze my eyes closed and replace his image with that of my beautiful mother’s face. I picture the loving look of my father’s eyes and feel the gentleness of Logan’s embrace. They are all welcoming me home.
I can’t hear anything. Gone is the rain and thunder on the roof and the tempered beats of my heart. I become completely numb to my surroundings as a gentle peace envelopes me.
BANG!
Thirty-Eight
