“Will you be okay?” Nestore asked quietly.
“Yes. Take a shower.” I just wanted Nestore to finally drop my father’s bone. Maybe getting rid of all the blood would help him return to himself, to let the beast he’d unleashed against the guard and my father lie dormant.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Nestore disappear into the bathroom, but he left the door ajar so he could hear any sounds of distress from me. Nino looked quite strong and capable with violence, so I didn’t want Nestore to engage in any fights, especially not while his body was still so broken.
A shift to my left made me tense. Nino appeared in my line of vision but still gave me a wide berth. The hairs at the nape of my neck rose.
“You don’t have to fear me. My brothers and I want our territory, and we’ll protect those who stand loyal by our side. Soon, Nestore will have the power to protect you and his other possessions, and you won’t have to fear anyone ever again.”
“I’m not a possession,” I said, bristling at the suggestion. I had felt like a possession of my father all my life, like something he could do with as he pleased. I wanted to belong to myself. I wanted to belong to Nestore too, but because I gifted myself to him, not because he owned me.
“He regards you as his, and I got the impression that he won’t let anyone take you from him. Do you think you’d be free to go if you so desired?”
I frowned. “Nestore loves me.”
Nino tilted his head as if what I said was curious and didn’t make sense. “Is he still capable of such a thing?”
Such a thing.He made it sound as if it were something useless, almost like a superstition he couldn’t understand. “Now that he’s out of his prison, he’ll heal.”
Nino gave me a look that made it clear he thought I was wrong. “Some things heal, but they alter what was there.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. My wrist didn’t hurt anymore. The painkillers had finally taken effect.
“You want him to be a monster, don’t you?”
Nino’s expression remained emotionless. “It’s what he is.”
“He’s not.” I swallowed because he had acted like a monster today. “It’s not his fault.”
“I didn’t say it was. Nothing’s wrong with who he’s become. If it is for you, leave. If he lets you.”
As I emerged from the shower, clean for the first time in forever, I felt reborn. My body still ached with past injuries, but those would heal. Soon, I’d be stronger than ever, and then I’d get revenge on every person who had wronged my family and me, but especially on those who had wronged Amelia. I took Lamorgese’s bone from the heap of my old clothes, turned it in my hand. I could still hear his howls of agony as I ripped it from his living flesh, remembering the look of terror in his eyes. Now that I knew the taste of power, the heady sensations linked to it, I would never give it up again.
I would take the place I was destined for. I would rule over this city. I would stand loyal by Remo Falcone’s side and ruin our enemies. He had given me back my purpose. He had given me Lamorgese, and for that, I’d always be grateful.
Among the clothes Nino had handed Amelia were a black shirt and black jeans for me. They must have been his or Remo’s, considering the pants weren’t too short for me. I was taller than all the other men, except for the two Falcones. I didn’t put on the shirt. I didn’t like the feel of the fabric on the many scars on my back and chest. I liked the feeling of air on them. I wasn’t ashamed of them, even if they were proof of my weakness. They were also part of my strength because I had survived.
When I returned to the bedroom, Amelia remained standing in front of the window. Her strawberry-blond hair curled at the ends as it dried in the air. She looked petite and young. She looked so much younger than the two years that separated us. One day, she’d be my wife, but not yet. I needed to make sure my enemies were dead or as good as, so I could give her the life she deserved.
Nino stood by the door with enough distance from Amelia. She glanced over her shoulder at me, blue eyes taking in my bare chest, trailing down my arm to my hand, in which I held her father’s bone. She shuddered. Amelia was kind. She was sensitive. Eight months in the basement hadn’t changed who she was. She dwelled in the light while I had been sucked into the dark.
Nino took in my scars. A burn wound on my back, below my shoulder, was festering. I had seen it in the mirror in the bathroom. “That needs immediate treatment to prevent blood poisoning. It’ll leave a scar, but given the state of your body, I doubt one more matters to you.”
“It doesn’t,” I confirmed.
“Do you want something for the pain? Cleaning the wound will be very unpleasant.”
“No. I can handle the pain.”
I didn’t want anything to dull my senses, even if that meant being spared pain. Amelia turned around with acute worry written across her pretty, pale face.
I gritted my teeth when Nino began to clean the wound, not making a sound. It had become almost impossible for Lamorgese to draw out screams from me, something I was proud of. I never wanted Amelia to hear my screams again. The sun had set behind her, the sky glowing in the last hues of red and orange before black would claim them too.
Nino treated my wounds for an hour, counting off the many healed fractures, guessing how I’d sustained certain scars, and always being right. When he finally left, silence fell over Amelia and me.
“Go to bed,” I told her. “I’ll keep watch.”
“You need to sleep too.”
