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THIRTY-TWO
‘RIBS’ BONES
Lexi
Iwring my fingers as I pace back and forth in the living room. I know I’m probably annoying the hell out of Vincenzo and Juny, but my anxiety over what Gio and Luce are doing right now is skyrocketing, so they can suck it up.
My heart pounds behind my ribs like an angry bear in a cage. What are they doing? Did they go to the police to claim Elena’s remains? No, they wouldn’t do that. They wouldn’t involve the police, not with their lifestyle. But Gio and Luce both seemed to know the detectives at Lucinda’s home, so I can’t definitively say they wouldn’t speak with the police. Then again, they probably never speak to law enforcement unless it’s absolutely necessary. Gah! So many unknowns and it’s driving me insane!
“C’mon, Lex, just sit down and relax. They’ll be fine, I promise.” One of the brothers, Juny I think, says.
I slice my eyes to him, trying and failing to hold back my glare, “You can’t promise that. You can’t promise they won’t get themselves killed.”
Vincenzo stands and walks over to me, halting my pacing. He reaches for the tops of my arms, but I step back, folding my arms over my middle.
He drops his hands and steps back, “You’re right, we can’t promise that, but I can promise you that those guys are goners for you, and they will do everything they can to come back in one piece.”
His voice is rough but soft, as though he doesn’t often speak unless he really has something to say. It’s that thought that reassures me.
I breathe deeply before nodding my head and dropping into the nearest armchair. I pull up my phone once more and watch Gio and Luce’s location move through the city toward the docks where we found Alan’s twin brother. Gio said they hadn’t found Alan when they went searching there, but what if they missed something, something only Gio would notice?
“Who searched the docks?” I ask the brothers.
Juny looks like he could nap where he sits. His right leg is thrown over the armrest of the sofa, while his head rests on the center console between seats. It doesn’t look particularly comfortable, but something tells me Juny is like a cat and can sleep anywhere.
His brother is the polar opposite. The man looks like he never sleeps.
They are striking to look at. They both have chocolate brown hair, but Vincenzo’s is hidden under a black backward cap while Juny’s sits stylishly wild on his head. Their icy blue eyes look similar as well, but where one looks around lazily, the other’s are sharp and alert.
“We did. Why do you ask?” Vincenzo looks at me curiously. I wonder if he thinks I’m kept in the dark like most mafia men keep their women. Of course, their wives and girlfriends probably don’t have a direct connection to a psychopath who stalks them and kills innocent women just to sate his hunger.
“Did you find anything?”
He shakes his head, but it’s his brother who answers, “We found a whole lotta nothin’, dollface.”
Memories of Alan calling me doll as he beat and raped me flash in my mind’s eye and sends a shudder through me.
“Don’t call me that.”
I stand from the chair and go to the bedroom where I can sit peacefully without being watched.
I close the door behind me and walk toward the wall of windows. I stare through the next building’s windows, watching as people in some sort of office bustle about. I wonder what kind of lives they live, like the mousey girl with her hair pulled back into a low pony. Her glasses slip down to the tip of her nose, but she shoves them back up when a man stops at her desk. He looks frustrated, and by the way the girl nods quickly, I can tell she’s being reprimanded.
When the man leaves, dropping a stack of paper on her desk as he goes, she drops back into her seat and breathes out defeatedly. It makes me want to throat punch the guy.
What is with men and their superior egos? I just don’t understand how they can so easily mistreat a woman because she’s physically smaller than they are, fragile in men’s eyes. It’s pathetic and archaic, but it happens every fucking modern day, and it makes me want to rip my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs.
Even Gio and Luce treat me with kid gloves sometimes. I know that they don’t want me to witness what this life they live does to them, but they’re foolish if they think I don’t see it anyway. I don’t have to be a bystander to any of their deeds outside of this apartment to see the effect it has on them. Gio’s eyes hold a deep well of bitterness and tiredness that is bone-deep. Luce’s shoulders are always so tense like he’s expecting the world to fall apart at any moment. Both of them look as though they’re haunted by the things they’ve done, yet neither of them show an ounce of remorse nor the intentions of changing.
Not that I’d ever make them change.
This is their life and I came into it, handing out ultimatums or demanding change is the quickest way to lose something good, and I have no interest in that.
“I also have no interest in them going after that bastard without me.” I grumble to myself as I leave the window and flop on the bed and close my eyes. This day is taxing, and it’s only just begun.
A soft knock at the door has me sitting back up with a frustrated sigh.
“Yes?” I call out, my voice comes out scratchy, and I have to clear my throat.
