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“I’ll be down in five,” I reply. I wipe on some deodorant and brush my teeth.
Then I slip out of the bedroom, but not before I allow myself a second to look at Bree lying in my bed. I feel nothing for her, but at the same time I do. We both lost our mothers, so I know what she is going through on that front, but everything else is foreign to me.
“Who the fuck is here this early?” I yell to Mack, descending the stairs two at a time. My foot hits the bottom step when I turn to the front door to see Luccio. He is the mafia leader a city over. We have no bad blood between us, but that doesn’t make it okay for him to come into my house without being invited.
“Luccio,” I say calmly. He is wearing a buttoned down shirt and dress slacks. He doesn’t look as if he is ready to spill blood, but then again most criminals don’t fit the profile of one.
“Alzerro,” he says. His words are heavily laced with an Italian accent that reminds me of home.
“Mack tells me you’re here for something. What can I help you with?” I question, raising an eyebrow up at him.
He looks between Mack and me before dismissing his men. I am not sure what is meant by that, but I don’t ask questions. A bat of my eyelash and Mack is gone, tending to other needs in the house.
“I believe we have gotten onto a case that you may want to know about.” What could he possibly be talking about? We walk the short distance into the sitting room, taking seats across from one another.
“Continue… I’m listening.” And I am. Intently.
“We believe one of your men and my men are working together, that they have been for some time without it being known on either side. We also believe that they have information in regards to your mother’s death.”
The way he says my mother’s death makes it seem real, and I hate seeing it like that. I clench my fists tightly together to stop myself from lashing out at him.
“What do you mean? You either have the proof that such things are taking place or you don’t.”
He runs a hand through his greying hair. He reminds me so much of my father in the way he talks, stands, his gestures and mannerisms… If he wasn’t from another mafia family, I would consider him to be my own blood.
“See that’s the problem, Alzerro… We have nothing other than a lead that led us to a dead body. This is the mafia and you know about us much as we do. Our people know how to kill – we train them, teach them to do so. They will kill every lead we get, and they’ll disappear right from under our noses.”
He is right. Fuck it. He is right. I run a hand through my hair, hoping it will ease some of the tension out of me. There is too much going on right now between the girl up stairs, this, and the many debts that need to be settled…
“Luccio,” I sigh.
“Alzerro, I know you’re a busy man. I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t believe this information. I’m trying to look out for the best of both of our kingdoms, Fratello.” I know he means it out of the kindness of his heart. No one else has ever called me their brother.
“I understand that. I truthfully do, but you do understand what accusing our own kind of does, don’t you?” I had to ask him. It will cause an uprising if anyone discovers what we will be doing. If it is discovered that we are wrong, we would be seen as weak, and weak in the mafia just gives people another reason to take you out.
A smile tips at his lips. “Yes, young Alzerro, I do. Have you forgotten your father and I worked together?”
“No, I haven’t,” I say, returning his smile. The mafia is my family. My men were my family. That’s just how it worked.
“Good. I will keep you updated, I just want you to watch your men and do so diligently. We will smell ‘em out, and when we do, I have a bullet with their names on it.” I can see the determination in his eyes.
I nod my head. “Yes. If I find anything out, I will give you a call.” He stands suddenly, bending down to place a kiss upon my forehead. It is meant out of respect.
“Thank you for seeing me,” Luccio says, and then he is out the door with his men following behind him like bloodhounds.
“What was that about?” Mack comes into the sitting room after closing the door behind them. He looks a bit leery of me, and it then occurs to me: Should I tell him? Should I let him in on the secret that Luccio is on the case of finding my mother’s killer? That it might be one of our own men?
“Luccio thinks there may be a pig among us. Came by to let me know.” I lie. Well, half lie. I can’t possibly tell him everything, even if I trust him. In this line of business, no one can ever be fully trusted. Lines can never be drawn, or they will be crossed daily. It is best to keep things to yourself.
“Well, if I hear anything among the men, I will let you know,” Mack assures me.
“Thank you,” I reply, dismissing him. The fact that my mother’s killer is out there, beneath one of two families is far too much for me to stomach. I find myself crawling back upstairs to my bathroom to take another shower.
It is funny how I can kill left and right and pull people from their families like nothing, but that something so simple can bring me to my knees. It doesn’t matter how much I say I don’t care, or how much I try to bathe in the blood of those I kill, it never takes the pain away, never makes me forget.
