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“No, she was with Neo, boss,” he says before walking out the door, aware that if he were to stay any longer, his life would be on the fucking line. She’s with Neo. Well, at least she isn’t fucking alone, but where the fuck is she? What the fuck are they doing? And why didn’t either of them wake me up?
I dial her number and the call goes straight to voicemail. “Sorry I missed your call…” I hang up and redial. And again, the call goes to voicemail.
“Answer your fucking phone,” I scream into the empty room. I dial Neo; he answers after almost letting it ring out. That fucker knows better than to ignore my fucking calls, especially when he’s taken off somewhere with my fucking wife. “Where the fuck are you?”
“Well, good morning to you too, boss. You slept well, I see.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Neo. Where the fuck is my wife? And why’d I have to hear it from a fucking foot soldier that you’ve taken her out somewhere?”
“First off, don’t get your panties all twisted. She’s fine. She’s here, in the car, right next to me. And I didn’t take her anywhere. She took me. By gunpoint, I might add.”
I understand his words, but they aren’t making sense.By gunpoint?“You really expect me to believe that my wife pulled a gun on you, forced you to get into a car and drove off? To go where, exactly?”
“Well, I was taken by surprise too. It seems our girl is all grown up and taking hostages.”
“Mygirl, Neo. She’s my fucking girl. Notours, certainly not yours, and sure as fuck not anyone else’s. She’s fucking mine. Where. The. Fuck. Is. She?” I yell.
“Okay, clearly, your parents should have had more children. You’re starting to sound like a spoiled only child. I haven’t stolen your favorite toy, T. I was forced to go along. Either that, or she was going alone.”
“Where is she, Neo?” My voice is calm. I’m really ready to kill my best friend right now.
“Fanculo, hold on. I’ll put you on speaker. Okay, she’s here.”
“Dolcezza, are you okay?” I ask.
“Morning. I’m fine. How are you?” Am I being punked? Does she not realize I’m losing my mind over here?
“I’d be fucking a hell of a lot better if I didn’t wake up to an empty bed, not knowing where the fuck my wife was,” I grunt.
“Okay, well, obviously I’m fine and you just need to chill out a bit, T. I’m running errands. I’ll be back whenever I get back.”
“Yeah, that’s not how this is going to work, dolcezza. Where are you? I’ll come and meet you.”
“I’m shopping. You don’t have to come meet me. I’m fine. Just do whatever it is you do all day. And talk to Angelica.” The line cuts out before I can contemplate a reply. She hung up on me. What the fuck? I fire off a message to Neo.
Me: I want an address as soon as she stops somewhere.
Neo: Sure thing, boss. But if she asks, you didn’t hear this from me. I suggest you speak to your mother’s realtor. That’s who she’s meeting.
A realtor? What the fuck does Holly want with a realtor? Does she think she’s moving out? Then again, moving out of where, exactly? Ever since we’ve been married, I’ve done nothing but move her from one place to the other. What I should have done was buy a fucking house, somewhere we could finally start our life together. Given some semblance of stability, instead of the shitshow that’s been the entirety of our marriage. I’m about to head out to the garage when Angelica comes to a stop in front of me.
We stare at each other in silence. She really is a beautiful girl. I have no idea what to say to her. I don’t know how to be a fucking brother. I’ve never had to be one, and now I have to be a brother to a… sister? Donatello couldn’t have had another fucking son?
“This is weird, isn’t it?” Angelica breaks the silence.
“To say the least. Did you sleep well? Do you need anything? Isabella okay?” I ask. That little girl managed to steal my heart within a matter of seconds. A heart I wasn’t even sure existed before I met Holly.
“Yes, fine. She’s still asleep. I don’t usually let her stay up so late.”
“Good.” The awkward silence fills the room again.
“Come, you look like you could use a coffee.”
I follow Angelica to the kitchen, when really, all I want to do is get in the car and hunt down my fucking wife. The Italian princess goes about making a fresh pot of coffee. I watch as she opens and shuts cupboards until she finds everything she needs.
“I didn’t come here to cause trouble for you, Theo,” she says.
“Then whydidyou come?” I ask, watching her move around. She may be my sister, but I’m not stupid. This girl was raised by the Don of all Dons. A ruthless motherfucker. Anyone foolish enough to deem her harmless deserves whatever’s coming to them.
