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Luka Age 14
Icarefullydumpedthe Zippo fuel into the grass, walking backward, making a winding circle until the can was empty. I pulled the zippo from my pocket, the one I snatched from one of the men two years ago. I rolled it across my fingers before flicking my thumb over the striker. The flame flicked to life. I bent down, touching the flame to the end of the lighter fluid. Pulling back quickly as the whoosh singed the hairs on the back of my hand. I smiled, the flame crawled around the circle. I loved to set things on fire and watch the red and orange dance, ruining anything it touched, turning it dark, singeing it. It was kind of beautiful the way fire glowed, the way it changed things.
The first time I remember dad beating me was the first time I played with fire. I was five. One of the men had lit up a cigarette. I remember watching him roll the wooden stick across the side of the box, completely enthralled as the tip burst into a glow. He sat the box down and I snuck over, putting it into my pocket. I ran into the house and hid behind a curtain. I lit match after match until one slipped from my hand, down the curtain. It caught on fire, I panicked, dropping the box that then engulfed the curtain in flames. One of the men ran in and pulled me from behind the curtain while another ran in with a fire extinguisher and put it out. Dad was the next one in. He snatched me up by my shirt and asked what the hell had happened. I'll never forget the look on Arturo's face when he ran in as I told dad I had been playing with a box of matches. Dad dragged me upstairs and beat me for ten minutes with a belt. I have two scars from that day.
The burn on my right arm and a scar stretched the width of my lower back as the buckle from the belt scraped across. I wish I could say I learned my lesson, but I didn’t. My love affair with fire began that day, she has been my volatile mistress since.
"Luka, what the hell?" I turned to see Arturo walking up. "You’re such a pyro."
I smiled wide. "Just having a little fun."
He shook his head. "I can’t get a hold of Charlie."
"Hot Date?"
"Supposed to be. But she isn't answering her phone or texts." He stood beside me watching as the flame made its way to the middle. Leaving a strip of black behind. "It does look kind of cool."
I nodded as we watched until the flame had completely burned out. He looked back down at his burner phone, shaking his head back and forth. It was the phone he would use for Charlie only. “Where the hell is she? She always answers. I am going to go look for her. Want to come?”
“I might as well. I have used up all the butane I had. But once you find her, bring me back home. I do not want to be a third wheel while the two of you make out in the back seat.”
“Okay.”
We made our way back to the complex, jumping in his Maserati. The guards opened the gate as we approached, making our way to Charlie’s house. I watched the city whip by. Bellissindale was our city, or someday it would be. Arturo being older meant he would be taking over the business when dad stepped down or died. I had a feeling it would be the latter. He was way too controlling to let anyone take over while he still had breath in his lungs. We pulled up to the small suburb house where Charlie lived. I have been here a couple of times. They didn’t know who we were. If they had, I doubt they would be as welcoming to us as they always were. “Wait here, I'll see if she’s home.” He jumped out of the car and walked up the concrete steps, knocking on the dark blue door. Charlie’s mom, Susan I think her name was, opened the door. I watched as they talked back and forth, her face changing to worry. Arturo nodded and walked back to the car. To anyone else, he would have looked calm and collected. But I knew better. The way his jaw was pulled tight, his hand in his pocket fiddling with the coin he always carried with him. Something was wrong.
“What is it?” I asked as he slid back into the driver's seat.
“She thought Charlie was with me.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I said we must have crossed paths, that if she heard from her before me to give me a call.” He turned and looked at me. “Let’s go check the school.”
We drove a few blocks to Harbor High, pulling up outside. A pretty blonde I had seen with Charlie before, wearing a tight cheerleader outfit stood with other cheerleaders laughing. Arturo shut off the engine, both of us climbing out. No way I would let him talk to short skirts without me. She turned around and smiled. “Arturo, what are you doing here?”
“Looking for Charlie. You seen her?”
“Not since practice ended. Thought she was going to meet you.” She looked at me, smiling. “You must be Arturo’s kid brother.”
I shook my head. “Younger brother, but I’m not a kid.”
“Is that so?” She walked over, putting her arm around my neck. “You are adorable.”
Arturo sighed. “How long since she left?”
“An hour ago I guess.” She looked back at me. “What is your name?”
“Luka, but you can call me Daddy.”
She laughed.
Arturo shook his head and grabbed the back of my shirt. “We’re leaving, get in the car.”
I turned back to the girl and gave her a wink. “What is your name beautiful?”
She waved. “Celia.”
I nodded. “I will remember that, Celia.” I got into the passenger seat. “That girl is hot as hell.”
