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Stevie’s eyes go wide, and he babbles some nonsense as Angelo starts to approach. I don’t see a weapon on Angelo, which makes me wonder if he’s going to strangle the man. It’d be an uncharacteristically bloodless death.
I don’t have to wonder for long.
Angelo picks up the scissors sitting on the dining room table. He tests the tip and the blade, then shrugs. “Not all that sharp, but it’ll do.”
Stevie shakes his head. “No, uh, Boss, okay, she didn’t ask to be groped, but I swear she was coming on to me.”
I wince, knowing what a bad idea it is to change a story after the fact.
“So you admit to lying?” Pavone makes a disgusted sound. “Yeah, Angelo, kill him.”
I hear Vanessa squeak next to me. She’s gripping my arm so tightly it’s starting to hurt. “Wait. Mr. Pavone, I don’t think—you don’t need to—”
Pavone rolls his eyes at her. “Don’t tell me what I do or don’t need to do when I run my business,sweetheart.”
By this point, Angelo’s caught up to Stevie. Stevie’s trying to wrestle Angelo off him, but Angelo is huge, tall and muscular and strong in a way Stevie can’t compare to. Stevie goes still when Angelo brings the opened scissors to his throat.
“Kind of a shame,” Angelo says, and he rolls his hips against Stevie’s lower back. “If we didn’t have an audience, I might play with you a bit first. It’s been a while since I castrated anybody.”
Stevie nearly chokes on his own tongue, his eyes wide with panic. “Boss! Boss, please, I didn’t mean—”
“Catch up to us when you’re finished,” Pavone instructs Angelo, obviously done with dealing with his underling.
“Please! Boss, please don’t leave me with the fag!” Stevie shouts, suddenly struggling again. The scissors catch his skin, and a thin line of blood forms on his neck.
It isn’t the first time I’ve heard somebody call Angelo a homophobic slur. The guards around here are quick to talk about Angelo’s violence, and his attraction to men. I haven’t contradicted them, but I wonder why Angelo is putting up with any of it.
This is the first time I’ve witnessed anybody other than Pavone saying it to Angelo’s face, though.
“Shut up, pretty boy,” Angelo sneers as Pavone and Rossi leave the room. “I was gonna make it quick, but maybe…”
Vanessa whimpers, and I glance at her very pale face. I forget sometimes that she’s not as immune to the violence as I am, and the threats of castration and rape alongside murder are bothering her as much as they’d bother the average person, I suppose.
When did I become so callous?
“Just get it over with,” I tell Angelo, trying to keep my voice from sounding bored.
Angelo barks out a laugh. “You aren’t calling the shots here,Princess.” He pointedly looks at me as he digs the edge of the scissors deeper into Stevie’s neck. “If I don’t get my fill here, I might decide to have more fun on your body.”
“Oh, but you’re afag, remember? You wouldn’t have fun with my body,” I tell him.
Stevie looks caught between terror and confusion as Angelo and I go back and forth. He struggles harder, the scissors scoring his skin but doing little else.
Angelo sneers at me. “For you, Princess? I’d make an exception.”
“How charming,” I tell him.
“Lucia!” Vanessa hisses, sounding utterly horrified, and I realize how I must seem to my sister. I shouldn’t be downrightbanteringwith Angelo in front of her.
I shouldn’t be finding Angelo hot as hell right now, either.
Angelo goes to speak, but Stevie breaks free of his grasp. With a sigh, as though it’s an inconvenience and nothing more, he stabs Stevie in the throat.
Blood sprays everywhere, all over the hand-written fucking invitations we’ve been working on all day.
Son of abitch.
I want to tell Angelo to get the body away from the table before he ruins all of them, but Vanessa is freaking out enough already. If I sound too calm, she might catch on.
