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“We are going to get weather soon, lots of it. We can stay up here for the time being, but if the building shows any signs of damage, we will move downstairs,” the man who usually runs the logistics and ins and outs of the house says to me.
“Has this happened before?” I ask him, “while you’ve been on the island?”
“We have never stayed on the island in hurricane season, ma’am. This is the longest anyone has every stayed out here. We usually just come meet the boats and leave again.” That doesn’t comfort me at all, why are we here when they know hurricanes are a problem? “The house was built to withstand storms, it is still here. The celler is carved out of the rock and lined with concrete, we will be safe.” I don’t feel safe. I miss Sal, when am with him I know I am safe. Right now, I am unsure of any of these people being able to keep me safe.
The first flash of lightning illuminates the house even with most of the glass and windows boarded shut. I bet this storm has some bitchy name, they always give them a name. Especially if they get big enough to be dangerous. I say my prayers quietly to myself and hope like fuck God hasn’t completely forsaken me.
CHAPTER20
Salvatore
Leaving was hard, and being back home is even worse. I am assaulted by memories of my brother everywhere I look. I am constantly reminded of what I lost, photographs on the mantle in my home, of his wedding and Raul’s baptism. They cut into my soul. He shouldn’t be dead — I shouldn’t be a father to his son, nor should I be doing it alone.
I’m not alone though, I have Lucia and the guilt over that eats me now more than it did when I was tucked away alone with her away from reality. The island is a little fantasy world that doesn’t exist to these people, they’d not understand my need to be isolated and away from the past. Twins are different and no one who hasn’t got twin brother can understand how my being back home is like having half my body torn off. It hurts, the agony makes me lose sleep and my fuse is even shorter than normal.
I pull on the jacket of my suit over my gun holster. I am not walking into a war zone without my own protection. While I wait a few minutes so I am not too early, I admire the view that made me buy this apartment in the first place. It no longer inspires me or makes me happy. It’s just an empty apartment where I once lived.
I wonder what Lucia and Raul are doing today, if they’re on the beach or baking in the kitchen. I miss them, there is a hollowness in me that only they fill. I check the security feed from the island and see them on the beach. They look so happy, I wish I was with them. I close the feed and pocket my phone. It is time to go and face The Kings — and whatever shitshow I have missed while gone.
My car is in the basement exactly where I left it months ago, I haven’t driven in so long I wonder if I still can. There is no need to drive on an island you walk from one end to the other in minutes. The engine splutters to life, not happy to have been standing so long, and I pull out into the midday traffic.
I miss none of this, not the smog, or traffic, the noise, or the people. Nothing about the city I once loved appeals to me now, I can’t wait to leave again. San Luca has been the home of the ’Ndrangheta for hundreds of years, but it has also been where all the mafia allies from all the organized crime families across Italy meet.
It’s a drive from the city to the Sanctuary, and I roll down the windows craving the fresh air I have become used to. There’s a level of apprehension any time we have a meeting like this, I have seen many a boss overthrown. We may all be mafia, but no one ever truly knows who their allies and enemies are — these days loyalty can be bought cheap.
“Ciao,” Lorenzo greets me in the car park with a handshake and a half hug, “thank you for coming.” I think he could tell I did not want to be here. I nod. I have nothing to say, not yet. They have been very quiet about exactly what is going on, and I keep my head down and do my business without getting in anyone else’s. I have always done so.
We walk into the sanctuary, a previously holy place, now the black heart of organized crime. The cool air in the stone hallway where our footsteps echo sends a shiver down my spine, something isn’t sitting right. Lorenzo looks tired, his skin is ashen and when I look at him, I can see the toll this job is taking on the man. When he came home after his father died, he did not look like he does now and I wonder why he doesn’t just walk away from this all. Go back to being a lawyer for the scum of the earth. That is what he is best at.
There are already a few men and their security in the room. I didn’t bring security — I did not think I needed it. Maybe they know something we don’t, or they are simply afraid Lorenzo will put a bullet between their eyes. Lucia’s brother walks into the room last. He has some nerve showing up knowing I would be here. I should kill him, right here. My hand itches to grab my gun and end him.
I see the look I get from both Vito, and Lorenzo. I am being told to calm down without words, to hold myself back from acting on impulse. No one in this room knows that Lucia is on my island, I don’t even know if her family made it known she is missing.
Did these idiots even look for her?
He comes over to shake Lorenzo’s hand and speaks. “Sorry my father is not here, he is following a lead on the men who took my sister.” So, they are looking — they won’t find her easily. I covered my tracks very carefully. I get some satisfaction knowing he’s out there searching for her, I will never give her back to them. I will kill any man who tries to take her from me.
The day is wasted talking in circles about turf, and allies, and who is in charge of what — I care about none of this shit. I have a business, it helps them, I do my work and I live in peace. When I wanted to choose violence they stopped me, now they want me to join a fight I have no stakes in. This trip was pointless, I am just here to fill a chair and make it look like Lorenzo has the numbers backing him.
Vito calls an end to the loud shouting and arguing, saying we need to take a break. This is getting us nowhere. “Take a walk, clear your heads,” he says when threats start being hurled around the room. “We can sit down later when everyone has cooled off.” He’s trying to prevent a massacre, and I fear it might be inevitable.
I walk through the gardens of the sanctuary until I am far enough away that no one can see over my shoulder or listen to me. The need to check on Lucia is making me edgy, especially because now I know her father is out there looking for her. My men wouldn’t ever let him breech the island security, an unauthorized boat wouldn’t make it close enough to dock. The place is my fortress.
The security feed is grainy, and the signal isn’t great, but I can see someone working outside to board up the house. Shit — I change cameras until I find Lucia. She is in Raul’s room and it looks like she is packing. What the hell is going on? I open the weather satellite app we use to track storms, and my heart stops beating.
There is a hurricane headed straight for my island, for my family — it is on a path to destroy everything I care about. I am stuck here, too far away to do anything about it. I cannot stop the weather, I can only pray. Mother Nature can be an unholy bitch when she wants to and hope to God they shelter in the storm cellar and stay safe until I get there.
Lucia is going to have to face the storm alone, and it makes me sick. The house has stood through three of these storms and suffered only minor damage. I try to tell myself they will be fine, but no one was on the island for those three storms. We had evacuated, or it wasn’t work time, so the island was vacant.
I can’t believe I didn’t think to check before I left, I was so caught up in how I felt about going I let this slip through the cracks. The urge to leave, and try get home is overwhelming, but I know there is no chance in hell I can get there by chopper or boat in that storm.
The island will be cut off until it passes over, and even then, I would have to travel around the weather to get to them.Fuck. I can’t be asked to deal with Lorenzo, these men and their stupid shit now. I want to be alone where I can watch what is happening.
“Sal,” a voice calls from behind me, “we are going back in.” Ugh, I would rather eat shards of glass for lunch.
“I am coming,” I say and check the camera feed again. Lucia looks frightened, and I can see Raul is crying.Please God, let them be safe. Protect them when I cannot.I am in an old monastery, maybe he will hear me. I put my phone away, take a deep breath and walk back into the meeting room.
Lorenzo stands beside me and whispers, “Call the Russians, if you believe we can trust them.” They are my associates, I trust them and believe they wouldn’t turn on me, or those who I support. They will bring enough men, and guns to make sure Lorenzo stays where he wants to be. A deal with them will give him access to resources all over the world. I have been saying we needed to join forces for many years. The old guard would never entertain it — Lorenzo is not old. He pisses on tradition.
