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We didn’t talk much. We didn’t eat. He didn’t open the front door and tell me to leave again. I didn’t cross the room to open it myself. The silence was awkward, somehow expectant without either of us speaking.
I fought the urge to ask him about his life, my curiosity only held at bay because I figured he’d physically shove me out of the house if I spoke in a way that wasn’t answering his questions.
When darkness fell, the shadows cast on his face made him seem even more dangerous and that was a feat, considering I’ve witnessed him kill two men without a moment’s hesitation.
Unsurprisingly, the water runs cold long before I’m ready to get out. I do one final rinse, making sure the soap is gone before turning it off and peeking around the shower curtain. I didn’t hear him enter, but he seems like the type that could be stealthy when he needed to be. The bathroom is empty, the mirror not even fogged because the water never really got warm enough for it despite the small confines of the room.
The towel hanging on the bar is disheveled as if he’d used it at some point before bringing me here, but my look around the room for a clean one leaves me empty-handed. Although wrinkled, it’s completely dry as I pull it against my chest. There’s no fluffiness to it as it nearly scratches my skin as I dry my body. I look toward my pile of laundry, folded neatly but still covered in Julio’s blood. I gag at the thought of putting them back on, feeling childish at my instinctual reaction.
Everything in this house seems functional, but there are no real amenities.
I know I was given many more luxuries than a lot of people have in their lives. Even with the Severino family, I had more than many people could ever hope for. They needed my money, but they also have money of their own. My money meant more power, the ability to expand further. It’s not like they were in the soup line without it. I learned long ago that greedy people always want more no matter how much they have. Marcello lived every day that way, and I have no doubt that being promised to Alessio was the only reason he focused on me at all. It wasn’t that he wanted me. It was that Alessio was given something, and he wasn’t. His selfishness wouldn’t allow him to just look the other way. He had to taint and destroy anything that wasn’t his. He had to ruin it for everyone else.
I had to behave a certain way, hold my head up despite my pain. I was expected to act as if I was treated like a princess rather than let anyone know the truth about the men others respected. I wonder if they would’ve held them in such revere if those people knew the truth. I know there are people connected to the family who would be appalled with what happened at their house daily, but no one would be brave enough to go against them. Just the rumors of their brutality to their enemies kept most people under their bloody thumbs. I don’t know that they’d act any differently if they were made aware of how the brothers treated me. Maybe many of them were raised to hate my mother’s family the way many of my ancestors were raised to hate the Severinos. Maybe they want to hurt me the way Alessio and Marcello got the chance to.
I press the towel to my face as the tears start to fall. I feel weaker than I ever have. I know better than to think I’ve escaped them. I wasn’t lying when I told that man that Alessio will find me. I believe it in my soul that I’m meant to die at his hands. Thinking any differently will only bring on false hope. It will make the crash that much worse.
It doesn’t take long to get my emotions under control. I’ve been doing it for a very long time because Alessio and Marcello liked my tears too much. It was never a sign to stop but the jumping off point for them.
I glance back at my clothes, knowing I can’t put them on. I make up my mind to use the washer and dryer I saw in the corner of the kitchen to get them clean. I could easily run out there, pop them in the washer and come back in here and wait until it was time to switch them into the dryer.
I tuck the towel around myself before gathering the clothes in my hands, doing my best not to let them touch my clean body.
The bedroom is dark and silent when I pull open the bathroom door, but there’s no mistaking the large lump on the far side of the bed. He didn’t enter the room last night, but it seems my reprieve is over.
