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Luca watches my father for a few moments. “You trust me?”
“Trust is built from taking a chance. We’re at war now Lucas, and as the new Don of the Colombinos, I will do nothing but trust you. I made a pledge with your father that we’d all cooperate. I mean to stand by that.”
He nods and I see him swallowing again. He scratches his nose. “Okay then. This place is only known to myself and my father. Not many other Colombino’s know of it, if any.”
“That’s perfect for right now.”
“But do you trust your men?” Luca asks. “I need to know.”
“Of course. I’ve vetted my men since speaking with you a couple weeks ago.” Why?”
Luca steps towards us, he gestures at the phone still clutched in my hand. “We need to destroy all the phones. When I was inside, I received a text from our blackmailer. They gave some details that have only arisen in the last weeks. Which means our Manetti rat is also a spy.”
My father's jaw tightens and I feel his body go rigid.
We can’t trust anyone.
“Do you still feel like gambling?” Luca asks.
“I must,” my father says. “Or your father died for nothing. And the Manettis will destroy us all.”
Chapter 18
Luca
Allmylifemyfather was this giant to me. Even though I’m taller than him, even though I have muscles like an ape, he’s always towered over me. But now, looking at his semi-charred body down on the morgue slate, he’s so tiny.
The cloth is pulled back and only shows his head.
I rub my eyes and keep staring at him, taking him in and letting it wash over me. I’ve lost him. I’m an orphan now.
It still hasn’t hit me. But that’s because I’m putting everything into wanting to kill who did this. I’m taking everything that has happened to him, so that I can do it tothem. The Manettis. I’m taking it in so that I can give it back tenfold.
I take the sheet in my hand and uncover the rest of him. I need to see it again. I need to see what they did to him again. The peeled flesh and wounds. The torture. It enrages me that someone would do this to him.
I cover the sheet back up but still pause at the head. I can’t get past the head. I can’t cover his face. I can’t say goodbye.
It’s too soon.
My hand is shaking. The anger that’s boiling is simmering and turning to pain. It’s going cold and threatening to break from me, pulled like a bad tooth.
I keep inching the sheet further. I know I can do it. But I just don’t want to.
The hand of the mortician takes the sheet with me, she looks into my eyes and nods. “It’s okay,” she says. “You don’t have to.”
“I need to,” I say back, staring at the middle-aged woman with kind eyes. I bet she’s done this more than she cares to admit. “It’s the only way forward,” I say. I swallow, the sheet good and bunched in my fist now, I slide it over his face and say goodbye forever. “It’s done,” I say to her.
I close my eyes and turn around. The hurt hits me like a punch right into my heart. I cough and it turns into a choke. I try to push the pain away and roll my shoulders.
I’m the Don now.
I’ve got to look after the family.
I turn back to the mortician and thank her. I pass her and never look back. Gammie will organize my father’s funeral. She knows everything, she used to do all the will stuff with him since Ma …
I flee the basement and morgue. I walk the halls of the hospital and keep turning and taking doors until I’m good and lost. The white walls all become the same and the lines on the floor mean nothing. Nothing until I find a dark corridor and a corner where I can just take a moment.
I close my eyes. But my father is still there. He’s burned into my brain. So small and frail on that mortician’s metal altar. He’s only a mere shadow of the man that my father was. My thoughts stir again, returning to the torture of knowing that it was too late, knowing that I couldn't do anything … That he was already dead when I found out. Dead by a few hours. How long had it taken him to die? How long had he been tortured before he’d finally been released and been able to seek out Ma? How long had it all happened while I fuckingslept?
