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ChapterForty-Two
As I scrub the bloodstained floor, my mind's a blank canvas. No music, no mental play-by-play of the gruesome scene that unfolded here just hours ago. Everything feels different, like I'm detached from reality, and it scares the shit out of me. Tito - or whatever his name is - watches me warily, probably wondering if I've completely lost it.
"What's going on with you?" he asks, breaking the unbearable silence.
"Nothing," I lie, but Tito ain't buying it. He's no Marco, but he ain't stupid either. And speaking of Marco... damn, I miss him. The usual banter and laughter we'd share during these cleanups are now just echoes in my head.
"Teddy, seriously, man. You look like you've seen a ghost," Tito says, concern creeping into his voice.
"Alright, fine. You want the truth?" I sigh, realizing there's no point in hiding it anymore. "It's about that girl we decided not to kill on our first job together. I fell in love with her, but she left to take her vows."
"Damn, that's rough, man. I'm sorry," Tito says, sympathy filling his eyes. I can tell he means it, even though we barely know each other.
"Thanks," I mutter. "It is what it is. I just gotta find a way to move on, y'know? I keep trying to see her, but she won't give me the time of day. Can't think of any other way to win her back."
I continue scrubbing, trying to drown my thoughts in the repetitive motion, but it ain't working. My heart aches for her, for the life we could've had together. But maybe that's the problem. Maybe I was never meant to have a life filled with love and happiness, not in this line of work. Maybe the best thing I can do for her is let her go.
"Look, Teddy," Tito says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You gotta do what's right for you, man. You never know, maybe love will find its way back to you."
"Maybe," I say, forcing a smile. But deep down, I'm not so sure.
"Alright, I think we're done here," I announce, stepping back to survey the now spotless room. The lingering smell of bleach mixes with the metallic scent of blood that still hangs in the air.
Tito glances around, raising an eyebrow. "You sure about that?" he asks, nodding toward a corner where I completely missed a whole blood splatter.
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. My focus has been shit lately. I quickly clean up the mess and join Tito at the door. "Let's get outta here."
We head out to the van, our footsteps echoing through the empty building. The silence is unsettling, but it's better than the screams that likely filled this place not too long ago.
As we drive, the city lights blur together like a smear of watercolor outside the window. I can't help but think about how the people living their lives out there have no idea what goes on behind closed doors – the violence, the pain. And yet, they all got their own shit to deal with, right?
"Hey, Tito," I say, breaking the silence. "You got anyone in your life that you love?"
He shrugs, his eyes fixed on the road. "I dunno. There was this one girl, but it didn't work out."
"Sorry to hear that," I say, genuinely feeling for the guy.
"Thanks, but it's okay. It doesn't really matter anyway." His voice is flat, devoid of emotion. Guess he's had time to come to terms with it.
"Ever wonder if love is truly in the cards for us?" I ask, thinking about Primo and Giovanni, who managed to find love despite our line of work. "I mean, my brothers both got to marry the women they love, so who knows, right?"
"Maybe," Tito says, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "But it's hard to tell in our world."
I nod, my gaze returning to the window and the lives passing by outside. Deep down, a part of me still hopes that one day I'll find my own happiness – a life away from the blood and violence. But for now, all I can do is go through the motions, trying to hold onto whatever pieces of myself I have left.
The van pulls up to the mansion, and I can't help but notice how eerily silent it is these days. It's like stepping into a damn mausoleum. With Constantino back in charge and Carmine and Enzo six feet under, there's no one coming or going anymore. And that's just the way it has to be – if anyone found Constantino, he'd be worm food in a heartbeat.
"See ya around," Tito says as we part ways at the entrance.
"Later," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. I step inside, feeling the weight of the silence crushing me. I hate it, but I know Constantino's still working things out in his head, trying to figure out what to do next.
Dragging myself upstairs, I let out a sigh of relief when I finally reach my room. Collapsing onto the bed, I think about how glad I am that Constantino's taking over the business again. He always wanted it, even when we were kids. If things go back to the way they were before, so be it.
But even though I try to push it from my mind, I can't stop worrying about the situation with the Irish. I don't know what their response was when they found Carmine and Enzo crucified in their church, but I'm sure I'll be hearing about it soon. And it won't be pretty.
"Fuck," I mutter, rubbing my eyes. The silence in the mansion is deafening. No music, no laughter – nothing but the ghosts of memories echoing through the halls. It's suffocating, and I want nothing more than to break free from it.
As I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, I try to drown out the silence with thoughts of better times. But all that comes to mind is the blood and violence that's consumed my life. Is this really all there is for me?
