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I release Geneva’s hand and stand. “She isn’t going anywhere.”
Geneva pulls on my hand. “It’s okay, Dom.”
“No, it’s not. So, dad. Why you don’t tell all of us here how you had my father killed so you could take over. And take our whole family over.”
“What!? That is the most absurd thing I have ever heard.”
“But it’s not.” I reach for the photos that are in my suit pocket and throw them down in front of him. “Proof.”
“Where did you get these?”
“That shouldn’t be your first concern.” I look to mom, and she looks horrified and hurt as she starts to cry.
Mom raises from the table. “Did you have my boy’s father killed Carmine? So help me, God, you better say something.”
I swiftly move next to Carmine, pull out my gun and press it on his temple. “Start talking.”
“This is just a misunderstanding.”
Mom was seeing straight through him. “Don’t bother. You make me sick!” She looks at me as if giving me approval.
She turns her back, and I fire the shot. Geneva and my mother both jump again. His body falls to the floor. “Go in the other room, so you don’t see this,” I urge them both.
Geneva gets up from her chair and coaxes mom into the formal dining room, and I hear her soft cries as Gen consoles her. “I’m so sorry it came to this,” I hear.
Digging for my phone, I call a number. My guy that fixes shit like this.
With blood splattered on my face and my shirt, I reach for the cloth napkin to clean my face and walk to my mom.
Her fists pound on my chest, and I let it go for a minute, then I take her arms and pin them while I engulf her with mine. “I’m sorry, mama.”
The wail in her cries is breaking me, and Geneva is gutted as well as she watches.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” mom asks.
“Because I didn’t want anyone to know until I was ready to take care of it. Now we’ll have the funeral and play the loving family we always portray, then I’m taking over.”
“You’re gonna get yourself killed, Dom.”
“I won’t. The bastards get greedy, and that’s how they get killed.
“Promise me, boy.”
“I promise. Now I have someone on the way to clean this up. After, you can start making calls about Carmine having a heart attack. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Go upstairs, and I’ll let you know when to come back down.”
She disappears from my view, and I look at Geneva and immediately bring her into my arms. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Her grip is tight on both arms as she rests her head. “It’s okay. I signed up for this.”
That statement guts me. “It won’t always be like this. I promise.”
***
We stand at Carmine’s funeral and play the part as best as we can. Today is the last day in my childhood home, because Mom no longer wants to stay in that house so she agreed to come stay with me and Geneva until she figures out what she wants to do.
