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Arrow grins, pulling out his phone. After a few clicks, he chuckles. “She's on the move.”
“Headed where?” Jericho grumbles, waving us toward the secret door, disguised as a bookcase, leading to a set of stairs.
“Wherever she's going, she's going fast.” Arrow squints at the screen.
Jericho stops dead when the bookcase pops open, revealing our destination. His teeth grind together when he pulls out his phone, bringing up the cameras set up all around our home.
“Holy fucking shit. She took the Maserati!” Arrow cackles, throwing his head back.
Jericho’s fingers tighten around his phone as his breaths pour from his flaring nostrils.
His precious car. The one he has covered in his garage to preserve the custom paint job he had put on there a year ago. He refuses to drive the thing, trying to keep the miles low and the tires like brand new.
“She took my goddamn car!” he shouts, nearly throwing his phone across the room.
“Don't worry, Jer. We can punish her later. With our dicks. And then, we can fuck the secrets from her lips,” Arrow says in a low voice.
Jericho's jaw tics. “Yes to the fucking. I'm going to punish her. Hard and goddamn fast. Mine first,” he growls, squeezing his eyes shut.
“No secrets?” Arrow pouts.
“No. She won't tell us. Not until she trusts us. We wait. We gather and follow. Then, we interrogate. Whatever she's hiding is huge, and I for one don't want to fuck it up by hounding her too early.” He rubs his chin in contemplation, clearly knowing what he's talking about.
‘And how do you expect to do that?’ I sign.
By the determined gleam in his eyes, I realized we're about to find out how to make Journey spill all her secrets without working too hard.
“You'll see,” Jericho says with a nod. “Now, let's fall to our knees and bleed for the family.”
What he doesn't include in his speech is the words, the family we're going to turn on their heads and make them wish they hadn't given us so much power.
“Let's do it,” Arrow says with a feral growl, marching down the darkened steps and straight into our destiny.
A fate that has been mapped out for us since we were born. Well, Jer and I, at least. Arrow, much later in life. But he was made for this. Made to be a Viotto.
Me? Sometimes I’m not sure.
I’m just tumbling through life, landing wherever Jer needs me. That’s my fate. One day, we’ll lead this town and throw Gabriel in the dirt where he belongs. Right next to my father’s grave. Only this time, all their honor will be stripped from them and their names gone from history.
One day, we’ll make this right.
And our first step is walking down these stairs into the cavernous stone room with elegant archways and a small stage to live out the fate handed to us.
“Come on, Sheppy Boy!” Arrow shouts from below with enthusiasm.
I swallow hard, peeking behind me. Arrow’s father is gone. The church is completely devoid of life, except for the three of us as we wait. The bookcase creaks when I close it behind me and make my way down the darkened stairwell. This isn’t the first time the boys and I have made our way down here. Long ago, when we were sixteen, we pledged ourselves as initiates, promising to prove ourselves before our full initiation.
That was then.
This is now.
We’re several years wiser, having been in the thick of our mafia lifestyle. Now is the time to make changes. For us. For Journey. For our future.
Jer stands in the middle of the large room at the bottom of the stairs with his hands on his hips. His eyes dart around the space, taking in the small stone platform, rising a few inches off the ground. That’s where his father will stand and where mine would have, too, during the ceremony.
“Well, boys. This is it,” he says coolly, sweeping an arm around the room. “Our destiny has finally come to fruition.”
I nod in response, soaking in the atmosphere.
