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“Fuck you.” His arm straightens. “You think you have power over me because you’re ‘capo.’” He laughs loud. “When we both know you’ve been scared of me since we became friends in high school. That’s why you hide. Spineless prick. You need to fuck her to get some level over me or something. The fuck is it, huh?” He turns his gun sideways.
“Marco, please,” I beg, but his face only tenses up more at the sound of my voice.
Castor takes another step forward, the headlights casting him half in shadow. “I love your sister, Marco. I don’t know how it happened, but it came like a whirlwind. If this is the way it has to be… if I – your fucking brother in all but blood – am not good enough for her, pull the trigger.” He shrugs, testing him.
My heart is pulsing in my ears. I can’t hear my own thoughts. Biting my knuckles does nothing.
Don’t do it, Marco.
Please.
Marco’s teeth grit hard. His jawline looks like it’s about to snap, and he hasn’t blinked once.
“Ahh!” Marco screams, firing a full magazine into the air and then hurling the gun at Castor.
Castor ducks the flying weapon, then tenses to defend against the psycho charging at him.
“Piece—of fucking—shit!” Marco wails on Castor – who throws his arms up like a boxer to block.
“God, oh God,” I talk to myself as I stand there helplessly. If I get in the middle of that, my own brother might smash my head in. “Stop!”
As soon as Marco lets up, Castor breaks from his block and knocks Marco right in the face. His head jerks back, blood leaking from his lip, followed by an angry laugh. “I’m going to enjoy strangling you to death with my bear hands, Cast. You had me fooled good. Piece of shit.”
Marco throws another hook that Castor ducks, then receives a swift counter-punch to the face. Blood splatters over the concrete floor.
“That’s it, I’m calling the cops!” The homeowner has had enough. “Get the hell off my property!”
I notice bruises forming on both their faces, but there’s nothing I can do but scream.
“What, Gia, you can throw me to the wind, but fucking him behind my back is okay? You won’t even look at your own fucking blood,” Marco yells at me while throwing more haymakers at Castor. “We’re the same—” Another hook. “—Fucking—” One more – this one connected under Castor’s jaw. “—Person!”
Castor spits blood and emerges to his full height, dwarfing Marco in mass. Anger reels in his eyes.
“Oh, here he comes, the big man who hides.” Marco slaps his own chest.
“I just didn’t want to hurt you,” Castor snarls. “But I guess you need a fucking lesson too.” He ducks into Marco’s space, avoiding a quick fist, then grabs Marco by the hair and headbutts him stumbling back.
Marco’s next laugh sends chills through me. His face is a bloody mess, and by no means should he still be standing. But he seems to enjoy it.
“That’s the difference between you and me, Cast. I’m not afraid of anything.” He puffs his chest, then lifts his fists again. “You can hide all you want, I’ll find you eventually. And I’ll fucking kill you.”
He rushes forward, and this time they grapple. My brother is so coked-up he’s able to match Castor’s strength. They both scrape hard against the ground as fists wail.
I can’t take it and desperately grab for Marco’s arm only to be shoved back by sheer force.
“Stop!” I cry.
“I save you from the Italians—” Castor cracks him in the face with his elbow. “Rescue you from the Colombians—” Another hard hit connects with his cheek. “— bail you out of your own fuckin’ stupor.” He lifts up, straddled over the lesser, breathing heavily. “And still it’s not enough? What’s it going to take, Marco? Huh? Fifteen more years?”
Marco shouts and whips a blurring punch right at Castor’s throat, sending him rolling again. “Nobody in our line is good enough for her, especially not you. Snake fuck! Every added year is a strike against you. Fucking piece of— argh!”
Poomf! Castor punches Marco so hard he rolls off of him, coughing in a push-up position.
They stare at each other, both gasping and bleeding all over the stranger’s backyard. I’m holding my hair, at a loss.
“Well?” Castor’s out of breath. “Are we done? Am I good enough for her yet?”
Marco starts laughing like a hyena, which both relieves and terrifies me. He sits on his backside and lights a cigarette – the flame illuminating his blood-ridden, swelling face.
