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"I'm worried about your mental health," Vincenzo muttered, narrowing his eyes as he turned his head in my direction.
I shrugged my shoulders. "You're the one with the tiger in the garden. And the dungeon. And the manhunts."
"Well, I guess we're all not so normal."
"By our standards, I'm afraid so." It was kind of ironic to talk about circumstances. The Mafia was an institution with its own rules. In the ordinary world, we would all have been perfect candidates for prison or a closed psychiatric ward. So it was just the standard that was part of our lives.
19
Vincenzo
Icould hardly believe my eyes when I saw Dea in the kitchen the following morning, even though I had specifically warned her not to enter it until I had ensured the guy's remains were gone.
Kitchens were best suited for the temporary storage and further processing of corpses. At least if it didn't disgust you that you also prepared your food on the same surfaces. Hygiene was everything.
But instead of a panicked Dea, I found her completely calm and in high spirits. She hadn't touched the guy, but she had found the cupboard where I kept the butcher's equipment needed to process dead meat into mouth-watering morsels. That in and of itself was nothing unusual, after all, I was responsible for three large cats, but with the correct information, it took on a completely different meaning.
She was even wearing an apron.Fuck.
Hannibal Lecter would not have been more proud at this point.
"You didn't want to wait for me?" I asked as entered the room. She had opened the windows and set up a damn fragrance lamp, so the smell was somewhat drowned out.
"I didn't want to your three lovely pets to get peeved waiting for their breakfast," she replied, turning in my direction.
She already had the bone saw, the hatchet, and the plastic tubs ready and placed.
Usually, I took care of that part on my own, spending the early hours of the morning trying to make all clues about what had happened during the night disappear.
We were probably at the end of it now. Also with the fact that, except Fiero and me, no one knew about the hunts. I didn't doubt her ability to keep our secret, but I did question my mental strength to see her as a permanent part of it.
It was dangerous. Bloody. Not child's play.
I remembered last night and how confidently she had performed not only with the hunt in and for itself but also dealing with the weapons.
Amedea had something in her that I had not yet been able to grasp, but one thing was sure under her pretty appearance rested something much darker. Something that could easily take on the blackness of my own soul.
"Where do you get all this aggression from?" I asked casually and picked up the axe. Body parts were easier to cut through with an axe than a saw. Under the table was a plastic sheet that would catch all that was the unsightly side effects of this work.
"You mean the aggression that led to the guy dying?"
Amused, I snorted. "That's the one."
"I just think of all the cruel, nasty, hurtful things my father has said to me throughout my life, and I can access that aggression."
That made sense. And yet it was kind of sad because, at the same time, it meant that her father's statements had taken hold enough to weigh on her permanently if she would only let them.
Silently, I set to work, always aware that Amedea was standing not ten feet away, watching me intently at every step of the process.
Now that was a topic for a therapy session with Fiero. Why did I like it so much that she kept me company during this ugly work? And more importantly, why did I not want her to be part of the whole affair but found it insanely attractive to watch her trudge through the woods chasing the asshole like she was on the trail of some cute bambi?
These somewhat abnormal thoughts had to come from somewhere. Was it because of the family I had grown up in? Or the several years I had already spent doing just that? Alone, like a man-hating hermit? Or did it simply have to do with the fact that it was Amedea? Was she alone the reason for these thoughts and not my sick psyche?
My ambivalence occupied me for quite a while because I definitely did not want her to continue to be involved. A short excursion in was enough after all. Or was it? However, I could hardly wait to take her along next time and receive the first proposal from her.
My research had been relatively basic so far. Local newspapers, anonymous tips. She would take it to a new level and make sure we had eyes and ears all over Naples. If only I let her. I wasn't quite sure if the benefits outweighed the costs.
What was the price she'd pay? I had been getting along splendidly without her. In principle, it didn't need an upgrade. No extra person to interfere. Fiero and I had everything well in hand. In every respect.
