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“God, no.” My head drops, the fear revealing itself.
“What better way for him to pay for what he did than by having to endure it himself.”
“He endured enough when his wife died,” I point out.
“I’ve told you. He did not love Juliette. Not like I loved her. Gianni has never loved anyone except for you.” Piero stares at me. His skin is dull and his eyes wide.
“And what makes you think he loves me? If Gianni is what you say he is, then he loves no one. He will not care what you do to me.”
“Trust me. He loves you. I’ve seen it. I know it myself, even if he doesn’t.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
“I don’t care if I get away with it or not.”
“And what about your wife? What about your baby?”
“My baby?” Piero snarls. He leans toward me, his flesh tight across his face, the whites of his eyes glaring at me. “My baby died in the womb of his dead mother at the hands of Gianni.”
I want to scream. I want to cry, but nothing comes from my mouth. I see it now, the argument, the lies. Juliette is pregnant, but the baby isn’t Gianni’s. God, what did he do?
“Now you know.” Piero sneers “Now you know why I must do this, what he took away from me. He took everything I had and walked away with his life when it should have been the other way round.”
“No.” I cry.
“I’ve been waiting too long for this. It is time.” Piero straightens.
There’s a knock at the door, and we both turn our heads toward the noise. Piero grins and makes his way out of the room. I fumble at my restraints. I can’t take everything in. Piero and Juliette, a baby, Gianni a killer. Piero is clearly mad, but that doesn’t make him a liar. Fuck, I’m going to lose my mind, but first, I must try and get out of here.
I tug at my bindings, but they are tight and dig into my skin. There’s no way I can loosen them. I search the room for anything that might help me, but it is barren. It must have been used as a squat at some time or other, as the only things that litter the room are a few empty Ramen noodle pots and a tin of beans. There’s an old newspaper and a sleeping bag that’s so dirty I can’t tell what color it is, but otherwise, the room is empty.
The front door opens, and voices fill the room. Carl has arrived. Even without hearing his voice, I could sense his presence anywhere. They exchange a few words, the details of which I can’t make out, but they have come to some sort of arrangement. I doubt Piero has taken money from him. That isn’t his motivation, but I’m here as promised, either way.
Piero enters the room first, holding his hand out to where I’m bound as if presenting me as a gift. When Carl follows, I pull my knees up to my chest. He’s taller than Piero, his wiry frame making him look lanky. His hair has grown, and he’s wearing glasses that I’ve never seen. He studies me like I’m some sort of fake painting, and he’s searching for discrepancies.
“You can go now,” Carl hisses at Piero. Piero seems to dwarf in front of him. His big macho revenge moment has been and gone—this isn’t his scene anymore. “Wait,” Carl says as Piero is about to pass him. “Did you get the gun Cora left for you?”
“Yes,” Piero answers. “I had to use it in the coffee shop.”
“Did you fire it?”
“No.”
“Good. Leave it on the floor.” Piero seems confused. The floor? But he appears to know better than to argue with Carl as he takes the gun from inside his jacket pocket and places it carefully on the floor.
“Now, I suggest you get as far away from here as possible,” Carl instructs. Piero nods, dashes one more look at me then leaves the room. I hear the front door open and close, and now it is Carl and me. I feel sick. He steps closer to me, the floorboards creaking under his feet.
“Hello, Chloe,” he says with a wretched grin that turns my stomach.
Piero seemed manic, slightly crazy, but he didn’t frighten me. Even when I’d woken having been drugged and tied to a radiator, I still was not afraid of him. Maybe deep down, Piero isn’t capable of harming someone. He’s happy to plot, but to dirty his hands? I think not. But Carl, on the other hand. Carl, I know, and now fear has wrapped its hands around my throat and is strangling me from within.
“I bet you didn’t expect to see me again.”
“Quite the opposite, in fact.” I try to humor him since it’s the only weapon I have. Keep him talking. Delay the inevitable.
“It’s only to be expected, seeing as you have ruined everything yet again.” Carl grins. “You seem to have a habit of destroying my life. I knew I should have put an end to you all those years ago. I can sense a troublemaker, and I knew it from the minute I met you.”
“Is that why you hated me so much?”
