Page 66 of Killer Love

“They’re old folk tales,” he says. “Children’s stories and such.”

I flip the book open and thumb through the crinkled, old pages, admiring the unique illustrations scattered about every other page. “Why are you reading this?”

He looks at the fire beside us. “I met my son yesterday and I thought he might enjoy them.”

I smile, watching the flame flicker in his eyes. “He’ll like them very much, I think.”

I turn the pages again, landing on the spot with his bookmark and I pause, somehow recognizing the faded red ribbon marking his place.

“That was yours,” Luka says.

I pause, briefly counting the years. “You’ve had this since…”

“I always meant to give it back to you, but I never had the chance.”

I strum it with my fingertips, stunned to silence. Luka has kept me with him all this time.

“Sofia, I’m sorry,” he says.

“For what?”

He hesitates, his eyes growing dark. “I wish I had gotten there sooner. I wanted to save her, too.”

I try to banish the blood from my memory, but it prevails. “That wasn’t your fault, Luka. That was mine.”

“It was his,” he says. “Him and that… damn family.”

I thumb the ribbon again before closing the book and laying my hand over the hard cover. My diamond ring glistens on my finger in the changing light and a weight twitches my shoulders. This used to feel like a chain binding me to Gio, but I am far from Italy now.

A Zappia no more.

“I guess I don’t need this now…” I say, sliding the ring off my finger. I set it down on the fireplace and relish in the freedom of the act.

Luka stands up and wanders across the room to his desk. “In some cultures,” he says, “destroying a token of affection signifies a divorce.”

He grabs something from a drawer and returns to the fireplace to hand it to me.

A hammer.

“I don’t think divorce is mentioned in Zappia law,” I say. “I believe they take ‘til death do us part quite literally.”

“To hell with Zappia law.” He gestures at the ring between us. “Go ahead.”

I hesitate, feeling the weight of the hammer in my grip, but it’s lighter in comparison to that damned diamond ring.

It’s just a ring. Just a tiny rock on a band of gold. It’s the only thing I have left tying me to Giovani and the Zappia cult.

I shift, straightening my posture and holding the hammer with both hands. Luka looks on and smiles with amused eyes, waiting with patient anticipation.

I take a deep breath before bringing the hammer down — and I miss.

He chuckles. “Try again.”

I slam the hammer down once more, this time clipping the golden band, jarring a line into the edge. I hit it again, smacking the diamond itself and it rattles free of its spokes. I take one last look at it before slamming it all a final time.

“How did that feel?” Luka asks.

I laugh. “Really fucking good,” I answer, ecstatic tears filling my eyes.

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