Page 76 of Petrichor

“It should have been the Leone boss. It was his car, what was Moretti doing in there? Ah, Mario?” the other one asks.

Are they saying the one they wanted to kill was Don Sebastiano? And somehow they got…confused? Marco and Don Sebastiano don’t look anything alike.

Wait, did he call the scary guy Mario? He’s Art’s brother. They look nothing alike. Art is petite and delicate, full of life. This man's heartless gaze reminds me of my father, with a more vicious, sadistic aura surrounding him.

“Pfff. Plans change. Sebastiano Leone won’t go anywhere, and in the meantime, I get to play with Moretti’s toy for a while.” His smile reminds me of a reptile. Cold-blooded and brutal.

He lifts the knife. The bloodthirsty way he’s staring at me must be just like Jack the Ripper observed his victims. I don’t know where the weird thought comes from, but it magnifies my fear.

“Yeah, but Cosimo was good at finding tails. Did we have to let Moretti get him too?” The shorter one shows his disappointment.

“Shut up, or I’ll slit your throat.” Mario’s ferocious hiss turns the place silent. “He touched what wasn’t his! He should thank the fucking gods I let Moretti have him.” His eyes have turned homicidal.

He takes a step toward me as I take one back. Terror makes me tremble all over while panic erases all rational thoughts.

“There’s no escape, little toy. Many have tried and failed.” Is he a serial killer? Is that why my brain linked him with the Ripper before?

“Fuck you,” I find the courage to growl at him. If I’m going to die today, I’m going to give him hell.

“I’ll do that, if you insist. My men too. But first I need to cut you—” The door behind him bangs open, stopping his revolting description. Art comes out. He has a cut on his lip, his blond wavy hair is a mess, and the shirt he’s wearing is soaked with blood at the shoulder. What the fuck happened to him?

Mario licks his lips as he stares at him with…hunger? A desire to kill him? I can’t process what I’m seeing. Aren’t they brothers?

“My dearest.”Dearest?“What are you doing? I told you to stay put.” The creepy, sweet voice coming out of Mario is veiled with fury. It sends a shiver down my body.

“You make me want to hurl,” Art retorts. “Fly! Told you I had a shitty family.”

“How? What are you doing here?” Fuck, my throat aches.

“I’m here for you. I have a friend in Chicago. He hacked your Find My Phone app.” I see more blood slipping down his arm. Is he okay? Did his brother hurt him?

Art turn to his brother. “The cavalry is coming. So, unless you want to die, get the fuck out of here.”

“You dumb prick!” the taller man snaps. Mario suddenly turns his way and stabs his shoulder with the knife, making him grunt.

“Nobody insults him but me,” he snarls, pulling out the blade. Then he turns his reptilian eyes on Art again. “I’m not done with you.”

Is he insane?

“Go fuck yourself, you sick psycho!” Art responds. “And yes, Cosimo was such a good fuck.” Art smirks evilly at his brother.

Mario’s shoulder tremble with anger as he takes a step toward Art, like a furious bull ready to charge. I move, too, intending to punchthe bastard, when my breath catches in my lungs as a loudpop popsound suddenlyreverberates in the house.

Mario shoves Art at me and jumps inside the room, closing the door behind him. I find myself on the floor with Art on top of me, just as the back door is kicked open and Carlo and Jo barge in, shooting at Mario’s men.

When the sharp noises stop, Art sits up and slides off me.

That's when I hear Marco’s growl. “Where is he?”

One hour prior

Marco

It feels like someone reached inside my chest and yanked all my vital organs out.

I didn’t realize how much Fly’s presence calmed me. Not having him around makes me…thirsty.

I look at the bottle of whiskey on the table. An empty glass next to it. My throat feels dry, but I can’t make myself reach for it.

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