Page 2 of Deception

Dom fires a shot, the one on my right goes down.

Then it’s just the boss standing like a mook in the doorway, holding his piece in a limp grip, staring right at me like I’m the angel of death. I plant my heel into his chest plowing him back into the room, smashing the table.

Everything goes real quiet.

I should be excited. But there’s this sinking feeling in my stomach.

He’s bumbling, shouting, crying. I really want him to stop. To face this like a man.

Dom’s yelling my name, far off, like in another world. I should go.

So I point my gun right into the piss-soaked thug’s face.

I don’t really even remember pulling the trigger. Just the blood. So much blood all over me.

The next thing I know, I’m back in the car, we’re rocketing down the 6. “Fucking movie shit, the way you came at them Aless, you’re a goddamn terror! I have never seen anybody so scared.”

His hyena cackle raises the hairs on the back of my neck.

“How many we get?” It’s an empty question, but the only thing I can think of.

“I took the two guards, the driver. You got the leader. Fuck!” He hammers the steering wheel with his hand, bouncing in his seat. “We finally did it, boy. You and me.”

“You and me, damn straight,” I try to match his enthusiasm, but something doesn’t sit right. I shake it off, put on a smile.

Dom takes us out to the docks, we sit on the hood of the car, and he opens a bottle of scotch that he probably stole from one of our uncles. “A toast. To you, Alessandro!”

“Ha! And to you, Domenico. You’re gonna be the king one day.”

“You’ll be right there by my side, brother. With your beautiful bride. I only hope I get so lucky one day!”

“What woman could resist you, Dom?”

“That’s the problem, every old guido’s daughter wants to shack up with me. I need a queen, Aless!”

“You need to get your head out of the clouds, man.”

“Nah. One day…I’m gonna have it all.”

We sit there like that for hours. The scotch stops burning after the fourth or tenth swig. Dom’s six sheets to the wind by the time we turn in, so I drive us home in the early hours before dawn.

That nagging feeling chases me all the way.

It’s not the kill. It’s not the lack of thrill I feel for something I’ve waited so long for.

It’s not until we reach the compound, the estate, that I realize what I’m feeling.

My nonna always called itil cruccio. Her trial.

The worry she always felt when a loved one was in danger. Or worse. She said she could die for the ache of not knowing.

We come in the back like always, in the dark. I let Dom run off to the clubhouse, tell him I’ll be right there. He’ll want to get the notoriety, the pats on the back from the big guys, Lito and Tony, his cousins. They’ll still be up playing cards.

I need to check in on the boys. Make sure they’re safe.

That’s when I see that the lights are on in the house. Everyone is up. Noise. Voices.

Adriano’s standing in the doorway of the sunroom, at the back door when I cross the lawn. He looks so small, especially with a six-year-old in his arms. Ciro is fast asleep. Adriano stares right at me, doesn’t even flinch when he sees my shirt, spattered in gore. Fiero’s standing right next to him, sucking his thumb. He’s been crying.

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