Page 6 of Luciano

And Vito was the one who killed her.

I hadn’t seen it happen, but I was there. Hiding under the bed in the house my father had left us.

It was two years after they married. I was sixteen. That evening, Momma picked me up from basketball practice like any other day. But instead of heading back to Vito’s house, she drove us to this house. Our old home in Saint Pete.

Everything was still the same. Like it had been waiting for us. A time capsule of the life we once had.

I remember being shocked that she had brought me there—especially without Vito knowing. By then, he rarely let her out of his sight. He had men tailing her everywhere. Always watching.

Especially after he caught her cheating the second time.

I was surprised he hadn’t killed her the first time. Daddy would have.

"You leave me, I’ll kill you. You give somebody what’s mine, I’ll kill you."

But Vito wasn’t like that.

His possessiveness was different.

More twisted.

Maybe he was even deluded enough to think he loved her.

Momma, on the other hand, hated him. I could see it in the way she held herself when he was around, the way her body stiffened under his touch. The way she always seemed disgusted just to exist in his presence.

That night, she seemed different.

She had lit a cigarette, something she only did when she was stressed.

I asked her what was wrong.

She sighed. Long. Weary. As if I were a burden she didn’t have time for.

“Ava, go find something to eat, then shower and go to bed,”she said flatly.“I’ll explain everything in the morning.”

I did what she asked, believing there would be a morning.

I regret, to this day, not making her tell me then.

Later, when the crickets were at their nosiest, she burst into my room.

Snatched me from sleep.

Her hands were shaking.

“Hide,”she whispered.

Her breath smelled like fear and cigarette smoke.

She told me about the money she had hidden under the floorboards in her room. About the bank account in my name. She told me I needed to take the Greyhound to my grandfather’s house in Watts, California.

Then she pressed a dry kiss to my forehead.

"Them gang nigga’s were loyal to your daddy, they will keep you safe there."

She promised she’d meet me later.

Then she shoved me under the bed.

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