Page 33 of Death Of A Sinner

He looks up at me and says nothing. He doesn’t care if I shoot him right now. In fact, he wants it. Realising how easy that would be for him, I lower my arm.

“Let’s go,” I direct to my brothers and my men.

“I ripped him off. He did this to get back at me. I deserve it, Gio. Kill me. He did this to them because of me,” Tommy yells out.

Turning to him, I take one last look at my sister and mother. “I’ll make arrangements for their funerals, and I’ll see you in hell. But I’m not going to be the one to send you there. You did this. Now you have to live with it.”

ChapterTwenty-Two

Inever believed in Marcel’s talk about curses before. But right now, as I stare at the two coffins in front of me—one holding my mother, the other the little sister I was only just getting to know—I’m starting to think that maybe there’s something to it.

“Do you think the curse dies with her?” I ask him.

“Bro,” Marcel says, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Not the time,” he tells me.

“I was starting to like having a little sister. There was so much I wanted to teach her, learn about her.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sighs.

Gio, Santo, and Vin all walk in with their wives. They slide in next to us in the front row. Tommy and the biker boys are on the other side of the church. He can’t look at us. I get it. He’s responsible for their deaths. I don’t know how he’s even still alive.

Why the fuck hasn’t he taken himself out? And why did Gio let him live?

“His suffering is more pleasurable to watch than his death,” Gio replies under his breath. Sometimes I wonder if the fucker can read minds.

“Agree,” Santo adds.

“Guys,” Ellie hisses.

I tune out the priest. I know I should listen, but I’ve been to far too many of these things and I know they’re all the same. People died. We’re going to bury them and then we’ll go on with our lives. It fucking sucks, but it’s how things are. I would have loved to have been able to know her better, though. Esther.

Gabe asked if the curse dies with Mary. Fuck, I sure hope so because I’m getting sick and tired of funerals. I should have done more to learn about her while she was here. I should have spent more time with her. If one of us had been with her, this never would have happened. We never would have let that asshole within ten feet of her.

But, now, we’re burying not only our mother (again) but also our sister.

When I first heard Mary had another child, I felt a lot of resentment towards Esther. She got the mother we didn’t have. She was loved. We weren’t. But I also wanted to know her. I wanted a relationship with her. I wanted to be Esther’s brother.

Funerals fucking suck. I can see why people wear black. Why the atmosphere is so thick with sadness and hopelessness…

It’s not just about the loss of whomever died. These things remind us of our own mortality. That our time on this earth is limited.

Honestly, I always knew I’d have to bury a sibling. Odds are you will when you have so many of them. But I never thought I’d be burying a little sister. Esther was so full of life. It wasn’t supposed to end like this…

I think I spent the most time with Esther out of all of us. She was a cool kid. I really liked her. As far as little sisters go, she was probably the one I’d pick if I had to. But this family is fucked up. We’re being punished for something.

Why else would we find her, only to have her taken away a few weeks later?

I wanted to hate Mary. I tried really hard to hold on to that hatred. But the more time I spent with Esther, hearing stories of her childhood with the woman who was a stranger to the rest of us, the more I realised that my mother was just another victim.

I thought I had time, though. I thought I’d be able to get to know her eventually. I didn’t take her calls when she tried to reach out, and I didn’t answer her text messages either. And now I’m burying her. Marcel was right. This family is fucking cursed. But I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to my wife.

I squeeze Cammi’s hand. We’ve had appointments with her doctors. I’ve called them without her knowledge to double-check that her heart isn’t going to fail from this pregnancy. Don’t get me wrong… I want our child. Iloveour child. But I also want my wife. I want her alive.

I look over to Tommy. I won’t ever be him. Sitting there while his wife is in a casket. It’ll be just like today: two bodies, two coffins.

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