Page 101 of Hearts Held
Chapter 36: Everett
God’s Gonna Cut You Down, Johnny Cash
The harsh wood cuts into my back as I watch the leader of the Italiano mafioso, Mr. Sabini, enter the cottage with his burly men. Hisnine-livesson, Michael limps after him.
You know that fucker should thank us for not killing him.
This is the meeting we have been waiting for.
Extensively planning for months.
Mr. Sabini gives a small smile.
A smile, for fuck’s sake. After all the carnage.
All the destruction.
Then he pulls a chair out from under the table. The sound of scratching wood pierces my ears. The tensionpalpable, as I feel Marcus square up from the corner of the room. I only brought a handle of men but we have a back up plan and if all else fails we are gearing up for a fight.
We sit in a neutral zone, outside of Lockham city, in my mother’s old abandoned cottage. The onehegifted her.
“So, you and my mother?” I ask Mr. Sabini as he sits down. His fingers interlace with one another atop the rickety dining room table.
“Yes,” he states, pursing his lips together.
“Did you love her?” I ask plainly, assessing his facial features.
Michael snorts as he crosses his arms and leans back against the wall.
Mr. Sabini glares up at Michael. “Have some respect for the deceased.” Then he peers back at me, a solemn look in his gaze. “I thought I did. I made some mistakes, many mistakes. But once I realized how crazy, how narcissistic your mother was, I knew I needed to bow out. The extent she would go to betray her own family was terrifying. I didn’t realize she wouldlead to her own demise. Then to murder those poor women… Gruesome. So gruesome.”
“She deserved to die,” Michael Sabini states coldly from the corner of the room, his voice coming closer as he begins walking to the table.
“She deserved to die as much as your brother did,” I state.
Then a flurry of events occurs. Michael Sabini pulls a gun out and aims it at the back of my head. The cold metal barrel is flush against my skull.
Mr. Sabini glares at his son, partially standing from his chair. “Don’t fuck this up for us.”
Michael snorts. “You have let them run us around too goddamned much, Father! If anything, I should kill you both right here, and then I could win. I could take over!” he sneers.
His father sits back in his chair and rolls his fingers on the table.
“You wouldn’t understand half the shit I do to keep this business alive. To keep this fucking family alive!” he yells, emphasizing his words with his fingers pinched together in the air. “For example, you had no idea the Germans were in town. Krauts were making it look likewe were stealing from them, to sabotage our partnership. But no! You were too busy thinking you were mister big and bad, running around shooting, fucking and being a damned moron with your brother. You know it was a fucking blessing they killed Giorgio, because your mother would have never forgiven me if I did it myself!”
Michael’s eyes widen as he opens his mouth to speak, the gun still pointed at the back of my head.
“No! Silencio, you fucking talking sperm!” Mr. Sabini hollers. Then the men begin ranting at one another in Italian.
I clear my throat. “Can you settle your family quarrel in my absence?” I ask.
Michael abruptly pushes the cold metal barrel into the back of my head again. “I’m in fucking charge. I have a gun to your head!” he snarls.
I begin to laugh, for the first time in a long time. I clutch my stomach and let the ludicrous sound flow from me. This must be how Bobby felt before he realized Tilly was still alive.
Opening my eyes, I find Mr. Sabini, hand over his face, with a puzzled look behind his fingers.
“What the fuck is so funny!?” Michael beltsout.
