Page 17 of Cruelest Contract
I’m starting to understand why people drink. Look at Angelo. A few pre-flight vodka shots chased with half a bottle of wine and he’s feeling no pain at all.
Meanwhile, my skin feels hot and hypersensitive. I’m wearing too many layers and yet I desperately want to be swaddled in a heavy down comforter plus at least two weighted blankets.
My former therapist would explain that I’m once again feeling overstimulated, a common side effect of trauma. Old memories combined with the threat of new trauma opens unhealed scars. I haven’t felt a moment of peace since I heard Gabriel is in danger. Maybe I haven’t known real peace since that day in the vineyard.
With the speed of a slap, the internal doors of my mind slam shut, refusing to show the worst images from my parents’ murder. I hear the reception music, the laughter of my family. I see the colorful sky and the approaching helicopters.
Then everything goes blank and all that’s left is the face of Julian Tempesta.
“Don’t look at it. Look at me instead.”
No doubt Julian would be puzzled to hear how often I’ve used his face as a mental focal point to keep calm. I never expected our paths to cross again. I’m having trouble adjusting to the fact that the real Julian is somewhere down there in the airport terminal.
The plane pitches closer to the ground. The long ribbon of runway is now in sight. I shut my eyes and breathe slow and deep, summoning the strength I’ll need for Gabriel’s sake.
He’s not like Angelo. Violence doesn’t come naturally to him. He always loved magic tricks and was a computer whiz. He would have been much more suited to writing endless lines of code rather than waving a gun around. I should have fought harder to free him from the clutches of our grandfather. Gabriel and I arrived in the world together. I can’t imagine remaining here alone.
To avoid hurtling into an abyss of panic, I pull my daily journal out of my bag. The first half is a page-a-day for daily organization and the second half is full of blank lined pages for lists and observations.
Alice has tried to convince me that digital writing tablets are superior but I’ve hated every single one I’ve tried. What started years ago as a therapy exercise has evolved into a vital routine that keeps me grounded. I’d give up my phone, my car keys and the microwave before I’d give up my journal.
I click a fine point black pen and locate the page with today’s date. Today has been such a clusterfuck that I failed to complete my daily task list. The pressure in my head eases as soon as I start writing.
Travel to Wyoming
Good. I can cross that one off already.
Meet the Tempesta brothers
But I’ve met them before. I chew the pen tip and add the word ‘Again’.
Buy a new litter box and cat food for Louisa
This will need to be a priority when I land. The process of packing up was rather chaotic and I forgot a few things. I couldn’t justify dragging a litter box aboard Cassio Tempesta’s private jet but I should have grabbed a bag of cat food.
I click the pen a few more times and flip to the journal portion. At the top of the first empty page I write FIRST IMPRESSIONS in neatly scripted capital letters. Then I write the name Julian Tempesta. The next three pages are for Tiberius, Gaetano and Fortunato.
Naturally, I’m hoping to find a solution that protects my brother and doesn’t require me to say marriage vows. But in the meantime, I’d be foolish not to start assessing the Tempesta brothers.
Not all marriages in the secretive upper crust of the Mafia world are arranged. My own parents were simply high school sweethearts who married right after graduation. It’s possible the Tempesta brothers never agreed to their father’s scheme. For now, I need to play along and stay prepared.
I spit my gum into a tissue and carefully store my journal seconds before the wheels of the plane bounce off the runway. The jolt knocks my teeth together.
“Christ!” bawls Angelo, bumped out of his nap.
He sits up and scans the surroundings with confusion. His bleary eyes land on me and he remembers why he’s on a plane.He hisses through his teeth, as if I’m to blame for this entire debacle.
