Page 51 of Blinded By The Sun
King
Iwatch as Ciro packs his clothes. I didn’t know he did it himself. It’s fascinating and I do something I’ve never done before in my life; I grab my cell and take a picture. Ciro doesn’t know what he even looks like when he’s in his own world. He definitely looks good in a suit, but I like him out of the suit even more. When he’s relaxed; a simple pair of jeans, a t-shirt, his hair pulled back into a simple ponytail and most of all, him barefoot. He’s so damned beautiful and the icing on the cake is his best dog buddy or rather his dog child that’s sitting by the suitcase watching him pack. Ciro can callPoutinea traitor all he wants but I know thatPoutineloves the man just as much as he loves him right back.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask Ciro.
“Yeah? Like permission to take a picture of me?” he says looking at me.
I snicker. “No, I would not ask that, but what? I can’t post pictures of you?”
Ciro scoffs then smirks. “You can do whatever pleases you. I’m not used to it. Me and the deadcochondidn’t do that. She wasn’t a fan of pictures, so we didn’t really take any.”
“What about what you want? Did you like taking pictures?” I ask.
He tilts his head; his nose crinkles a little and purses his lips a little, which means he’s thinking about it. “I took up photography as a side thing before I took over this territory back in my early teens.”
I am intrigued. “Yeah? Do you still have pictures of what you took?”
“Hmm, yeah, somewhere around the house. I’ll show you when we come back. For now, ask me what you would ask.”
“Oh! Yeah, soPoutine,when did you first get him?”
“Got him 6 years ago. My baby sister, Cira, got him for me before she passed away. She said it was a birthday gift.” He gives a sad smile. “She said he was supposed to keep me company and bug me like she used to do. She was 20 years younger than me. My parents adopted her when her mother died in childbirth. Can you believe being a big brother at 20 years old and fully into this mafia life? I didn’t have time for her, but when she visited, she would bug the shit out of me. Like I had to take her everywhere. This was before I got married. But I did it, I took her wherever and I loved my baby girl because no adoption or different skin color could tell me she wasn’t my sister.”
I want to hug him, but I stay where I am. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” I smile at him. “Matteo never told me all of that, but he said that someone who passed away gave youPoutineand that’s why you love him so much.”
Ciro faces me. “What do you mean?”
“He told me about your inability to have children and that the person who gave youPoutineknew about your condition but they didn’t want you to know they knew. They felt like the closest thing besides them wasPoutineand also that you would never forget them after they passed. He told me you named him after her favorite food, I just assumed it was Tatyana.”
Ciro looks up and shuts his eyes. He clears his throat a couple times and then opens them. “That thoughtful little sister of mine.”
“How did she…” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“Cancer. I stayed by her side through it all. Cira was my little angel, and she was strong through it all. She was a beautiful soul from her big hazel eyes to her big hair that she made me braid down every time she came to visit or when I went there.”
“Baby…” is all that I can say because what more can I give him? “Can you come here for a second?” I say to him.
Ciro stops packing and I scoot further up the bed. He follows me, crawling over to me and instead of lying next to me; he lays his head on my stomach and wraps his arms around me. One hand goes inside my shirt to my back and the other one is idle. “I’m here,” he says.
I snicker. “I know, I can feel you all over me.”
“Yeah?” He teases.
“Mm-hmm.” I go off instinct and remove his hair out of his hair tie. I run my fingers in his hair. “I knew a woman was like my mother, well she was like someone who raised me, an older sister, I guess?”
“Yeah? What was she like? Tell me about her…” Ciro breathes.
Poutinejoins us as he comes over closer to Ciro, he whimpers at him but all Ciro does is pet him.Poutinelays down and shuts his eyes as he places his forehead on Ciro’s. This moment makes me want to cry because how did I get here? To have both a boyfriend I love already with my whole heart and his trusty dog that saved my life too. Ciro may not have said he loves me, but I feel it more than anything. It makes me wonder what is going on with me. Why am I feeling all these emotions? So much is hitting me crazily. I take a deep breath and share with someone that I care about, things I have never told a soul.
“The lady, Macy, she raised me, sort of. She is the one who found out how smart I was. Now that I think about it, she was young herself, too young to be there, mentally but legally, she could be wherever she pleases. Because of Macy, I learned that being myself isn’t a problem. She taught me how to read, write, and even play the piano. Macy was, well, I guess I could say she was like my mother. She protected me from my uncle’s demand to be ready earlier than she wanted. Macy taught me how to be sexy, but not too sexy. How to blend in, in the background, how to be submissive. As you know, my father, he never once asked about me or anything like that, but he would still come see my uncle sometimes. I saw him once, just once, I am the spitting image of him but different in skin color and height. He never knew I saw him, and I never told my uncle either.”
“Does your father know you’re alive?” Ciro asks.
“No, my uncle told him I was dead.”
“Why?”
“My uncle said it was because there was money involved and if my father knew, he’d kill me. I never asked and Macy, she told me to stay away from all of that. She said that although my father was of great influence in the crime world, he couldn’t rescue me from this life. That his wife wouldn’t have allowed a mutt like me to be seen. Macy and her choice of words didn’t offend me. She never sugar-coated anything. Because of her, I learned to be thick skinned, learned to enjoy my first time, and even when those who were too old to be looking at me when I wasn’t ready to perform, she taught me never to look them in the eye. She would say, do nothing to provoke them to touch, look or even whisper words to you. She told me that if ever one of them tried to get to me or to want me as their own that I should kill myself, but we all know how that failed epically.”
