Page 85 of Dreadful
“In that case, how would you like to see an encore performance?”
Scene 25
WHO’S THE SNAKE NOW?
Talia
“Has no one seen Percy?” Our director, Deon, wrings his hands together as he paces in the hall outside the small dressing room.
“I haven’t heard from him,” I answer. “Not since Saturday night’s show. But you know…I think he left the afterparty in a hurry.”
“And Iwarnedhim something would go wrong!” Deon’s dark-brown skin creases between his perfectly manicured black brows until his fingers smooth the wrinkles away. “We shouldneverinvoke the Scottish play, and yet he said it in front of everyone!” He groans dramatically. In the next second, though, he bounces back and snaps the air at me. “Alright, then, the show must go on. Talia, dress our understudy—wait…”
He steps closer, and his voice lowers. “Are you really okay to work tonight? You know you didn’t have to come in today, right?”
“I know.” I blink back the tears that have been nearly constant the past twenty-four hours. “I…I need this, though.”
I didn’t realize how much I thrived in the familiar chaos that being backstage brings until I got here.
Deon studies my expression before nodding once in return. He sheds his compassion like a second skin and resumes his stern, slightly stressed default setting. It’s just what I need.
“Okay, then. You’re prepped, right?”
“Always.”
“Good. I’ll tell them they’re up. But if you see Percy before I do, tell him that when I get a hold of him, I’m going to wring his neck.”
Well, what do you know? Sever already did that for you.
I keep steaming the understudy’s gardener costume without looking up until Deon disappears through the door. I usually have an excellent poker face. In this instance, though, there was no way I would’ve been able to hide the smug satisfaction on my face.
Knowing that Percy will never hurt me—or anyone else—ever again gives me the same pride I felt yesterday when I killed the priest. Not to mention that seeing Sever kill in my name woke something dark and carnal deep inside me. With everything that’s happened, I still haven’t fully processed those feelings. Now that I’m going through my list at full speed, I probably never will. Especially since it seems that Sever has taken himself out of the equation entirely after leaving me and Gio behind yesterday.
It stings that Sev hasn’t tried to contact me in some way, but I was harsh when I dismissed him. Maybe he thinks steering clear of me is for the best right now. Who knows, he’s probably right. I’ve been teetering between rage and sorrow every moment since.
After I got back from the church last night, Gio was my sole concern, and I’d gone straight to mynonni’sapartment. But it was empty. Hollow. Everywhere I looked, though, I still saw Tony.
In my mind’s eye, he was finishing the Christmas decorations. He was neatly folding the rest of the clothes in the hamper into stacks on the small dining room table. He was chewing the end of a pen as he mulled over a half-finished recipe for a new dessert he’d been concocting the past few weeks. I could almost hear the “I Love Lucy” rerun in the background like a ghostly soundtrack.
My chest had caved in, and I’d fled the room, slamming the door shut behind me.
With only one other place to look, I ran downstairs to the kitchen and found Gio sitting in the tall chair he uses to reach the top tier of wedding cakes. He sat there, holding Tony’s apron to his chest. His cheeks were damp, and his eyes were red from hours of crying.
“How many more are on your list?” he’d asked. It was all he wanted to know and all I was willing to tell him. I don’t want to implicate Gio in this anymore than he already is.
“I think two…maybe three. I haven’t decided.”
He nodded. “Make them count,dolce nipotina.”
I wanted to call out sick tonight and stay home with him, but I couldn’t. Whether we can make rent in the next few months all depends on my job at the Revere now. We need all the money we can get with the shop being out of commission for who knows how long.
The crime scene investigators need to study the scene, file their reports, and catalogue all the evidence. Everyone knows Claudio has something to do with this, but they still have to go through the rigamarole to prove they did their due diligence. Plus, they’ve got to cover their tracks.
Once they finish and Gio reopens the bakery—
Sorrow slams into me again. I’m not sure it ever left, yet I remember it’s there when it randomly hits me like a freight train without warning throughout the day.
Will Gio want to return to that kitchen after all this? What will happen to us now that Tony is gone? He told us to live, but what does that look like without him?
