Page 60 of Truth
“I’m calm,” I answer, my voice steady.
“That was for me. It’s Luca… King, I’ve been calling, banging on the damn door. I was afraid someone had gotten to you too.”
What the fuck does “too” mean?
All I see is red. Just raw rage. “What the fuck do you mean ‘Luca’?” I lunge forward, pushing the gun closer to George’s temple and searching his terrified face for answers until I see a smaller hand cover my own, trying to lower my gun.
“Dominic, put the gun down.” I barely make out what she’s saying. My head swings back between her and George. And I push it to his head harder as a broken sob escapes my mouth. “I don’t understand, I don’t understand.” Their mouths are moving, but my head is buzzing like I’m in some kind of wind tunnel. I drop my hand to look at her face. “I don’t understand.” Pain racks my chest as I back away, digging the barrel into my chest, unable to control the sobs coming out.
George takes a cautious step toward me and takes the gun from my hand, passing it to Drew. He grabs my face, forcing me to focus on him. “He’s been beaten—real bad, King. He’s not going to make it. We need to go. Now, because right now he’s still alive. You need to get there.”
I nod, but my body is on autopilot, taking the clothes offered to me by Drew. We dress quickly and grab our phones from the kitchen. The crunch of the glass grabs my attention as we walk out of our home and crawl into our waiting car.
Drew is on the phone. I can’t even concentrate on what she’s doing. She’s been making calls since we got in the car. I think—I don’t even know what I think…Luca. Not fucking Luca. It should be me. He’s the better of us. He deserves to live his life, be a father, grow old. Why would someone hurt him? He doesn’t have enemies; his life is clean. Why would someone attack him? A beating is a message. It’s retaliation.
“How,” I whisper, and the car falls silent. I draw my heavy head up to look at George’s profile in the driver’s seat.
“They grabbed him outside of Church tonight. Beat him and left him for dead. I went by to check on him like you asked and saw him.” His voice falters. “King, they left him in the fucking gutter. Left him like some kind of animal.”
I want to rip the car to shreds, crush the metal with my bare hands. I’m engulfed with rage and despair; his death will be my death.
This is my fault. He was only there because I was too busy playing house.
This is my fault. I failed him.
This is my fault. I hate him. I hate myself.
My fists ball up, and I grab at my hair, letting out a guttural scream. My breathing is as violent as I feel. “Call my uncle. Tell him I want them brought to me. Alive.” My voice is raw. I scream again, unable to rid myself of the darkness, so I throw my fists into the back of the seat in front of me.
“Dominic! Stop! Stop, Dominic!” Drew reaches for me, but I can’t feel her touch. I stop hitting the chair, my breath labored, hanging my head and gripping the back of my neck. She wants me to think rationally, be a good person. She doesn’t understand—if I wasn’t so goddamn preoccupied with her, I would have kept my brother safe. He was hurt because of me, probably in place of me. I could’ve kept him safe. It’s the only thing my father ever asked of me.
“You have to be the one, Dominic. Luca isn’t like us; he doesn’t see the devil behind people’s smiles. He needs you to protect him. It’s why you came first. It’s why I came first. We have to protect our brothers. I left so he could live. It may not have been the best life offered, but I left so he wouldn’t be robbed of his life for the sake of power and control. You have to protect Luca above all. He is your blood, your famiglia. Promise me, Dominic.”
Shaking my head, I try and rid the memory from my mind. Drew squeezes my shoulder, and I pull away from her.
“King, don’t do that. Let me be here.”
My anger boils over, hatred and venom erupting from my mouth seamlessly. “You being here is the goddamn problem. If I hadn’t been so focused on pussy, my brother wouldn’t be dying in a fucking hospital room instead of me.” She grabs for my hand again. “Get the fuck off me.” I make the mistake of looking at her face. Pity. She pities me because I’m dying along with Luca. “I hate you.” My vision becomes blurry, my sight watered down by my grief.
She grabs my shirt and jerks me to her, forcing me to look at her. “It’s okay. Be mad, hate me. It’s okay, baby, it’s okay… It’s not your fault. Let it out, Dominic. I can take it.” She pulls me to her body, and I go, sinking my face into her stomach to muffle my wails. I let go, wrapping my arms tighter around her waist as I do. I grip her body, desperate for an escape from my hell. My cries eventually calm, but I stay where I am, wrapped in the woman who would love me through my hatred. I hear her voice drift through the silence.
“George, when you speak to Dominic’s uncle, tell him to bring these scumbags to Church. They should take their last breaths mixed with the gutter water they left Luca in.”
My fallen angel.
WE ARRIVE AT THE HOSPITALand make our way to the waiting room of the ICU. The stench of death is everywhere, permeating the walls and making my skin crawl. I’m met by a doctor, who explains Luca’s condition and his chances. I can barely listen. I need to get to him. I’m two seconds from ending this doctor’s life when Drew speaks up.
“Excuse me, Doctor, perhaps you could tell me the particulars and we could get Dominic in to see his brother?”
“Yes, yes of course.” A nurse motions for me to follow her back, and I kiss the inside of Drew’s wrist in appreciation as I leave to spend my brother’s final moments with him.
The walk back is exactly fifty-three steps, but the hardest are the seven from the door to his lifeless body littered with tubes and wires. He doesn’t look like himself; he’s bloodstained and bruised, every part of his body swollen and riddled with the consequence of someone’s hatred. I keep trying to walk forward, but my feet won’t move. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to say goodbye.
I stand at step five and watch his chest move every time the machine makes a whoosh sound.
Taking two more steps, I stop, mesmerized by the rhythmic beeping of his pulse, closing my eyes to try and remember the sound.
On step two the machine starts beeping strangely, and the room fills with people moving around him and shoving me aside and screaming at me to leave, but I can’t. I have to be here. A nurse comes to push me out of the room, but I push back. I only see Luca. I can feel him dying.No, no, no…this isn’t happening.
