But Rella’s strong. She’s got to be.
“I’ll do my best. But Cal, why are you concerned about Charlie?” She’s looking at me curiously, her head tilted to the side, and I realize she knows something that I don’t and she’s testing me, but I don’t know what I can reveal—because I don’t know what I’m hiding.
“There’s something going on with Vince and Charlie. Grace is convinced about it and I trust Grace’s intuition on this. Why, do you know something?”
She shrugs a little and looks away. “No more than everyone else living here does.”
“What am I missing, Rell?”
“They argue. A lot.” She’s silent for a few second and I focus on the rhythm of my heart, the thump, thump, thump. “It’s not always him though. Sometimes it’s her just… going off. Small things make her lose it, like he’ll say something wrong and she just freaks out on him, or sometimes he won’t do anything at all and she’ll still start shouting. They fight like they’re going to fucking kill each other, Calvino.”
The fear in her face feels so familiar to me—it’s the look she used to have when Dad would shout at Mom during one of their rare arguments.
“I didn’t know,” I say, my jaw tense. “Nobody told me.”
“It’s not easy to talk about, and I think everyone’s still thinking about Dad and Mom, you know? We didn’t talk about them when it was happening.”
“But still, Vince and Charlie? I thought they were so good.”
“It started up after Mom and Dad died. Like a week after the funeral, they got into this huge argument, throwing shit, screaming at each other. I still don’t know what it was about, only that Charlie kept saying, ‘You should’ve fucked him then! You should’ve fucked him!’ and I have no clue what that’s supposed to mean. That was one of the worst fights, but it’s been getting more and more frequent.”
“Has Vince, you know.” I glare at her. “Hit her?”
“I don’t think so.” She sighs and stares down at her hands. “I haven’t seen the marks anyway. More likely she’s the one doing the hitting. I see scratches and shit on Vince’s face. I don’t know what’s happening between them, but it’s been fucking scary.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulder and hug Rella tight once before I let her go. “Keep an eye on them and tell me the next time it happens. And, Rell… listen to what they’re yelling about.”
She grimaces. “You want me to spy on the Don?”
“I want you to spy on your older brother so we can make sure that Charlie’s safe. Do that for me, please?”
“I’ll try, but no promises. If Grace is wrapped up in all this, I’m seriously worried for her.”
“We’ll make sure she’s okay.” I nod to her once and turn away. “I’m going to head inside. You coming?”
“I think I’ll stay up here a little while longer. It’s such a nice night.”
I nod and leave her alone. On my descent down the stairs and into the main second floor hallway, I keep thinking about Vince and Charlie fighting, about them screaming loud enough that everyone in this massive mansion hellhole can hear. It must be bad if they’re getting that intense, especially if it’s freaking out Rella—not much rattles her—and I can’t imagine Charlie getting angry enough to scrape her fingernails down Vince’s face. I haven’t seen wounds like that on him, but there are times where I don’t see him for weeks on end, and I just assume he’s busy with work.
Maybe he’s busy hiding the scratches his wife’s been leaving.
What the hell else have I missed in this house? I move out and suddenly the place starts to fall apart, like losing Mom and Dad uncorked all the family secrets, anger, and drama, and let them spill out like rancid wine.
Downstairs, I head for the bar in the living room to refill my drink, preoccupied with thoughts of Charlie and Vince throwing things at each other and screaming at the top of their lungs. What could possibly make Charlie that angry? I’m sure being married to Vince isn’t easy—being the Don’s wife never is, no matter how kind of a man a given Don happens to be—but Charlie always seems so calm and centered and happy, especially with little Emilio around. What the hell could set her off like that?
I pour whiskey in my glass, drop in two ice cubes from the bucket, and start as someone calls my name.
Vince stands near the windows watching me with a slight smile on his lips. I was so distracted that I hadn’t noticed him standing there, watching someone in the back yard. I refocus my gaze out the window and spot Charlie sitting by the pool.
He’s standing there, staring at her.
“What are you doing, brother?” I ask and walk toward him.