I wondered at what point all the things I’d taught her would kick in, and no sooner had I had the thought than she closed her eyes, let out a deep breath, and relaxed her shoulders. With that, she walked back to the lounger, and I went back to my computer. She went back to her writing, and since she was no longer huffing, I figured we were done for the night.
I played around with the keywords I’d left running in the background as part of my wait for news from Sicily. I hadn’t called Sal yet; I figured I’d let him stew for a bit, let his anger against Ricci grow until there were no more hidden places inside of him that would be willing to excuse his son’s behavior. The fact that it is over something that hasn’t happened is neither here nor there.
He's known for some time some of what his son is. There’s no way he could’ve been around that long and not seen the signs or heard a whisper here and there. So I do not hold him guiltless in all this. He wasn’t there, didn’t hold his son’s hand when he was doing the things he did, but as a parent, he has some responsibility.
If I could learn that in the short time I myself have been a father, then someone of his age and experience should know. I know it’s just anger, and I’m obviously going to work my way through it, but I blame everyone for me missing the birth of my kids, and funny enough, I blame her less.
I blame Ricci for being part of my existence and the way in which he did it, Ma, for telling me that shit, Sal for raising an asshole like Ricci, Felice for even taking my mother there that night, and most of all, I blame them all for the fact that I’d sent Gianna away while she was pregnant with my children. But that was just anger talking because when the haze of anger fades, I’m the only one left standing on the side of wrong. It was me and none of those others who’d sent the mother of my children out in the world alone and hurt. I won’t ever forgive them or myself for this.
LYON
“Where’s Jimmy?” I was doing a headcount before turning in for the night. It’s at that point where I’d been away from my wife for too long, and I was ready to get this shit show over and done with.
“He went out for a walk; said he’s been cooped up in here for too long, and he needed some fresh air.”
“You let him go for a walk in this neighborhood, Law?”
“It’s close to midnight; what trouble can he get into?”
“For fuck’s sake, do none of you understand this Gabriel guy? Get him back in here.” There’s no way that they’re this careless. I mean, true, it is late at night, and this place is so quiet I doubt anyone has ever run a red light, but the more I study this kid, the more I know he’s not to be taken lightly. On the other hand, I know myself, and what I’m capable of, so for some reason, I find myself attributing the same traits to this kid.
It's the only way to deal with someone of his intelligence, you must stay a few miles ahead, or he’d always catch up. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when Jimmy didn’t answer the phone, and no one found him walking around the neighborhood. “Shit, doesn’t Mancini have some kind of tracking device on him?”
Tyler, who was the only other person up, punched in some keys on the computer. “It’s offline, went offline five minutes ago.”
“Shit!”
GIANNA
What’s wrong with him now? I’d been minding my business and writing in my book while ignoring him as he played on his computer. It was almost like old times except for the three perfect replicas of himself asleep on the bed just a few feet away. I heard a buzz from his phone, and then he answered. His conversation was short and terse, and all I heard was, you know where whatever that meant, and the next thing I knew, he was coming towards me with a look on his face.
“What…?” I barely got the word out before he came down on top of me, pushed my shirt up around my neck, and bit my nipple. There was a little bit of a tussle when he kneed my legs apart and parked himself there between my thighs while sucking the milk from my tit.
I tried to pretend with all that I’m worth that I wasn’t leaking like a dripping faucet down there, but I’m sure he figured it out on that first slow glide into me. “What’s gotten into you?” I don’t think I’ve seen that look in his eyes before; it was very predatory.