Luca let go of his hair, and Mario's head fell back onto his chest. "I was saving him for you, amore."
"And what the fuck do you expect me to do with him?" My stomach rolled, and I thought I was going to be sick.
"Whatever you'd like."
I stared at what was left of the man who'd made my life hell ever since Luca had brought me into their game. "I don't want to do anything with him," I told him. "Can I go home now?"
Luca's mouth twisted and he turned to look down at his brother. "This pezzo di merda—this asshole!—killed your sister." His eyes, black in the shadows of his face, caught mine. "He tried to kill your parents. He would've killed you. And me. And you want me to what? Let him go?"
As the shock of his appearance began to wear off, something stirred in my gut. He was right. The son of a bitch didn't deserve to be let off easy. But this wasn't me. "Do what you want with him, Luca. But I don't want any part of it."
He swiftly closed the distance between us and grabbed my chin in his bloody hand, forcing me to look at him. "That's not what you want."
I met him look for look. "You don't know what I want."
"Yes. I do."
Something cold and hard touched my hip as he let go of my face. Without thinking, I automatically wrapped my hand around it, feeling cold metal against my palm. I looked down. It was a gun. I shook my head and tried to hand it back to him. "No, Luca. Take it back."
Holding his hands up in front of him, palms toward me, he backed away.
I held it out to him. "I'm not shooting anyone. I can't. Especially not someone who's unconscious."
Luca spun around on his heel and stalked to the back of the garage, where there was a large sink. Turning on the faucet, he filled a bucket full of water and took it back over to his brother, dumping it over his head.
Mario came awake with a jerk, spitting and sputtering. The eye that wasn't swollen shut squinted at me, much like my mother did, then dropped down to the gun in my hand. He burst out laughing, but it was cut off with a groan as he leaned forward and coughed. I would guess he had a few broken ribs. For my father's ribs his men had broken? An eye for an eye, perhaps. When he sat up, his tongue licked at his busted lip before he grinned at me. The same smile he'd given me after he'd sliced his initial into my flesh. My fingers tightened around the pistol in my hand.
He glanced over at his brother. "What the hell do you expect her to do with that?" He jerked his chin at me. "That one doesn't have the balls. She's not near the woman her sister was." He turned his one good eye back to me, then spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor.
"Shut your mouth."
At my words, he gave me a bloody grin. "Why? What are you gonna do? Are you gonna cry? Like you did when I shoved my cock down your throat?"
His head snapped back as Luca's fist connected with his jaw in a burst of violence.
"Luca."
At the sound of my voice, he backed off.
Mario stretched his head on his neck from side to side. "You're just pissed because she liked it," he told Luca.
The letter on my chest began to burn as tears of rage filled my eyes. I was right. I knew it even if I couldn't act on it. Mario would never leave me alone unless he was dead.
"God. You look so much like her, though," he went on as he turned his attention back to me. "But she didn't have your fight. My Nicole was a good girl, right up until I had my gun pointed at her head."
Bile rose in my throat, and my hands began to shake. I didn't want to hear this. He was goading me. Trying to see what I would do. I knew it, but I couldn't force my legs to move.
"Even when I told her to walk away and turn around, so I could see her pretty face, so I could remember her just like that. Her mascara running down her face and her lipstick smeared from my cock." He paused, waiting for a reaction. But he didn’t get one. I was frozen. My eyes glued to the bloody mess that used to be his face. "She didn't argue with me. Didn't complain. Didn't beg my forgiveness. She just did whatever the fuck I told her to do." He gazed past me, like he was looking into the past. "She would've been a great wife if she could've just kept her fucking mouth shut."
His eyes snapped back to me so fast I jumped. "But I know where you get your fight from." He spit blood on the floor and smiled. "Your mother. That one has fire. One of these days, I'm going back for her," he told me. His tongue protruded from between his swollen lips, moistening them.
My blood burned in my veins and my vision went red. “You leave my mother the fuck alone!"
"No." He shook his head. "I don't think so. She needs a real man between her legs. Not your pussy of a father. I know my brother has them here. He thinks he can protect them. But I'll find her again. Just like I'll find you.” His eyes dropped to my chest. “Mmm. Maybe I'll finish the artwork I started. Carve my entire fucking name into that soft skin of yours. Maybe then you'll know who you belong to."
"I don't belong to anyone but myself," I gritted out. Raising the gun, I pointed it at his head. My hand began to shake.
"You don't have the guts," he sneered.