“No, it hasn’t, and I won’t stand for you being so flippant about your duty to our family.”
“My duty—”
“We aren’t starting this shit again, Romeo. I’m done. You’re on night patrol for the rest of the week. Don’t fight with me on it, or I swear to God--”
“I need to have the weekend to—”
“I didn’t say weekend, did I? I said,week. Listen.”
I bite down on my tongue, hard enough that I taste copper. It should be a solace— that metallic sting in my mouth— but instead, it just reminds me that I’m alive. And honestly, I don’t want to fucking live if it's only for Vince. Because that’s what it feels like, like I’m only living for Vince's whims. I’m so angry I want to punch him, and I do consider it for a second as he flares his nostrils at me. Instead, I push myself away from the desk, chair legs squeaking over the dark wood floors, and then I storm out of the room with such a fury that I feel the air around me thinning.
He is mad, completely bonkers. How the fuck was I supposed to know he didn’t mean to kill them all? Does he think I wanted to kill them? It just proves how little he actually knows me if he thought that. The faces of those men are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. Of course, I didn’t want to kill them.
This is the type of order Pops would give. The kind of thing he would expect when shooting such vague texts on such serious missions. It’s not my fault Vince wasn’t clear enough.
I make it to my room, though I barely remember walking to it, and flop down on the bed so hard I hope it breaks. I hope I inconvenience Vince by having to stay in the guest room or something. It’s a fury thought, so I realize after a couple of seconds how dumb it was and bury my face in the covers.
Stupid patrol. Every night this week, from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m., we’ll be doing the pointless task of monitoring our alliances and enemies. No one usually gives two fucks about these missions unless they are forced onto them. That’s because no one wants to choose vampirism as a lifestyle, all to see no action and watch someone eat food at a bar or take some chick home to fuck until the daylight. Rarely is there anything interesting happening on patrol.Fuck me.
I think the real issue is that despite Vince being an asshole 90% of the time, and me being entirely too split in opposite directions, I love my family. I want to do what is best for them and best for the strength of the San Giovannis, but it’s difficult. Wanting what I do doesn’t come without great cost. It just feels so fucking exhausting trying to meet their desires for what my life should be like. Why can’t I do both of the things I feel destined for without compromising the family’s faith in my commitment to them?
If I think about this too much longer, I’ll do something I regret. I sit up quickly, probably too quickly, and take a few deep breaths. I need to give everything I have in me to the mafia this week. Nothing else will matter except for doing my job with zero fuck-ups.
This weekend, I will be the model version of myself, the example of a flawless performance, on time for everything, following all rules and requirements.
Alright, so this is the game plan— do everything perfectly from here on out.
9
KIRA
Last night was a whirlwind with Romeo, and I hope I don’t regret it. I’m already beginning to feel that churning in the pit of my stomach that hasn’t let up since breakfast. It’s not that I’m worried about whether I did my job correctly; it’s everything leading up to it and during.
The loss of my security team is unnerving. Not just because I failed to play my part of the mission– to be observant always and attack when essential. No, I think I feel this way because of Patrov. Losing him is the strangest feeling. Like I’ve misplaced my shoes, and now I'm walking around on the gravel barefoot, wondering why I neglected to put them on in the first place. We grew up together, and I guess that shouldn't make him special, but I think it does a little.
Maybe it's better that he's gone. No emotional attachments left to lean on when I'm feeling lost. Now I can solely focus on my mission. And maybe the anger boiling just below the surface can be my fuel for vengeance when this is all said and done.Yeah, that’s more like it.Push down anything that will distract me and use it as fuel to keep my focus.
There’s a knock at the door before I can crumple into a mess on the floor of my new room. I turn my head to it as the door opens, and one of the brothers steps inside. Since being given my new security team last night, I haven’t had much of a chance to meet all of them. They’re doing perimeter runs every thirty minutes, but by the end of the day, I’m sure I’ll meet them all.
Blake is this brother's name, the taller one, usually calmer, pink undertone to his glowing skin and thick golden-brown curls, tightly hugging the top of his head, shaved entirely on the sides.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” I force a smile. He looks me up and down and sighs.
“What?”
“I could have done this mission better,” he bites his cheek thoughtfully, and I cock my head in annoyance.
“What?”
“Oh, it’s no offense to you. I just wouldn’t have let my team die.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I stand to my feet, headed straight for the door to shut him out. “Blake, you wouldn’t have even been able to do this mission. Last time I checked, Romeo likes women,” I snap because he deserves it and because he’s being awful.
“You lost Patrov.” He grits his teeth, standing his ground, veins in his muscular neck bulging. I could swear he has fucking tears in his eyes. His distress reminds me of how often I shut everyone else out. I don’t know what they meant to each other or how Patrov viewed Blake— he was always private about his love life— but it’s clear I missed this crucial detail. Another slap in the face of my catastrophic failure. I'm about to say something, but the words won’t come out. Nothing could excuse the loss I feel and the great loss I’ve caused someone else because of my shortcomings.
“Blake!” His brother bursts into the room, accidentally knocking me out of the way, but I catch myself on the bedpost. “Stop harassing Kira.”