MATEO

by K. L. Savage

  “I wouldn’t expect less. I’ll go get Natalia. Keep your head on straight. We will make sure he pays.”

  “Grazie, Zio. I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t get too far without me.” Zio hangs up the phone, and a second later he sends me his address.

  I click on it on the screen and the GPS pops up. I have forty-five more minutes to decide what I want to do to Maximo.

  Kill him? Or keep him alive?

  Do I forgive him? No. It’s impossible. After what he did, he can never be redeemed.

  I could prolong the torture. I could.

  Or I could handle it execution-style. A bullet right between the eyes. I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore, and my anger… well, my anger would still fucking be there. But I wouldn’t have to worry about him taking Natalia again.

  I don’t know what to do.

  I want to kill him, but another part of me wants to lock him away and starve him. Let hunger kill him.

  Maybe I’ll give him hope that I’ve turned a new leaf and forgive him. I know he wants to live.

  Hope is a beautiful thing to give to the desperate. And desperate he will be.

  Then I will kill him with his own fucking gun.

  Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

  I’ll keep him alive, for months, maybe years, and have him watch as our lives move forward while his stays stagnant. I’ll make sure Natalia lives a good life, happy, and free of him. She’ll never have to worry about being afraid again. I won’t keep the truth from her, and when the times comes, I’ll give her the opportunity to seek her revenge. She can pull the trigger or choose not to, but she should have the choice.

  It’s the least I can do for my little girl.

  I may not know much, but I know that.

  And Maximo will one day be a distant memory, one I hope to forget.

  One month after escaping the clubhouse…

  I haven’t emerged from my Zio’s home since the escape. I don’t want the Kings to know where I am just yet or what I’ve been up to. Zio has been the face of the casino and taking care of business. I do not need to leave the house to know my face is on wanted posters for the Kings. It was a shit storm, Zio said, when he went to retrieve Natalia. The Kings were not happy. He barely got out of the door without getting shot or beaten.

  He had to reassure them the only instruction he received from me was to pick her up. He had to swear to them he had no idea where I was. And they have been keeping a close eye on him.

  They are waiting for me to slip, but this isn’t their fight.

  “Please,” Maximo begs, clutching the bars of the dungeon Zio keeps underground.

  There’s the house level, the basement, and then below that is the dungeon. It hasn’t been used for some time, but better late than never, I always say.

  I think. I feel like I used to say that. Feels right.

  “Water,” he croaks, reaching through the bars. “Fratello.”

  I slam my fist against the bars and scream, “Do not fucking call me that! You lost that privilege when you tried to sell your niece. My fucking daughter. You filthy piece of shit. You think I care if you’re thirsty? Hungry? Or need to take a piss in something other than that fucking bucket in the corner? Let me tell you something, I’m here to watch you wither away, Maximo. You want fucking water?”

  I snake my hand through the bars and grab him by his filthy shirt. I yank him forward, his cheek pressed against the iron bars. My lips are close to his ear and I whisper, “Drink your own piss.” I slam his head against the bars and knock him out. He falls to the floor limp and unconscious.

  I tug on the lapels of my suit and sigh. I feel the overwhelming need to wash my hands.

  I sidestep a puddle as I walk out of the dungeon. It’s your typical dark and gloomy cell. There’s no window, a dirt floor, and the lamps on the ceiling are powered by lighter fluid. Zio did not pour the family fortune into this dirt jail, that’s for certain. I climb up the stairs and grab the string above on the ceiling that controls the single lightbulb and tug.

  Darkness.

  Good. Let Maximo get lost. I don’t give a fuck.

  I make my way through the basement and up the stairs to the main level of the house.

  “Hey Papa,” Natalia greets me as she sits on a stool at the kitchen island, sipping her cappuccino she made.

  “Ciao, amore mio.” I close the door to the basement and walk over to kiss her cheek. “How are you today?” I ask, deciding to make my own cappuccino.

  “I’m okay.” She shrugs her shoulder and slides her eyes to the door. “How is Zio Maximo today?”

  “I do not want you to have to worry about that. He is not your concern. I want you to be happy, go to school, be with your friends. I want you to forget about Zio Maximo, okay?” I turn her head to mine by placing my hand against her cheek. When her eyes meet mine, I hold my breath as a flash of another woman pops in my mind.

  Same brown eyes.

  Same dark hair.

  Same sadness held in the depths.

  Her mother.

  “We are almost there. You’re going to be just fine, bella,” I say to my wife, who is very much in labor. She’s sweating, cupping her stomach, and her legs are parted as I speed down the highway. Her long dark hair is stuck to her sweaty face and her cheeks are flushed. “You’re doing great. Keep breathing, okay?”

  “She’s coming!” she screams. “I have to push, Mateo. I have to.”

  “We are almost there, sweetheart. Just wait. Two more minutes.”

  “I can’t!” she cries, pulling he knees back with her hands. She grunts as a contraction takes hold, tensing her stomach.

  My heart is pounding against my chest. Trying to keep one eye on the road and the other on my wife. I reach a hand over and wipe her tears with my fingers. “Amore mio, you’re doing so good. You’re so fucking strong. I love you. We are close, okay? One minute. One minute and we will have all the doctors and nurses we could ask for.”

  “I can’t do it.” She shakes her head and sobs. “I can’t. I’m so tired.”

  “You can. You can! You’re going to deliver our little girl and she’s going to be beautiful, just like you. You can do it.” I do my best to be supportive, ignoring how scared I am and how much I am freaking the fuck out. I’m about to be a father.

  A Papa.

  What if she doesn’t like me and only wants her mother?

  “Oh, god!” she throws her head back and screams to the roof of the truck.

  A splash hits the floor, and I take my eyes off the road for a split second to see blood trickling down her legs. “Hey, is that normal? Why is there so much blood?”

  “Blood is normal when the water breaks,” she grits out, her cheeks puffing in and out.

  I turn right into the parking lot as the blood trickling down her thighs becomes a darker shade of red. That’s not normal.

  The emergency room is straight ahead and the entrance is lined with trimmed hedges and pink flowers. So calm and serene compared to the chaos happening inside the truck. The left side of the vehicle runs over the neatly potted plants, flattening them. I slam the truck in park, open the door, and try to jump out of the car when the seatbelt stops me.

  “Cazzo,” I curse under my breath, then press the red button to release the belt. I jump out finally, and trip over my own two feet.

  No one would believe I’m the son of a mafia boss. I’m too damn disorganized for the most part.

  I run around the hood of the car and open the passenger side door. Lucia is pale, blood is flowing down her legs, and my fear peaks to the most extreme level.

  “Amore mio.” I hold back the sob working its way up my throat. I slide my hands under her delicate body, the blood sliding over my arms as I cradle her to my chest. “It’s going to be okay, Lucia. I swear, it’s going to be okay.” Closing the door to the truck is the furthest thing from my mind. I run as fast as I can through the double doors of the hospital. “I need a doctor! Someone, please
, my wife is in labor. Something is wrong!” I raise my voice over through the lobby and my shoe slips on the floor. I look down to see what is causing me to lose my footing.

  More blood.

  It’s dripping down my arm too fast and puddling onto the top of my leather loafer. The light reflects off the red liquid and time slows down. My own breaths deafen me, and the doctors running to me aren’t fast enough. They are bringing a gurney, but I’m frozen in place.

  “How far along is she?”

  “I can’t lose her,” I mumble a reply.

  “Sir, how far along is your wife?” the doctor asks as he takes her from my arms and places her on the gurney.

  I take her hand in mine and her eyes flutter as she stares up at me with chocolate irises. “I love you. Everything is going to be okay.”

  “Make sure she’s okay,” Lucia slurs.

  “Ma’am, how far along are you?” the doctor asks as they roll my wife away.

  I run next to them, not wanting to be away from her for more than a second.

  “Seven months. She’s only seven months.” I rub a hand over my face, forgetting about the blood. “It’s too early, right? It’s way too early. She can’t be in labor now. And the blood, something is wrong—”

  “—Sir, you can’t go any further.”

  “But that’s my wife! I have to go with her. She needs me with her.”

  “We will update you, sir. I’m sorry, but when we know something, you will.”

  “No! This wasn’t part of the plan. Lucia! I’m here, amore mio. I’m right here,” I yell down the hall before the doors close.

  I lace my fingers behind my head and stare out the narrow rectangular windows. Lucia gets further away from me. I tug the roots of my hair and start to pace through the lobby. My eyes are burning. Tears are threatening to fall. I can’t be without her. Lucia is my everything.

  The automatic doors open and a man in a wheelchair comes in with a woman behind him. He coughs, but it isn’t nearly as bad as the blood staining my hands. A few people stare at me as I walk up and down the aisle.

  “Whose truck is this parked in the emergency entrance?” a security guard asks in the middle of the doors.

  “That’s me,” I say in a low voice, slightly shaking.

  He must see the fear on me. Or the blood.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. My wife… she’s pregnant and there was a lot of blood.” I’m lost and the words are monotone as they leave me. “I’ll move it.” Putting one foot in front of the other, I head outside, needing the air anyway.

  “Sir.” His hand stops me in my tracks. “It’s okay. I’ll move it and make sure to leave your keys at the front desk.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I hope your wife is okay.”

  Me too.

  I turn around, not caring about what the guard does with my truck. He can steal it for all I care. I begin pacing again, thinking about the worst-case scenario. What if I lose them both? I slide my hand into my pocket and pull out my phone, knowing I need to do reach out to someone, but my mind isn’t processing.

  “Lucia Moretti!” the doctor calls from the where they took her… three hours ago.

  When did so much time pass?

  “That’s my wife. That’s her. Is she okay? How’s my daughter? Why was there so much blood?” I run to him, spewing question after question like the desperate man I am.

  “Mr. Moretti, your wife lost a lot of blood. Your daughter is in NICU. Her lungs weren’t as developed as they needed to be.”

  “Is she okay? Can I see her?” I ask, darting my eyes between his.

  “Papa? Are you okay?” Natalia grabs my hand from her face. The touch is enough to bring me back to reality.

  I spin around and fall against the counter so it can hold my weight. I don’t want her to see me like this. I drop my elbows to the graphite and hang my head as another memory rushes forward. It slams into me like a fucking train. It’s like I’m living it all over again.

  The doctor and I walk down the hallway. There’s still blood on the floor from when they wheeled her back here to the operating room. The janitor is mopping it up like it’s just another day on the job, but it’s wrecking me. It’s ruining me. That’s my Lucia’s life force, the liquid that keeps her soul, her mind, her body with me every day.

  “Can I see my wife?” I ask again, trying to keep up with him as he walks swiftly.

  He doesn’t answer me.

  I grip his arm and slam him against the wall. “I asked you if I could see my fucking wife! Why aren’t you answering me?” Spittle flies from my mouth and splatters on his round glass. “Where. Is. My. Wife?”

  “Please, come with me, Mr. Moretti,” he says.

  I can’t read his expression. I’m good with expressions. It’s my job to read people, but he has perfected the art of giving nothing away.

  I let go of his white coat and the lapels are wrinkled where I had a firm grip of it, then smooth them out. I nod my head and he takes the lead, walking quickly again.

  This isn’t how today was supposed to go.

  We were supposed to have a picnic by the lake. I wasn’t supposed to be bringing her here. Not yet. We were supposed to have two more months, but the pain started and… the screaming, god the screaming, I couldn’t stop it. I knew I had to get her here.

  “Is she okay? Is she still in surgery? Is Natalia safe? Are you taking me to her? How much does she weigh?” I know I sound frantic, but I don’t know how else to be. My entire life has been turned upside down. I’m supposed to be tough, be the head of the family business, take no bullshit. I need to threaten these doctors and tell them what will happen if they don’t save my family.

  “Okay, see the nurses around that incubator there?” he points as we stop at a window, showing the inside of the NICU. “That’s Natalia. Once we feel she is stable enough, you will be allowed in there to see her.”

  “And her mother? How is Lucia?” I hold my hand to the glass as I watch nurses place wire after wire on her.

  “Mr. Moretti, there were complications during delivery. She lost a lot of blood and we couldn’t control the bleeding.”

  “Well, how is she now?” I ask as I look at him. “She’s okay now? You gave her blood, right?”

  “We did, but her body lost too much at a faster rate. There was nothing we could do, Mr. Moretti. Lucia did not survive the C-section. I’m sorry, but she is gone.”

  Gone.

  I roar the pain into the air, gripping the sides of my head as I remember saying goodbye to her sweet face. She was so still and pale. A ghost.

  And her death haunts me every day. I might have not been able to remember since the explosion, but all my memories are back now, and it hurts all the same.

  All my memories come back rushing over me like a tidal wave. My second wife died of a drug overdose, and that’s when I inherited my asshole stepson Fabian, who died. He blew me up and tried to kidnap Reaper’s ol’ lady. The only family I have left is Natalia and my Zio. Doc wasn’t lying when he told me the memories would hit me at random. That something would trigger them.

  Natalia’s eyes. The way she looked at me was the same look her mother used to give me when she was sad.

  “Papa! Dio mio!” Natalia drops to her knees and clasps my hands in hers. “Papa, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Do I need to call an ambulance?”

  That’s when I realize I’ve fallen to the floor. I shake my head and pull her to me, holding her in my arms like I wish I could have the day she was born. I bury my face into her shoulder and cup the back of her head. Closing my eyes, I bring up the memory of being able to hold her for the first time. I think I cried that day, because she was the only thing I had left of her mother. She was so small. She fit in the palm of my hand. There were so many wires. She had a tube in her nose, but I swear, the love I felt for her helped me heal the grief ripping my heart in two.

  Natalia’s mother was my soulmate. My second wife was a mistake to fill the vo
id of missing Lucia. It’s cruel to say, but I didn’t care when she died.

  “I remember everything,” I whisper, holding her tight. “I am so sorry I didn’t remember you. I am so sorry.”

  “Papa, you can remember? That’s fantastic! Oh my god, this is amazing.” She pulls away from me and her eyes are full of tears. “You remember. I’ve waited so long. You’ve been so lost and now—”

  “But I forgot you. I forgot everything.”

  “I knew you’d remember. We are family, memory or not.”

  “Ti amo tanto, Natalia.”

  “Ti amo, Papa. I’m so happy.” She wraps her arms around me tighter.

  My chest has been ripped open. Every memory has hit me like a Mack truck. I’m exhausted, but at the same time, I’m invigorated.

  I know who I am.

  Where I’m from.

  And how the fuck I rule.

  Present Day

  “You need to come to the casino,” Zio says on the other end of the phone.

  “I will after I deal with the Kings. Once I settle with them, I will be there, and you won’t have to worry about being the face of the casino anymore. I appreciate you picking up my slack while I get my affairs in order,” I reply.

  My worthless brother blew through a ton of my money. Not my family fortune, but my bank accounts from the casino. He nearly had me selling or going under, risking bankruptcy. He really wanted to ruin me for some fucking reason, I just can’t think of why.

  Luckily, Zio has taken my business plan and applied it. Now, we are turning a profit and I’m making money again. Feels good. And since I’m making money, it’s time to pay my dues to the Kings. I’m going to pay them for every second they had me in their care.

  I imagine this meeting isn’t going to go over well, but a man has to reap what he sews, correct? Well, I’m about to meet with the man who soaks up souls for the hell of it. I hope he can forgive me, because the Kings were the family I didn’t have when I needed one.

  “It’s fine. I do not mind doing this with you, Mateo, but you need help. I fired all of Maximo’s men—”

  “Some of those men were loyal to me!” I slam my fist on the counter and accidentally hit the saucer my teacup was on, cracking it down the middle. “Dio mio,” I mutter.