by Felicia Lynn
My mother notices as well, and I see a moment of panic flash across her face. For all our sake, but mostly hers, I hope this is over quickly. I’m really not sure how much more she can take. She looks at me. Then her eyes move to the empty seat at my other side, staring alarmingly. She jumps up and turns around, searching the crowd. Alan and I both quickly follow her lead, jumping to our feet too. Alan seems to know what she’s thinking and begins searching, but I’m clueless and concerned that if something’s going on that I’m not aware of, how will I know how to protect her. Fucking hell, that’s where I am right now.
“Mother, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” I quietly ask, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her close to me.
“Elianna isn’t here, Lucas. We can’t say goodbye to your brother without her. Eli meant the world to Matt,” she whimpers.
I notice Alan walking just to edge of the crowd and peering around before coming back to my mother’s side.
“Darling, she’s here. Eli may need some space right now, though. She looks like she’s keeping her distance intentionally. We don’t have to imagine too hard how this part is for her since we’re living it too. But let’s honor her wishes right now. She knows her seat will be here if she wants it,” Alan gently coaches my mom, but it’s apparent she’s not on board with his plan. She nods at him before dropping her chin and staring blankly at the ground in contemplation, making no attempt to move back to her seat.
“Mother, let’s get you back in the chair. The service will be starting soon, and you know Alan and I will be right here with you.” She looks up at me, and I realize the panic in her eyes isn’t for Matteo and the final farewell. My mother is most definitely not ready to let this go. Her undivided concern this very second is on Elianna, my brother’s other half.
Elianna Nicchi is royalty as far as the families are concerned. Where most of the young, single women in the family are called mafia maidens, Eli is a princess. She’s untouchable. Before his passing, Eli’s father, Leo Nicchi, was the boss of this family for many successful and lucrative years. Of all the families, the Nicchi name is powerful and respected, and their family leadership dates to four generations of grandfathers prior to Leo. When Elianna’s father and mother were murdered in cold blood when she was seven years old, that left her the last of the original family carrying the name.
“Eli shouldn’t be alone during this part, Lucas. Alan is here with me. You need to go to Eli. I’ll be okay, but I need to know she’s okay too. Take care of her, please. Matteo would want this of us, you know. Our girl isn’t handling this news well. You know how close she and Matteo were,” she whispers amongst the three of us.
“Mom, I’m sure Elianna will be okay. I really don’t want to leave you right now. If she wants to be alone, let’s give her the space she needs,” I plead.
“Lucas, no one understands the pain she’s feeling like I do. Being alone is the last thing she needs, regardless of what she wants. Go to her, son, please. If she doesn’t want to be here with us, that’s okay. I’ll understand, but you stay there with her in case she needs someone. Please do this for your brother and for me, Lucas.”
I nod. How can a son with any heart at all say no to that request under these circumstances? I kiss her cheek and turn to head the direction Alan came from after confirming he’d set eyes on the princess. A part of me can’t believe my own mother would ask this of me and willingly send her only living son away at my brother’s service, but I know if it were anyone else, she’d have never asked. She’s right; my brother would want this of me. Elianna wasn’t just any girl to Matteo. When I say she was his other half, I mean it, but not in the romantic way others may suggest. She was more than just a best friend, girlfriend or hell . . . even sibling could be. She was his world.
When I get to the edge of the awning, I look back over my shoulder to make sure my mother is okay before she’s out of my sight, and I find her watching me. She offers a small smile, nodding encouragingly. Damn. This request does mean a lot to her. That’s the first hint of a smile I’ve seen from her in days and all the reassurance I need.
By the time I spot Elianna, the family is seated again, and I can hear the soft music playing as the ceremony begins. I walk up and don’t say a word when I stand next to Eli. My mother was right. She’s definitely not taking this well. Under different circumstances, I’d want to be inside her head. If anyone has information on trouble for Matteo, it would be Elianna. But not only is this not the right place or time, but I'm also not willing to put her at risk for divulging information she probably shouldn’t have known to begin with. I’ll have to use other expendable resources for my information in this cause because this one is as good as gold in my eyes.
Elianna doesn’t acknowledge my existence, and I’m not sure if it’s because she gives no fucks that I exist or because she so consumed with her grief she can’t bother to care about anything else. She’s officially broken, not even bothering to wipe the falling tears from her cheeks with the balled-up handkerchief she’s gripping in her fist for dear life.
As we stand watching from a distance and listening to the service at a volume barely even above a whisper, I realize she really does need someone even if she doesn’t want anyone other than my brother. I step closer to her and wrap my arm around her shoulder. I’m not my brother, but I’m the closest thing she’ll get right now in body.
Eli looks up at me, finally acknowledging my presence, but the acknowledgement doesn’t come with warm fuzzy feelings. She narrows her red-rimmed, swollen, tear-filled eyes my direction, but they’re empty of everything except the worst. Elianna is easily one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes on. Even in her current state, she’s still the category winner, but for the first time ever, I see something deeper through her vulnerability. Her shield is completely down, and I can’t pull my eyes away from hers.
Delicacy and strength appears in her face even now, but it’s impossible to miss the questions met with her gaze. Biting her lip with such force that it will leave a mark, she pleads silently with me for help. She’s done. Well past any limit of pain she may have been capable of enduring, the hot tears begin falling from her eyes more forcefully. Attempting to swallow the sound of her cries, she never looks away from our intense gaze, but her small hand raises to cover her mouth as a protective measure to hide the evident desperation I’m already a witness to.
Fuck me. Even if I wanted to lie to myself and pretend I was capable of keeping her at arm’s length right now, I don’t fight my own need to comfort her. Pulling her close to my chest, she accepts and falls in easily, allowing her forehead to fall to my chest as she completely falls apart in my arms in the absolute worst and best ways possible.
“Elianna, principessa, I have you. I’m so sorry,” I whisper, tilting my head so that my lips are level with her ear as she trembles in my arms, her body wracked with emotion.
“Nothing will ever be okay again. Can’t you see?” she mumbles, choking on her tears. She turns her face the direction of the ceremony with her cheek still resting on my chest, almost directly even with my heart. She’s watching the service, but I can’t take my eyes off her. At that moment, everything becomes clear.
My need to comfort her is instinctive, but craving her closeness and vulnerability is stirring something inside me. The craving builds quickly and transforms to an addiction before I’m able to get a handle on my reaction. But nothing I’ve ever wanted or needed in my life compares to my haunted desire to protect Elianna from any harm or pain from this second forward.
If a man were to be granted a sign identifying their one chosen purpose to give their life meaning, this would be mine.
I’m not sure how, but the demand is unfaltering.
At any cost, I will protect Elianna Nicchi, but that’s all I can ever be to her. Protector.
Elianna is off-limits for most, but to me especially. Fighting this suffocating desire could be my most powerful enemy yet. Undeniably, resistance training of a ve
ry specific sort will be a necessary requirement to keep us both alive.
I. Am. Fucked.
3
- Renewal -
Elianna
(3 months later)
Today is the day. Most people would finish that statement with ‘I’ve been waiting for,’ but in the effort to avoid lying to myself, I leave that part off. Today is just ‘the day.’ The day I’m going to attempt a fresh start. New York isn’t the biggest city in the country, yet it’s always been enough for me until three months ago. I grew up in this city, and it’s all I’ve ever really known, but I’m suffocating here trying to maintain any semblance of my normal life without Matteo. It’s too much with the constant reminders of how tightly my life was intertwined with his.
I’m not convinced moving will be my saving grace, but seriously, something has to give. It wasn’t easy to convince my uncle, which probably sounds odd being a recent college graduate and self-supporting adult, but it’s not that simple. My life has never been my own. Sure, legally I’m within my rights to make my own choices at twenty-one years old, but my name complicates things. Which is why I haven’t packed a bag for an adventure to travel the world. I’m not free to go just anyplace I want. My uncle says it’s because he wants to keep me safe, and I do understand that. The Nicchi family isn’t exactly unknown, and being the last living namesake could make me a target for any enemies of the family. My parents’ murders are still unsolved fourteen years later. Not knowing who was responsible has always had me looking over my shoulder even though I almost always have eyes on me. I decided a long time ago not to live in fear, and for the most part, I haven’t. But I had Matteo then.
Matteo helped me build strength and backbone layer by layer. He taught me it was okay to have a voice and that my thoughts and opinions had value, which was definitely out of the norm for young girls in the family. If you weren’t born with a penis, you were screwed from the start, because the men in our lives were destined to control where life took us. Not Matteo, though—he actually cared about the things I had to say. My hopes and dreams became his too, just as his became mine.
The family has never believed that Matteo and I weren’t romantically involved, but we weren’t, and I can honestly admit neither of us had any interest in taking our relationship there. I’ve always known Matteo and I would be best friends for all our days on earth; I just never in a million years imagined it would end so soon. I think that’s why this move is so important. I don’t want to know what it’s like to exist in this life without him.
So, now I have a new life to build in Boston, Massachusetts even though it’s not a million miles away from this life as I was hoping. I’d briefly considered moving to California, where my only other close friend, Sienna, was moving. I knew that plan was never going to happen, so I’m not really sure why I entertained the idea anyway, but I guess it did help my negotiations in the end. Matteo used to tell me all the time if I wasn’t going to take control of my own life, the family would. He couldn’t have been more right.
After a very heated debate with my uncle and lots of tears from Aunt Luciana, we came to an agreement. My radius to explore could be four hours by car and not a second more. I could live anywhere I wanted as long as they could get to me in two hundred and forty minutes if I needed anything, and I must be in an area where the family had ‘contacts.’ That left one only one city where I could actually picture myself living, and since I inherited a significant amount of money the day I turned twenty, I could afford to take care of myself.
Aunt Luciana is my father’s sister and my only living blood relative. She’s raised me as her own since I was seven. She had also been my mother’s best friend, so we were very close long before I became her responsibility. I love her, but my Uncle Sergio grates on every nerve in my body. He’s just a little too cocky for my taste and nothing like my father, but he’s the boss now, so what he says goes in most cases.
Aunt Luciana is not comfortable with me living in a strange city and being defenseless, so she demanded I get a guard dog, and of course, my uncle backed her up. Little do they know I’m anything but defenseless, but since I’ve wanted a puppy for a while, I found the cutest one ever. He’ll grow up to look fierce, but it’ll all be a façade because he’s too cute to be mean. That’s why I named him Gatsby. I’m sure he wasn’t what my aunt and uncle had in mind when they were protesting my safety concerns and I agreed to get a dog, but he’s perfect for me. So my word is still as good as gold.
I flew to Boston a few weeks ago to find a place to live and was able to find an awesome brownstone on the south end. It even has a small fenced yard for Gatsby to stretch his legs and do his business. My new furniture and all the boxes will be there once we arrive. It may take us a little bit of time to get settled and find a new normal, but I’m ready for this next step.
Boston has a lot of advantages. One being, for the first time in my life, I won’t be surrounded by Yankee fans. How I’ve survived in New York as long as I have while not being a home team fan is a miracle, but I know that’s my father’s doing. When our family was hosting a barbecue for the families, my dad and some of the other guys were watching the Yankees game in the man cave in our basement. Being young, and craving more time and attention from my father, I snuck into the basement to hang out him and the other guys. It didn’t go over as I was hoping, and I was quickly shooed away and told to go play with the other kids, but before I left I turned on my heel in a huff and told the entire room of Yankee lovers that I really hoped the stupid Yankees lost every game they ever played against the Red Sox for the rest of forever.
I had no interest in being a Yankee fan if my daddy wouldn’t let me watch the games with him, so I resented the team and their fans. Even being frustrated and feeling left out, I’ll never forget how eerily silent the room was after my little outburst, but when my dad finally snapped out of his shocked stupor, he literally belly laughed. Then he invited me back in, offering me his lap to watch the rest of the game with him. It was all I really wanted, but I was stubborn and cheered for Boston anyway, just out of spite.
The Red Sox did end up winning every game in that series, and my dad seemed impressed that I’d held my ground. So since that day at six years old, I’ve been a Red Sox fan. For Christmas that year, I even had a special gift under the tree just from my father. It was a Red Sox jersey and bows for my hair, which I’ve kept to this day.
My dad supported me being my own person, and I’d like to think he’d be proud that I had a friend like Matteo. Even if it’s hard to think about now that I’ve lost them both, I’m thankful they gave me a valuable life lesson. Even with different tactics for portraying their message, it was clear, either by showing through actions, like my father, or breaking the truth down verbally, like Matteo. Take control of your future or the family will, Matteo used to tell me all the time. Isn’t that the truth? At the end of the day, I knew it was okay to speak up for myself and not let others dictate my future.
From every memory of my dad, before he and my mother were killed when I was seven years old, my father was a good man. He was loving, gentle, and kind, but my interactions with him were limited and outside his normal environment with the Nicchi family business. While I knew I was cherished without question and my life felt very normal to me, I didn’t know any differently. Maturing gives you perspective, and now I often wonder if the impression my father left on me was flawed. I’m not naïve enough to believe anyone could earn the power, loyalty, and respect that my father garnered in this world by serving a platter of good deeds to prove his worthiness.
Is there a part of me that sometimes feels guilty for carrying these fond memories of our happy times with me all these years when I know dark secrets exist that continue to haunt this family? Every single day, I resent that life has to come with good and bad sides, and the only way I know how to deal with the heavy hand of the bad side is to force myself to forget it. I figure if nothing else, I owe myself one single minute of peace each
day. Really, what could sixty seconds of peace hurt? Unfortunately, without that minute, I’m really not sure how I’d be able to function and continue putting one foot in front of the other.
I can’t tell you how often I’ve wanted to throw in the white towel, but giving up is the easy route. The people who I’ve loved the most in life have all been taken from me, and the worst part of that is not knowing who took them and why. I need answers more than I need to live life on easy street. I’m willing to fight the tough battles if it means I can finally let those I’ve loved and lost rest in peace.
Deciding to let go and move on has not been easy, but I do think it’s necessary at this point. So Boston, Massachusetts, here I come. I’m really not too sure what Boston has to offer, but at least I won’t feel like my every move is scrutinized under a microscope. I’d be lying if I said I’ve done a great job of keeping my suspicions guarded.
The only things I want now are answers and a clean slate, but to achieve one of the goals, I’ll never have the other. So I guess it’s time for some soul searching to figure out which is most important.
4
- Questions -
Lucas
I walk into Indigo six years after I started making plans for this, and it still fills me with pride. The night I opened the doors for the first time and saw the line extending three blocks, I was shocked. The enthusiasm of this day has still not died down, which is more than I can say for the majority of the nightclubs in the theatre district. Maybe it’s the pessimistic side of me, but I keep waiting for the excitement to get stale and the patrons to move on, but so far, there’s no sign of the typical burnout. Thankfully, that’s great news for me as well as the family, since moving the operations of The Basement could be problematic on many levels.