Reclaiming Me

by Chelsea Camaron

  That’s how we managed to work out what came next. Alanzo has been my source of strength at every turn.

  Even now, I wasn’t comfortable with it, but Alanzo said the best way for me to honor Giano would be to follow his wishes.

  For Giano, I would get through this.

  For Giano, I would do anything.

  Only for him and because of him.

  The file felt heavy in my hands every time I dared to touch it. For the longest time, I left it on the bed refusing to open it. Alanzo was persistent. His unwavering pressure each time I saw him made it clear I wouldn’t get by simply hiding out. I had to face what Giano wished for me and what my future held without him in it.

  In the first few pages he laid out funeral arrangements. He even set up one of those prepaid, preplanned services through the funeral home. I learned it was also the funeral home to handle his wife and daughter’s services. They were discreet according to Alanzo and wouldn’t question who I really was. They knew Giano well and understood he would have his own reasons for giving me Angelina’s life. Giano had put so much thought into everything that I didn’t have to make any decisions. Even his casket was picked out and purchased.

  While I found the thought of planning my own funeral morbid, I had to be honest that it simplified the things that needed to be done in the wake of this loss. He made it so I wouldn’t have to stumble over our history, our life, and who I really was. There was nothing asked of me other than a day and time for the actual service.

  The less questions I had to answer the better.

  It helped me feel like I would survive this. Somehow I found comfort in simply going forward according to his plans.

  Today, I dressed in a black dress that fell just below my knees. It was a wrap dress that tied around my waist to the right side. The sleeves were three-quarters length and the top came to my neck line with a tear drop cut out on my chest.

  It was elegant and classy.

  In order to shield my eyes from Giano’s allies and enemies, I wore black sunglasses with a traditional black lace veil covering my head and face. The lace flowed freely down my back landing just above the curve of my butt. The front the veil rested along my collar bone.

  Having thought a step ahead, Giano kept the service traditional, but outdoors instead of inside the Catholic church he attended. He knew if this was an inside mass I would be expected to remove my sunglasses. While I had eyes that reminded him of Nylene, his wife, Alanzo said we couldn’t be so certain his enemies would feel the same.

  What surprised me was the enemies that dared to come. The Esposito’s, for example, sat on the fourth row behind us. The family Alanzo told me had an active hit for both Giano and him actually dared to show their faces here. They just couldn’t find anyone stupid enough to take on the job, according to Alanzo, and that was why he was still alive while Giano took his own life instead of being killed by a hitman. I was thankful for that, but now I worried for my Uncle Zozo. Without him, what would I be left with? My thoughts were selfish, but I was drowning in sadness and couldn’t bring myself to think of anyone else.

  The casket remained open as the Priest began the opening prayer. It surprised me the things the funeral home was able to do to recreate his face. Alanzo told me not to dwell on the details and just let them do their jobs. I suppose there really was very little money couldn’t buy. In this instance, it bought a dead man a head with no bullet hole. While the thoughts of it all made me uncomfortable, I had to say I found peace in seeing him complete once again. The memories of how he took his life would forever haunt me, but at least my final goodbye wouldn’t be with those same pictures.

  The Priest then spoke a few words that I tuned out about Giano.

  I didn’t need to listen to some man I had only met a few times when Giano and I attended Mass tell me about his many attributes and accomplishments. Because I knew the one’s the world didn’t. I knew the man who saved me in the darkest of night.

  I watched quietly with Alanzo at my side as people from different families walked passed the casket paying their respects.

  Alanzo shifted beside me. I looked to him. His eyes were heavy with his grief. It dawned on me, he had spent so much time caring for and catering to me, as well as protecting me, he hadn’t had time to process his own loss.

  “Uncle Zozo, I have been selfish. You have lost too,” I whispered.

  He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “The world has lost, Angel, but this is what he wanted. He lived by his code and died by his code. Nothing is more honorable than that.”

  I thought on his words as the Russo family walked up to the casket. The old man, Rafe, who had to be in his nineties, stood over the coffin before leaning in and pressing his lips to Giano’s forehead.

  It was a sign of respect.

  While I wanted to rush up, close the casket and tell them all to go away, I couldn’t.

  The Bianchi family stood patiently behind the Russo’s. The Russo’s gave one last pat of sorts to the casket before making their way to were Alanzo and I were seated on the front row of chairs under the tent. Giulia Bianchi, who was only one of three families led by a female heir, followed Rafe’s lead in pressing a small kiss to Giano’s forehead in a sign of respect.

  “My deepest condolences,” Rafe Russo professed extending a hand to me.

  I shook it and nodded as words were stuck in my throat.

  “Your father was a good man. He worked many years for my family. He will be missed,” Russo continued and my stomach churned.

  These people didn’t know Giancarlo Diamante. Not like I did, not like Alanzo. They were business associates. The area was packed with cars lining the streets, and not one of these people other than Alanzo really knew Giano.

  He kept it that way.

  It was smart.

  I nodded to Rafe Russo and he moved on.

  Giulia Bianchi made her way to me next. “Angelina, your father,” she began and I watched her eyes well up in unshed tears. “He was a man of honor.”

  I nodded.

  “We shared a few drinks a few years after your mother’s death. The way he spoke of you, well, you were his Angel.”

  I got the distinct feeling they shared more than a few drinks and the jealousy inside of me ran fiercely through my veins.

  “He will be missed,” I muttered steeling my voice and my spine.

  “You’re a strong girl, Angelina Diamante. You will do well in life. Should you ever need anything my family is always indebted to yours.”

  I nodded and shook her hand as she leaned down and kissed each of my cheeks according to customs.

  As she stepped back, releasing me, I saw two men out of the corner of my eye in line to view the deceased.

  Paul and Remi Castillo.

  Why were these men here? They were not friends of Giano or me. I understood this was the way this world worked. Even enemies paid respects to the fallen for very few understood the world in which they lived. I certainly didn’t. I wouldn’t be attending my enemy’s funeral and placing a kiss of respect on their dead face.

  “Uncle Zozo, do not let them approach me.” I ordered and he nodded.

  I watched as the Castillo men paid their respects to Giano. It made me sick. They had taken from my family, from Papa Valencia. They walked with arrogance not pride, there was a difference.

  As I sat, anxiously waiting for their approach, my mind ran over every emotion I was feeling. Anger, anguish, loss, pain, fear, love, respect, and regret. Alanzo stood just as they moved from the casket and gave his attention to Remi. Keeping them occupied, he allowed me to be the grieving daughter as the other families paid their respects to Giano and then to me.

  On a nod, I stood and made my way to his coffin.

  Inside the gray shiny casket lined in black silk lay the man who gave me his world. His face looked normal. His eyes were closed as if he were asleep. His hair was done like usual and he wore my favorite charcoal gr
ay suit. Reaching into my clutch, I pulled out the Saint Joseph charm and placed it in his hand.

  With my hand over his, I whispered, “For Joseph was the physical father to Jesus, you were a father to Angelina. You are with your family now. Rest in peace, Giano.”

  Leaning over the box in which he lay, I brought my lips down to his one last time. They were cold, unmoving. He was gone.

  I was lost.

  On a sigh, I took his last moment for my own and let a tear fall down my face. Stepping back, Alanzo wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

  “I take your pain as my own, Angel. I take his pain for us both. Let go for that is his wish,” Alanzo whispered and I blew out a deep breath.

  He guided me to my seat as the funeral director moved to the casket and closed it.

  The service continued on with the priest following traditional funeral mass and then laying Giano in the ground. I fought to keep my composure, but with Alanzo never leaving my side, I drew strength from him.

  I didn’t speak to anyone as Alanzo led me to the limo and we went back to the house. Alanzo gave me space which I needed.

  Going back to my room, I stood in Angelina’s space.

  Alanzo had cleaned and replaced everything making the room go back in time once again. It was still the soft pink color with the lace curtain covering the window and even the old childhood books of Angelina’s remained on the shelves. I went to the window and looked out. The lace curtain between my fingers, I held tight to what I once held dear.

  The rain began to fall and I still stared out into the yard. After some time, I removed the veil, the dress, and put on Giano’s shirt with a pair of my shorts. I moved to my bed and laid down. The soft mattress enveloped me as I settled into the space that had been my home for so long now.

  My eyes closed and I drifted to sleep lost in time, lost in life, lost in love.

  Lost in myself.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The dream took hold of my mind and wouldn’t let me go as I fought to wake up.

  “Don’t hold back.”

  Without another word, he scooped me up and carried me to my room, allowing his pants to slide off where he stood. The bed creaked as he laid me down, his lips crashing onto mine and his hands sliding down my sides. He climbed over me and lay to my side as his hand cupped my sex, teasing me.

  I was so deep in my sleep, in my dream, it felt like I was back in that very moment.

  His fingers parted me, and he circled my clit before sliding them inside my core. I arched up at his invasion. For a moment, I had a flash, and my body tensed, going back in time. The burn was real. The ache still filled me, but my hesitation didn’t waver. For only a moment, I was lost and back to the little girl

  He broke our kiss, dropping his head to my lace-covered breasts where he sucked through the material, bringing me back to the here and now. The sensations overwhelmed me. I was a ball of knots, feeling like I could die from the pleasure while I waited for it to erupt.

  I rocked into his finger, and he added another, stretching me, preparing me. I was no longer tense or afraid; I was wanton and lost in the moment. Instead of my past invading as I had feared, the touch and the sensations consumed me, leaving no room for anything else.

  Leaning over, I slid his shirt over his head, exposing his glorious body to me. The sprinkling of chest hair felt rough against me, his muscles flexing with every movement while his eyes were lost in lust. Then I paused, letting his fingers fill me as I burst around his digits. The aftershocks washed through me as I became overly sensitive.

  I could only moan incoherently as Giano would whisper or groan. I was so lost in the sensations I couldn’t give my attention to his words. I was terrified, if he stopped—if we stopped—I would combust. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing or move the wrong way and chance giving up this ecstasy.

  He pulled out of me and slid over me as he slid my lingerie up then kissed his way down my belly. He gently nipped at my inner thighs before swiping his tongue over my tingling pussy lips. As he lapped and licked and set me on fire, I came alive again, needing more.

  Reaching down, I pulled his face to my own and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips. I slid my hands down to his boxers then pushed them down, freeing him. Gripping his length, I slid my hand up and down his shaft, feeling it throb with each stroke.

  He was huge, and for a second, I paused, wondering how he would fit. Then I imagined the feel of him inside my slick heat, and I was ready to push him in myself.

  I guided him to where I wanted him, but before I could line us up, he moved my hand away and took control. He slid the head through my lips then rubbed my clit, and I arched into him as the tip then slid inside me. I was so wet he glided right in as I stretched to fit him.

  I tensed as I felt the burn, and he paused as he hit my virginal barrier. Then with a surge, he broke through, and I cried out as the pain mixed with pleasure, and I saw lights behind my eyelids.

  I had wanted this man from the moment I realized what men and women were really meant to do together. It was everything I had ever imagined it to be and then some. He turned something once so bad and horrifying into something almost magical. Love filled me, passion burned from inside me, and I couldn’t let go as I craved more and more. This was a high I felt like I could die from if it crashed down around me.

  He thrust into me, grunting as my body instinctively milked him. His arm supported his weight as his free hand tweaked my hard nipple.

  Needing to hold him close, I wrapped my legs around him and kept him locked to me with only enough room to slide in and out of my tight, wet heat. With each move of his shaft, I felt fuller and fuller as my orgasm continued to climb once again.

  “Geee-aaaaaahhhhh-nnnnoooo,” I cried out hoarsely, never wanting it to end.

  He pounded into me a few more times before he stilled, and warm liquid filled me.

  “I love you.”

  Jolting awake I sat up in the bed, “I LOVE YOU!” I screamed the words so loudly my throat hurt from the strain.

  “I loved you, I love you, I love you.” I repeated the words over and over until I was out of breath.

  “Why didn’t you stay?” The tears fell down my face in steady streams. “Why do I lose everyone good? Why can’t I have love, family? Why do I have to be alone?”

  I let the pain, the anger, the loss all consume me. I let myself feel it all, drown in every bad thought. My body trembled, my heart beat painfully in my chest, everything spun out of control. I broke out in a cold sweat.

  The loss weighed me down like an anchor holding a ship in place, I was rooted in the bed stuck in my memory.

  The most important moment of my life has now become my worst nightmare. Who has karma like that? Life was against me. Love was always beyond my grasp.

  When every ounce of energy seemed to drain from my body, I lifted from the bed and went to the bathroom. In the mirror, I didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me. My eyes were swollen, puffy, and bloodshot. My cheeks were sunken in. My hair hung drably down looking stringy and lackluster.

  I turned to the shower.

  For a moment, I thought back to this very shower so long ago.

  Did my stranger need release?

  Slowly, timidly, I uncurled and moved to him. My stomach twisted as anxiety filled me, and trepidation once again washed over me. I had never been in this situation before. I didn’t know what I should do.

  I placed my shaking hand over his wrist, tugging at him to gain his attention. He looked up at me, his exhaustion showing. I traced my finger down his forearm as my body tightened in fear. I didn’t know what else to do for him. He could have killed me, yet he hadn’t.

  I was suddenly tossed backward to the ground as he jumped up from his seat as if my touch had burned him. Confusion ran through me as fear overtook my body and adrenaline kicked in.

  “Don’t!” he barked at me as he towered over me. “Don’t touch me!
That’s not what you’re here for!” he roared as he stomped out of the room, leaving me once again to my solitude.

  Tears ran down my face.

  Feeling confused and dirty, I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower, not paying attention as I discarded my clothing. He didn’t want me and I had done wrong. The fabric left my body in swift movements.

  No, her clothing. It wasn’t my own, they were Angelina’s clothes. I had nothing of my own anymore. Was one hell any better than the next? My destiny was my eternity, wrapped in darkness. Crazy questions continued on in my mind as I let the water spray harshly against the tiled walls.

  Stepping into the shower, I wanted to cry out in pain. The water scalded my skin as the steam filled my lungs, and the small room spun. I didn’t move. I let each drop prick and burn my body while I silently wished for it to burn away the memories of my existence. I didn’t allow myself to think of turning it down or stepping out. Like everything else in my life, I didn’t allow myself to escape.

  I was dizzy. I was lost. I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty and filth. Still, I didn’t move.

  There was a noise on the other side of the shower curtain, but I was stuck in place. The pain became real as I looked to my now reddened arms. Then the rings scraped against the metal pole of the shower curtain rod, and I gasped in surprise when my stranger suddenly was standing in front of me, wrapping me in a towel while yanking me harshly out of the spray of water.

  “You can’t do this!”

  We were riddled and tainted with miscommunications. He thought I was intentionally using the shower to hurt myself after his rejection, but in reality I was just lost.

  Completely lost.

  Like now, without Giano.

  I didn’t know how to cope back then and I don’t know how to now. I only wanted to give him happiness.

  Turning on the shower to as hot as I could get it, I stepped under the spray. In seconds, I was soaked. My clothes quickly saturated and clung to my body. The heat scalded my skin, but I didn’t waver. I let the weight hold me in place.