Sabato: The Cross

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Sabato: The Cross Page 21

by Mj Fields


  “Hide what, exactly?” He looks at me with concern. Probably thinks I am crazy all over again and that’s okay—because maybe I am, a little.

  “The V card,” I hold my hands beside me, palms up like scales. “Blessing or curse? I’ve thought maybe both, at times. But now, I can honestly say that if I was waiting for my prince, I am sure I found him.”

  “I’m no prince, Melyssa.”

  “You are so much more than you’ll allow yourself to believe. I see you, Sabato. I see past the tragic circumstances you have faced all your life. I. See. You. And you are my prince. I will tell you the truth and I will pray you don’t run, but I know what I feel. I won’t try to push it away anymore. It makes me crazy when I try. All I know is that I am falling for a man who says I can’t and it feels really good, so I’m not going to stop. I just hope,” I pause. “No, I pray that in a year, I can still be carried into this room and punished the way I—”

  “Melyssa, don’t do that. Don’t ask me to—”

  “But I’m asking. How do you feel about me?” I shrug. “I can take it. It won’t change what I promised you I would do. I guess...I don’t even really need the answer, just maybe for you to think about it.” I stand looking at him, naked in every possible way and he stands staring, just searching for something to say. So, I change the subject.

  “Front or back?”

  “Back to me,” he demands. “Now.”

  The threat in his voice awakens every lust-filled cell in my body.

  I feel the palm of his hand on my back, pushing me against the smooth wood surface. I raise my hands and he wraps each wrist in leather cuffs attached to chains. My ankles are next and then he is beside me. He pushes the top of the cross and it rotates, then clicks and stops when I am lying face down.

  I look to him, but his eyes carry no expression.

  “Are you in the zone?” His jaw tightens and his left nostril twitches a bit. “Okay then.”

  I hear him behind me and don’t bother to look back, I just wait.

  My eyes are covered with a blindfold, and he hisses, “Not a word.”

  I nod once and I feel the sting of a flogger against my skin. As quick as it’s there, it is gone. I feel it again. It’s faster than before, less of a reprieve, but it feels good. He strikes between my legs now and my back arches, pushing my ass up as he hits me again and again and again.

  “This is what I bring, Melyssa.” He hits my ass a little harder this time. It still feels good. He does it again in the same spot and it stings this time. He stops when I start to feel tender.

  “Like a wound that begs to be bled, to alleviate the pressure of the blood rising in it. When it breaks, you feel good, because you don’t know the difference between good and bad. You only know me and I am bad.”

  “No you’re not. No—ouch!”

  “No words, Melyssa, just feel. Feel what I have to offer.”

  Again, I feel the sting, again and again. It’s a rhythm of pain, but I still can’t feel the bad in it. It feels good, somewhat painful, but good. Again he hits me and again. I am now anticipating the strikes, anticipating his touch. He stops. I hear movement behind me. I feel my left nipple being pinched tightly, then the right. I want him to suck them. I love when he sucks them. When I hear him behind me again, I realize it isn’t him pinching my nipples, but clamps.

  Whack! Whack! Whack!

  “Does this feel nice, Melyssa? This pain? No, it doesn’t. It’s the sensitivity aroused in you, the anticipation of the orgasm.”

  Whack! Whack! Whack!

  I am now sore and I don’t know how much I can take without him touching me. The clamps are removed and I feel so much better that I arch my back in anticipation. I am waiting for him to taste me, suck me, and pleasure me. I feel a snap of leather under my armpit, then the flogger slaps between my legs.

  “Oh, god.”

  Again he alternates strikes: armpit, pussy, armpit, pussy. With rapid fire quickness and repetition, he beats my pussy like a drum and I am almost there, I just need a couple more hits to put me over.

  He stops and I wait. I hear a door close and I realize I am alone.

  Tears threaten to fall, not because I am in pain, but because I am in need. I need the release. I need him to give it to me.

  I need him.

  I’m going to hurt her.

  I have hurt her.

  I am not in control when I am with her and I am not at able to tolerate that. I go to the kitchen and get a glass of water. If she had just not said anything, I would have been all right. She would have been all right.

  “FUCK!” I throw the glass against the wall and it smashes into a thousand pieces. I walk into the bedroom, take some clothes out of the closet and get dressed. I kick the door open and her body tenses.

  “This is what you ask for, Melyssa! Disappointment!”

  “No, I ask for you. Every piece of you!”

  “Well, that may never come. I hope you enjoy that fucking position and anticipation as much as I anticipate watching you falling apart because of me. That’s not what I wanted. I didn’t want to give a shit about you. You fucking tricked me!”

  “I am falling in love with you. It’s not a choice!”

  “Then you hang there, until you fall right the fuck out!”

  I slam the door behind me and hear her begin to cry.

  I tell myself it doesn’t matter. That I don’t care. I lie, over and over.

  I leave the apartment and get into the elevator. I hit the lobby button and begin descending.

  The door opens and I step out. My hands are shaking and I have no idea where I am going. But I know I need to stay away from her. I need to stay away from her, or I will ruin her. It’s best she knows this now.

  What she doesn’t know is that it isn’t because I am unfeeling. Because I don’t care. I do care and that is the problem. Hell she does know. She’s the one that pointed it out. I don’t want her to know. I will prove her wrong.

  “Chiedo scusa,” I look up when I hear the woman’s voice.

  I stumble back, so distracted that I don’t notice how strange it is, that the stranger automatically addressed me in my native language. “Sti bene?”

  “Sì, certo, mi scuso.” I walk around her and head for the door. Then I stop. Freeze.

  “Do you know her?” the doorman asks.

  “No,” I answer.

  “She’s here to see you.”

  I look back as she gets in the elevator and the doors close.

  “And you let her pass?”

  “I’m sorry sir, she said she was here with a wedding gift, that she missed the wedding, that—”

  I turn and run for the elevator. I hit the button several times, but it’s already on the fourth floor. I yell back at the doorman, “Can you stop it!”

  “No sir, but I can slow it down.”

  “Do it now! Or so help me God, you’ll pay.”

  I run for the stairway and start to ascend. After a few seconds, I hear footsteps chasing me. I don’t stop, but I turn. Thorello Archangello is behind me.

  “Was that Maria??”

  “Yes, go!” he yells.

  I don’t wait for him to catch up. “How did she get into this country?”

  “Maria’s resources go beyond the Italian police. Go!”

  “My wife is in the apartment.”

  I run faster.

  “I know that too.”

  I push through the stairwell exit, then run to the apartment door and punch in the code. I throw the door open, yelling over my shoulder for Thor to follow and help me search. “Check-in that direction.”

  I run straight into the second bedroom and pull the straps from Melyssa’s arms and ankles as fast as I can.

  “You came back,” she sobs, throwing her arms around me.

  “I always will.” I hold her, grateful that she is all right.

  “I’m sorry, I love you,” she starts, as I pull my shirt over my head and use it to cover her.

  “
Don’t be. Please, don’t be. Listen to me, Melyssa. There is a woman here in this building. I think she’s coming after you.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you, I carry a curse. That’s why I can’t say I love you, ever. I won’t put you in that kind of danger.”

  “You’re scared.”

  “No, but you are not going to get hurt on my watch.”

  “Sabato?”

  “What?”

  “Tell me you care.”

  “How could I not?”

  “She isn’t here.” Thor says from the doorway. As if to punctuate his statement, there is the sound of a gunshot. He falls forward to the ground.

  I shove Melyssa behind me, as Maria walks through the door. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize her before.

  “Sabato, how are you, son?”

  “Put the gun down, Maria,” I say, as she pulls back on the hammer and chambers a round.

  “You don’t get to be happy, Sabato. Your whore of a mother, your slut of a girlfriend, they were just collateral damage. You were the cause. It was always you. You caused a strong man to fear you, because you were invincible, because you refused to die. No matter how many times we tried to end your miserable life, here you are, married. And the man I loved, who would have loved me, if you had just died when you were supposed to, he is the one who is gone. You killed him, you son-of-a-whore. Now your new whore will die, just like your brother, who lies dying on the floor.”

  Maria reaches forward with her toe and nudges Thor’s body, but I am too shocked and appalled to make the connections of what she is saying.

  “Everyone dies, Sabato, because you refuse to.”

  Then it clicks, even though it doesn’t matter, or it won’t soon enough. “He is not my brother, you bitch!”

  I start to stand.

  “Sabato, don’t!”

  “Listen to the girl, Sabato. Don’t push me,” she pulls the trigger and I feel a hot slap as the bullet hits me in the shoulder. The force knocks me back and I fall against Melyssa, taking her to the ground. “As you bleed out slowly, I will fill her full of holes, so you can watch her die.”

  I try to put myself in front of Melyssa again. Another bullet hits my shoulder and I fall back.

  “Oh God, Sabato,” Melyssa cries, as she pulls me into her arms with no regard for her own safety. “I love you,” she whispers, as her tears fall on my face. “I love you.”

  I hear the gun click back again, as the darkness moves in around me. All my life, I’ve been waiting for death to welcome me into its embrace. But now, I don’t want it. I can’t let it. It’s too soon.

  “Say goodbye to love, Sabato Archangello.” Maria aims at Melyssa and rage and adrenalin course through me. I jump up, in front of Maria. Another bullet hits my side, as I turn the gun and force back the barrel, struggling as I fight to lift it to her chest.

  “Die, bitch!”

  I pull the trigger and watch her eyes widen. I don’t wait, because I learned my lesson last time. I fire again, and again. She falls back on the floor and I shoot her one last time, before I fall to my knees.

  Melyssa kicks the gun away and grabs me.

  “Don’t you leave me, don’t you leave me here alone.”

  I feel hope, even as the bits of knowledge scatter with the blood leaving my body. Salvatore is not my father. I have a brother. I finally saved a life, someone I loved.

  Finally, I was someone’s eroe.

  The world blurs and I feel afraid.

  “Dea....” My goddess. My lips move silently, uselessly.

  I feel despair next, because I will never be able to tell her I love her. Then I feel nothing.

  *.*.*

  I am floating, weightless, when I see them.

  “Mama!”

  Emotions swell in my heart and in my eyes. Mama is with a man. She is happy, he is smiling. He loves her, I can tell. As I move closer, I see him. I’ve seen him before. He was the police man with the sad face who seemed to fear my father after Mama was killed.

  She loves him, she always loved him, I can feel that, too. He is Thor’s father and my real father. He looks like me, but happy like Mama.

  “Eroe, come to me.”

  I do. I run to her arms, happily. “You are grown.”

  “No Mama, I am still your boy. But now, now I am....”

  “A man. My Eroe. I am proud of you. We,” she looks to her side. “Your father and I are proud of you.”

  My chest swells with pride, even as my heart squeezes. I don’t know what I did to make her proud of me. But whatever it is, I want to do it again.

  “Be happy, son. Be happy.”

  Blackness comes toward me again.

  When light returns to my eyes, I see her. Luciana is in a white dress and her long, black hair is longer than I remember. She is holding the hand of a child and they walk towards me.

  “Sabato.”

  “Luciana.” I don’t mean to cry, but tears come anyway and I hug her tight. “I am so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

  “Don’t say that, my love. Had I not found you, I would never have known love.” She kneels down in front of me. “This is Eroe, my son—our son. He is the reason my eternity without you is still filled with love.”

  She turns to the boy. “Di ciao a tuo padre.”

  “Ciao, padre.”

  “Ciao, beautiful one.”

  I hold them both and weep for the life I never knew, the life I could have had. Such great happiness, snatched away in a moment. I spent so many years punishing myself for her loss, not knowing the extent of it. And yet, I feel lighter, more at peace, knowing she is not alone.

  After a long embrace, she pulls back. “We will never stop loving you.”

  They turn and walk away and I want to follow them. I want to stay with them. But I can’t move. “Where are you going?”

  They turn, blow kisses and smile.

  Sono felici.

  There is nothing worse in the world than sitting in the front of an ambulance, watching through the window as the paramedics try and seem to fail, at saving the person you love most.

  Sabato has flat lined three times in the matter of ten minutes.

  When the paramedics arrived at the apartment, Maria was pronounced dead. I was running back and forth between Sabato and Thor, trying to perform CPR on both of them, trying to keep their hearts beating long enough for help to arrive. I’m pretty sure I was in shock by that point, because it didn’t even occur to me to check and see if Maria was still breathing. Or maybe I just didn’t care. Maybe I wanted her to die, for killing the man I love.

  Not killing, I correct myself, for the thousandth time. Trying to kill. Because he’s not dead. He can’t be dead.

  My hands are covered in blood, as I pace outside the ER, wearing nothing but Sabato’s dress shirt and the jacket one of the paramedics gave me. I can’t breathe, but I have to. At least for a little longer. If Sabato dies because he saved me, then I don’t want to go on. I now know this is how he has felt for the last twenty years. I know it, because there wasn’t anything I could do but pump his chest and pray as I cried, trying to get him to breathe again.

  My arms are sore, my whole body is sore and shivering, but none of that matters. I don’t care how I feel, as long as I’m breathing. As long as he is. I look up when I hear my name, and I see Valentina, and her bodyguard running towards me.

  “No, no, no,” I cry as she hugs me and I finally fall apart.

  Ironically, she’s the one person I think understands—in some tiny way—how I feel.

  “He’s strong, he’ll be okay. He’ll be okay because he loves you, Mel. It’s okay.” She is holding me, rocking me back and forth while Franco stands at the desk. I hear him ask about Sabato, but they won’t tell him anything.

  Why won’t they tell anyone anything?

  After a while, I have no idea how long, a nurse comes out and asks us to follow her. I jump up and follow, refusing to let myself think about what I’m going to find when
we get to wherever she’s leading us. When we reach a room just inside the doors, she tells us it’s for privacy. We need to stay there, and when they know something, they will tells us. I want to scream at her, but I don’t.

  I know it’s because I am crying, and I’m hysterical, and probably scaring everyone in the waiting room. But I can’t help it.

  Valentina says something to Franco in Italian and he leaves us alone. I sit in the corner, hugging my chest and praying for Sabato, asking God to take me instead. I want Sabato to live long enough to see that he is a good person. I want him to understand that none of this was his fault. I want him to live, because he never really has before.

  When I look up at the clock, I’m shocked to see that it has been three hours. Three hours and still, I know nothing.

  I stand up, ready to walk out and tear the place apart, but Valentina stops me.

  “Mel, put these on.” She hands me sweatpants and a sweatshirt. “There is a shower in there. Go. Clean yourself up.”

  “No, if they come in here—”

  “When they come in and they tell you he’s ready for you, you’ll be clean. You’ll feel better.”

  I look at Valentina’s kind, pretty, calm face and hate her all over again. I don’t want her here, and I know I shouldn’t feel that way. I feel guilty that I don’t want him to be surrounded by people who care for him. I also know that I am being a total bitch to someone who is showing me kindness.

  “Thank you.”

  She visibly relaxes. “You’re welcome.”

  I take the fastest shower I can. I throw on the sweatpants and sweatshirt. Then push my feet into some flip-flops.

  When I walk out of the bathroom, Nikki, Abe, Paige and Zandor are all packed into the tiny room.

  I swallow hard and promise myself I won’t cry. But when the girls hug me, I can’t help myself.

  The doctor walks in behind them. “I have an update on Thorello Archangello. Who here is related?”

  I step forward. “I’m his sister in-law.”

  “Great.” He ushers me into the doorway, pretending that he doesn’t notice everyone else listening in. “He’s had a transfusion and the bullet was removed. He is expected to make a full recovery, no organ damage. But he lost a lot of blood. When he is about ready to wake up, I will come and get you. They are sewing him up now, should only be a couple hours.”

 

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