“Why settle things? Why not just get rid of them?”
Killing Vincent Cesare would be the highlight of my career.
“Because, you dumb prick, Jack has Johnny on his side now.”
Right. The Cravotta family boss in Montreal. They’re a big family, and a war against the Vittorios and the Cravottas would be a bit too much to handle.
“What did you do with the body?”
“Relax. I buried his head and hands in a farm on Long Island. They’ll never fucking find it.”
At the sound of my confident voice, Tony’s hackles settle down and he backs away finally letting go of my suit.
“You better hope they don’t.”
Then he storms out of the bathroom, the door swinging in his wake.
I'm not convinced that Tony will let things slide, but it’s time to pay a visit to Johnny and Brian.
Then I’ll think of what to do.
* * *
My rage builds around me like an electrical cloud as I get in my car. I had plans today, but now they’re all fucked. I told Adriana she had to take the metro today. I think on some level she felt relieved—that look she gave me when I squeezed her neck said it all, really. She looked at me like I was some kind of monster.
It wasn’t such a big deal. Why do women have to get into hysterics about everything? Sometimes people do violent things out of love. My Ma beating my hands with a wooden spoon when I stole snacks from the cupboard—that was done out of love. She was trying to teach me to be a good boy, but I never listened. I know I’m rotten to the core, just like she always said. Look at what I do for a living.
But you only stole the snacks because you were starving.
A soft, low voice in my head speaks in my head. Tears spring in my eyes suddenly. I shake my head violently, nearly crashing into traffic as I slam the brakes.
No. Ma loved me, she just didn’t know how to show it without hurting me.
The other voice in my head simmers with quiet disagreement. I don’t like thinking like this. It just upsets me.
Adriana’s frightened face haunts me as I drive to Jersey. The stormy, grey clouds above my head reflect my mood as I park and step out of my car. Brian and John should already be inside. Carefully, I approach the back door of the deli and watch them shoot pool and eat sandwiches inside the employee area. There are no captains there. Great.
They’re laughing when I enter the room. Brian leans over the pool table, shutting up immediately when he sees me enter.
“What’s so funny?”
John, a young guy with spiky black hair, stands against the wall with a pool cue. He is still smiling. “Nothing, we were just breaking balls.”
“Come on, I want to hear the joke.”
Cocksuckers.
He gives Brian an uneasy look. “Carmine, relax. We’re just letting off some steam.”
The other men back away nervously as I approach John, whose hand clenches over the pool cue. I can practically taste his sweat. The fucking bastard.
“What did you say?”
“I’m sorry, Carmine.”
I corner him against the wall, looking into his wide eyes. It’s my own fault for having a reputation for being a nice guy.
“Oh, you’re sorry? That’s nice.”
I smash my fist into the side of his fucking head. The room explodes with gleeful yells as I pounce on him, pinning him on the floor as I channel every drop of my rage into my fists.
“Carmine, what the fuck?” he screams.
Grabbing a beer bottle from the pool table, I smash it over his head and it explodes in a thousand pieces. Glass shards are lodged in his face, blood streaming down in little rivers. Then I wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze.
“You told Tony about the guy I brought here, you fucking worthless piece of shit. What, did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
His eyes bulge as I squeeze harder and then strong arms wrap around me, yanking me back. The jerk-off gulps down air and my shoes slip from the glass. Brian looks at me with a deer in headlights look, confirming his guilt. A ball of fury builds up in my chest and I lunge towards him.
“Carmine, calm down!”
“Get the fuck off me!”
Brian holds up a hand as if to placate a wild animal. John cries on the floor, clutching his face in pain. “I had to tell Tony the truth. He’s the boss. What did you expect?”
I rip my arms out of their grasp and aim the broken beer bottle at his face. “The next time you go crying to Tony Rizzo, I’ll do you worse than Johnny over there.”
I throw the beer bottle as hard as I can, aiming for his face, but Brian ducks out of the way and it explodes.
“Oh! What the fuck, Carmine?”
I don’t give a fuck.
One of them stoops down to help Johnny, who is still crying like a little bitch. They all look at me like I’m crazy. The floor is covered in shattered glass and flecks of blood. My chest heaves, my fingers itching to wrap around Brian’s throat.
“Fuck all of you.”
My gravelly voice trembles in my chest. Shaking, I turn my back on them and walk out.
* * *
“Mr. Lucchesi?”
I turn my head to the Italian receptionist, who gives me an uneasy smile.
Must still look pissed off.
Immediately, I brighten at her and set the flowers on the counter.
“Are those for your mom? They’re beautiful!”
“Yeah, they are. Thanks.”
“Um—your mother is in her room. Go ahead!”
For a moment, I’m tempted to just leave the flowers and go. Do I really have the patience to deal with her today? The receptionist’s encouraging smile makes me take the flowers off the counter and walk down the hall.
A huge, deep green golf course stretches beyond the glass outside. Every surface inside gleams, from the hardwood floor to the picture frames. Not a speck of dust. A man plays ragtime on a grand piano in the common room and he smiles at me as I pass. Everyone looks happy to be here. They better be at five grand a month.
I take a shuddering breath as I stop in front of Ma’s bedroom and knock on the door.
A perpetually angry voice shouts. “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Ma.”
“Carmine! Come in.”
I twist open the door, my nose twitching as I inhale a stale smell. It’s a big room with nicer furniture than I have at my house. There’s a sofa and a big, stuffed armchair, a 20-inch lcd screen, and a giant window with white curtains, kept firmly shut.
It’s dark inside. Everywhere.
I set the vase of flowers next to her head carefully. The yellow flowers seem to wilt in her presence, or maybe that’s my imagination.
Ma is buried under her comforter; her grey hair long and unkempt. Red-rimmed eyes seek me out—as if blaming me for something.
“What did you get those for?”
I inhale air. “I thought they would brighten your room a little.”
She waves them off dismissively. “I don’t need those. What’s the point in giving me something if it’s just going to die?”
Just fucking say, ‘thank you.’
“Nothing lasts, Ma. That’s why it’s important to enjoy things in life.”
Her eyes narrow at me. “There’s nothing in life to enjoy. I’m so sick I can’t even get up out of bed.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not sick, Ma. It’s all in your head.”
Her eyes bulge out of her sockets. “How dare you!”
My heart jumps in my chest when she screams at me. “The doctors said so.”
“Oh, you think you know everything, don’t you?” she snarls. “You can’t even get a wife. That’s what I have to live with, with the shame that my son is a fag.”
My chest tightens and heat fills my face.
Step back from the bed. Don’t hit her.
“I am not a fag.”
“Yes you are,” she grins nastily. “With the way you dress and how you always c
ry and beg me—”
I almost lunge at her, but I grab the glass vase of flowers instead. A brief vision of me grabbing them and smashing the glass into her skull fills my eyes.
“I have a girlfriend.”
Suddenly, her attitude does a 180-degree turn and a smile widens her face. “Is she Italian?”
“Of course.”
“Well, are you going to marry her?”
I already know that I want to. “Someday.” Thinking of Adriana dispels some of the tension and my hand relaxes on the vase.
“Why didn’t you bring her here, then?”
“We just started dating, Ma.”
Suddenly she screws up her face. “I know why—you’re ashamed of me. Oh Lord, what did I do to deserve a son who is ashamed of his mother? Do you complain about me to her? I bet you do.”
I’ve told her a few things. My insides twist with guilt.
“Why do you always have to be this way?”
“Oh, poor you.” she snaps “I’m the one stuck in this nursing home. Left here alone to die.”
Fucking hell.
She dabs at her face with a corner of her bed sheet.
“Jesus Christ, you’re not alone. You’re surrounded by people.”
Ma grabs her tissue box from the nightstand, burying her face in cotton as she sobs. “I gave my life to my child and he repays me taking the Lord’s name in vain.” She gives me a venomous look. “You’ve always been such a little bastard—such a spiteful, hateful child.”
Darkness fills my vision. “Who was the one who burned cigarettes on my chest? Who starved me, beat me, made me kneel until my legs bled?”
“I never did any such thing!” she moans. “Why would you make up such horrible lies about your mother?”
I grit my teeth, my body burning with hate for her. She used to say it all the time, until I doubted my own memories. I wondered if I really was crazy—that I imagined it all.
I didn’t imagine the scars all over my body.
“They’re not lies, even if you refuse to admit them.”
“I bet your girl that you’re dating is a lie, too. Why would anyone want to be with you?”
It’s like I’m floating above myself.
I see myself lunge across the bed, grabbing a pillow and burying it in her face. Her muffled screams don’t even reach my ears.
I’ve snapped.
Maybe it’s because it’s a question I ask myself all the time, and to hear it from my own mother is too much to bear.
Her nails dig into my arms, scratching, but she’s too frail to fight me off. She has to die. Even if I stop now, she won’t hesitate to call the police and put me in jail. I know that.
Bitch. Fucking bitch. Cunt. She was always a nasty woman. She was so terrible that she drove my dad away. He wanted nothing to do with us because of her.
She ruined my life.
Made me who I am.
And I am the monster she says I am. When I kill, I’m numb. There’s not a damn thing to stop me from doing it because I like it. I feel powerful.
Gradually, her moans fade and her limbs stop kicking. It takes over ten minutes for her to die. I lift the pillow, almost hesitantly.
Her mouth is open like a gaping fish, her eyes staring.
Jesus, what have I done? I killed my mother. I killed my mother.
The pillow drops to my feet and my back hits the wall as I inhale deep, panicked gasps. They saw me come in here. What the fuck am I going to do?
I killed my mother.
She wasn’t all bad, wasn’t she? Didn’t she take care of me when I was sick, hold me when I cried, didn’t she apologize for every burn on my body, every mark she ever made?
Oh, God.
I sink to my feet and take one of her hands, which is still warm. My throat is thick with tears when I bring it to my lips. “I’m sorry, Ma. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it!”
Her glassy eyes stare upward, unmoved.
She used to say the same thing.
It’s nearly a half hour before I get enough sense to leave through the open window. I can’t call for help. They’ll know she was smothered. They’ll know it was me. I’ll have a few days, at least, before the autopsy finds fibers around her mouth and inside her lungs, her bloodshot eyes, the high levels of carbon dioxide in her blood.
I get the fuck out of there, slipping through the window and running over the golf course back to the parking lot. I just can’t believe that after everything I’ve done, my mother was my downfall. If only I could come back at night and set fire to her room—but no, it’s too much. I have to leave town.
My whole life is here. Everything I’ve worked for. I can’t just leave here.
My hand trembles on the shift of my car.
Maybe I’m overreacting. I wiped that room of all my prints. Without anything linking me to the murder, there’s no way they’d be able to convict.
No, fuckhead. They have footage of you going inside the room.
When Tony finds out about this, he’ll go apeshit. I need to leave town.
But I’m not leaving without her.
VINCENT
I walk along the windows of my apartment as if I’ll be able to spot her from here, looking down at New York’s metropolitan jungle.
Why the fuck hasn’t she called me yet?
“Fuck!”
My voice echoes throughout the lonely apartment and I try not to think of what her silence might mean. Adriana isn’t stupid; she knows that we’re both in dangerous positions. I made it very clear how important it was for her to call me regularly so that I knew she was safe. It’s almost been two days, and I still haven’t heard back.
He must’ve gotten to her.
I already drove to Maria’s parents’ house and looped around. There was no sign of her inside or out. She wasn’t at her dorm, which wasn’t easy to check because I’m not even supposed to be seen near her.
My neck snaps around as the front door rattles with keys. I sweep into the foyer; heart beating a little faster than usual as I grab the piece strapped to my leg and aim it at the door. Adriana’s head pokes through and she screams when she sees the gun aimed at her head. Fuck. I put it away immediately.
“Damn it, Adriana. You better have a good fucking explanation.”
She slides in, wearing a low-cut dress that shows off her cleavage. For a moment, I forget my anger and I just want to tear her clothes from her body.
Adriana’s whitened face seems to shine in the hallway. She kicks off her heels and suddenly tackles me with a hug.
I grunt as her body collides with my chest and wrap my arms around her shaking shoulders. Fuck. What now?
“He—he choked me. Vince, I thought I was going to die.”
White-hot rage consumes my head as a pounding beat in my head keeps me from thinking of anything but how exactly I’m going to kill Carmine.
I hold her against me until I hear her squeak with pain, and then I slacken my grip. “What happened?”
“On Sunday, the feds picked me up right outside Maria’s parents’ home and when they dropped me back there, Carmine saw. He was waiting for me.”
No.
A blazing sensation travels up my spine. If Tony found out—
“He took me to his house and—” she collapses into sobs. “It was horrible.”
I’m desperately holding in my rage for her sake. Don’t scream. Don’t yell. Just act like everything’s fine.
“I’ll take care of him, Ade. Don’t you worry. He’s seen his last fucking sunset.”
She sighs into my chest and looks up at me, neither relieved nor unhappy with my decision.
“Vince, there’s something else. I found something in his apartment—a photo of my mom. Why would he have that?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.” Who cares? “We have bigger things to worry about, like the fact that Carmine saw you getting picked up by the FBI. We can’t let him tell Tony.”
Both of those pricks need to d
ie.
Her nervous face looks up at me. “They wanted to know who killed that missing cop. Do you think he might have done it?”
Missing cop. Oh, Jesus. The one that was in the news recently?
“Fuck, I don’t know. I guess it’s possible. He’s completely out of his mind.”
“So what do we do?”
I have to admire her bravado. My arm curls around her waist as I bend over and kiss her head.
“You’ll stay here and you won’t do a goddamn thing. I’m serious, Adriana. No phone calls, giving or receiving, unless they’re from me.”
She nods, looking tired. My fingers brush against the faint bruises on her neck and pressure builds up behind my eyes.
“I can’t wait until all this is over. Will it ever be?”
“It will. I promise.” I take her delicate chin in my hand and give her a soft, quick kiss.
I can’t believe he got her—again. Right under my fucking nose. I can’t stand this anymore. I feel violated. He took her throat and nearly strangled her to death. When I get ahold of him, I’ll make him beg for me to kill him.
Adriana rubs her neck, making a pained face. I want to break down. I want to succumb to madness and kill every asshole that touched her in the last few weeks: Carmine, Tony, Jack, and anyone else who threatened and stalked her.
This whole thing is just out of control. Everybody has lost their place. Even me.
I just feel powerless.
But not anymore. I’m going to take things into my own hands. No more tiptoeing around bosses and fucking rules. No more playing nice. No more pretending I give a fuck about this stupid deal.
There are bruises on her neck from a man who she was forced to date. A man she would’ve never met if she was never in my life.
Would she be better off not knowing me?
The sudden thought stuns me. I shove it away, refusing to think about it anymore.
“Are you okay?”
I take her face in my hands, searching her eyes for a clue for something that’ll make her crash, make her relapse.
“I’ll be okay if I’m with you, I just want him out of my life.” Adriana lowers her head. “I wish I could’ve found out something. Makes everything I did seem pointless.”
It’s too painful for me to stay here, and my self-restraint is cracking. “I need to go.”
Double Blind (Vittorio Crime Family #2) Page 17