Tamara nodded.
“But there’s a problem. My kind isn’t allowed there. Without a soul to shield me, they will spot me in seconds as soon as I arrive.”
“And?” Parker asked.
The Gray Man squinted at them. “I have to find someone willing to go with me, do you understand, Mrs. Fasano?”
Tamara’s thoughts were overwhelming. It was obvious what she could do to help save her husband, to fulfill the vows she’d made on their wedding day, to have and to hold, in good times and bad. But what about Janie and Seth? How in the world could she ever leave them, all alone? Kyle would never want that. How could—
“Take me.”
It was Detective Villa, a look of resolve on his face.
The last strands of an eerie moonlight were now fading away behind clouds that had drifted in between the stars.
The Gray Man stepped towards Detective Villa and they stood there, eye to eye.
“You? The man who has lost his faith? You of all people are the one willing to risk going to hell?”
“YES,” Napoleon replied firmly before swallowing hard. He couldn’t believe he was saying it.
Napoleon felt The Gray Man’s eyes bore into his very being, pouring into every corner of his heart and mind, turning over all the boulders that were concealing his darkest thoughts.
“So much of why you suffer is due to what you hide, Villa,” The Gray Man murmured. “We’ll deal with that later.”
Napoleon nodded. The Gray Man had evidently looked inside his mind, and had seen things. Not the least of which was Joaquin Murrieta.
“You decide with vengeance in you, Villa,” The Gray Man said.
Napoleon looked away.
The Gray Man continued. “But in theory that might increase the odds of this working. Your soul can be my vehicle, and your lust for vengeance my disguise.”
Napoleon felt Mrs. Fasano staring at him incredulously. “You don’t even know him,” she said meekly. “How can you do this? I should go.”
“No. No you shouldn’t, Mrs. Fasano. You have kids. They’ve already lost their father. Maybe forever. To lose their mother, too? No. I’ve been there, Mrs. Fasano. No kid should have to go through life that way.”
Now it was Parker’s turn. “Nap. I can’t believe any of this is really happening, but if it is, ya gotta think this through,” he pleaded.
A quiet fell among them, then The Gray Man turned back to Napoleon. “Do you truly realize what you’re committing to?”
Napoleon nodded, then gave voice to the only concern he’d felt since first speaking up. “There’s just…” He looked at Parker. “My little nephew. His name is Efren.”
Parker looked stunned.
“Please look after him.”
Parker nodded. “I will… until you get back.”
Napoleon barely knew Parker, but so far in this case he’d shown all the right instincts and, more importantly, a good heart. “What was that you said, Parker? When we were talking about surviving in Afghanistan?”
Parker looked at Napoleon grimly. “If you want to survive hell—”
“—you gotta cover the backs of the guys who are in it with you,” Napoleon finished.
Parker’s face grew firm. “I got you covered on this.”
“And if I don’t come back?” Napoleon pressed.
“I’ll still look after him,” Parker said with a nod.
The determination in Parker’s voice brought a peace to Napoleon’s decision that helped make it final. He glanced around at everyone, locking eyes with Mrs. Fasano for a moment, and he smiled. She was a good wife. At least in this whole, crazy, topsy-turvy case, he’d gotten that much right. Finally, he looked back to The Gray Man.
“Are you sure?” The Gray Man asked.
“I’m sure,” he said, and thinking again of Joaquin Murietta, he added, “After all, what better place to conquer your demons, right?”
The slightest, most infinitesimal smile crossed The Gray Man’s lips for just a sliver of a second, and then it was gone. “He’s already in hell, Villa. It’s only the hell in you that now needs to be conquered.”
A fear and trembling washed over Napoleon as The Gray Man approached him and put his arm around his shoulders. His body grew warm as a light from within him began to expand and spread.
It was beautiful. So beautiful.
He thought of his grandmother.
She was right; she’d always told him that—
TAMARA COULDN’T BELIEVE her eyes. The glow around The Gray Man began to expand, enveloping him and Detective Villa.
Then they were gone and the immensity of the moment finally hit her.
“What just happened?” Tamara begged Detective Parker, who was the only one left with her, but he just shook his head.
She looked to the house and then to the sky. “Kyle? Kyle!” Her screams echoed across the lawn and down the hill.
Sirens were approaching, their wails in the distance only adding to her own now as she broke away from Detective Parker and stood before the house, determined to rush in, to see for herself that there was nothing left of her husband within.
She never made it.
A realization pierced her heart, hitting her with such an acute pain that she dropped to her knees on the lawn just before she reached the porch. She dug her fingers deep into the grass in an effort to hold it at bay.
There was no use.
Kyle was gone.
The love of her life was gone.
Just like that.
*****
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*****
THERE ARE SOME DEMONS YOU NEVER SEE COMING.
The story continues with A MILLION TO ONE.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A lot goes into teaching and helping a writer to learn how to properly listen to the voices in his head. I'm pretty sure the process never ends. But so far, along the way, I've had some amazing people come into my life in this regard and this page is for them.
To my grade school teacher whose name is now sadly lost to me: thank you for taking the shy kid in the corner and telling him that he could write. After you came Mrs. Gilchrist at Jefferson Middle School, who taught me how to push on, Mr. Morgan McSweeney at West Torrance High, who taught me how to believe in myself, and Dr. Howard Hertz at Pasadena City College, who taught me how to tell the truth.
Thanks also to the long-standing members of my Novel Writers Group: Beverly Diehl, Bruce Bartels, Vance Gloster, Kim Townsel and Hilaree Robinson. You have all cared for me, encouraged me and sometimes critiqued the hell out of me! Also, to my beta readers: Tinky Schmidt, Amouri Burger Maryke Burger, Melissa O'Gara, Herbert Smith and Dean Baker....I couldn't possibly be more thankful to any of you.
A special nod goes out to my creative team, including editor extraordinaire Sophie Playle of Liminal Pages, Andrew and Rebecca Brown at Design for Writers and the awesome web design work of Laird Sapir at Memphis McKay.
A great big thanks and I love you to my wife Maxime, my son Anthony and my daughter Sophia. Finally, to my Dear Cousin, Diana Kobus, thanks for being my muse.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tony Faggioli began writing stories in the 5th grade and continued doing so until college, when he gave up writing to pursue a very short career in politics and a much longer career in business. One day, he finally realizing that neither brought him anywhere near the amount of joy as writing. Born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, he was raised in Los Angeles, California and graduated from the University of Southern California. He is a happily married father of two kids, two dogs and a pretty awesome goldfish.
For more information, connect with Tony on:
@steelertony
tfaggioli
> tonyfaggioli.com
ALSO BY TONY FAGGIOLI
One In A Million (Book 1 of "The Millionth Trilogy”)
A Million to One (Book 2 of "The Millionth Trilogy”)
One Plus One (Book 3 of "The Millionth Trilogy”)
Coming in 2017, "The Snow Globe", a psychological thriller.
One In A Million (The Millionth Trilogy Book 1) Page 31