“Will do,” I say, and he backs away.
I wave the bartender over as Lenny disappears, and she comes over quickly to take the drink’s order. I tell her to add it to Lenny’s tab, and she leaves me briskly to grab two drinks. When they arrive, I pull Lenny’s drink over toward me, wait for Giovanni to occupy the bartender’s attention and reach for the vial pressed between my breast and bra. I pull it out, pop the lid and look around over my shoulder before looking back down at the brown liquor. I begin to pour, but as the first drip of venom balances wobbly on the lip of the bottle, I realize I can't do this. I try my hardest to tell myself to just drop it in and leave, but my body doesn’t respond to my mind’s commands. For once, my conscience has apparently overridden my entire system, and it’s winning.
I killed who I was meant to – Big Al, Marius, and Jimmy deserved to die. I did justice, now I'm serving a beast with God complex, and I'm unable to it. I’m unable to kill for my father, and the torture is almost too much to bear. My conscience billows awake in a fiery fury and attacks me all at once.
I sit back and suddenly close the vial within my clasped hand. I’m shaking and I’m trying to steady my breathing, but I’m caught in a passionate frenzy between right and wrong.
“Do it,” Giovanni says as he suddenly takes to my side. He shields the rest from the club with his body.
“Back off,” I snarl my retort and roll my shoulders, trying to shake some of the tension growing like concrete through me. What happened to my ability to pour this shit and never think again? Now, I’m sitting here like a coward worried about what this stuff will do to Lenny. I never had that second thought – ever.
Giovanni decides to invade my personal space, and I feel him begin to breathe heavy down my neck. “Just pour the fucking stuff in and get ready to shrug him off.” He whispers the words into my ear and places a hand firmly on the middle of back, making it seems like he’s giving me a nice chat, but really he’s annoying the crap out of me. “Do it,” he whispers, chanting like some wicked devil on my shoulder. “Amelia,” he says my name delicately. “Just do it.”
“Back off,” I repeat my earlier statement.
However, Giovanni won’t let me go. Instead, his hand comes over my shoulder, gripping it, showing his dominating will to break me. He tightens his fingers around me, and I feel him paralyze me a little. I’m unable to move from his grasp as he leers over me and I close my eyes, breathing through the pain radiating from the pressure points he’s applying.
“Just fucking do it,” he states, grinding his teeth together as he does so. He seems to think this tactic will smother me with fear and make me act out of terror. Stupid fool doesn’t seem to realize he doesn’t scare me. “There’s a hot redhead over there I want, and the more time I spend with you, the less chance I get at fucking her,” he speaks while tightening his grasp, and I cringe. “So do it.”
“Hey!” Lenny’s voice breezes toward us, his tone hot with anger as he watches Giovanni apparently all over me – the fact we’re blood relatives is irrelevant. “Get away from my girl!” Lenny exclaims, tapping Giovanni on the shoulder.
“Perfect,” Giovanni whispers and begins to laugh as he turns around.
At first, I was confused, but now I see it as Giovanni’s perfect opportunity to get Lenny outside so he can meet his maker. He turns around, pumps out his chest, and sets his body like a brick wall as he acknowledges the scrawnier man.
“Your girl?” Giovanni asks, brazen nonetheless. “Last I saw she wasn’t wearing a sign.”
Lenny tries to measure up to Giovanni, but my latest kill doesn’t have half the muscle Giovanni has built. This, on the other hand, doesn’t take away from the fact he can assert some attitude. “Well, maybe if she had fucking came onto you first you’d have dibs. She’s mine for the evening. She’ll be sure to remember me come morning.”
“I don’t think it’s very nice to treat a beautiful lady like some sort of object,” Giovanni begins enraged at the way the man is speaking about me. To be fair, it’s nice to have him fight for my corner – for show or otherwise. Lenny has treated me like I’m a hot piece of ass he’ll get to drill tonight.
“Well, she is,” Lenny fights, and I wonder if he knows he’s actually digging his own grave. “She’s my object who came onto me first.”
“Fucking, Coglione!” Giovanni bellows at Lenny, taking calculated steps forward with an intimidating stance. “How dare you disrespect my sister like that? Who are you to objectify her? Because the last time I checked, you were a cowardly thief.”