The car veered off the main road making a drive up the winding narrow street along a mountainous cliff. Dominic accelerated. “Did you hear me? I want to see Giovanni. I have a right to be heard!” They continued up the mountain taking on more speed. “What did she tell you? Did she say I hit her? She hit me, and it was a reflex reaction. For Christ’s sake, she’s my wife, and she taunts me with her feelings for you. She’s lying about me! I swear it!” he shouted.
Franco tried to open his door. Dominic swerved closer to the cliff and the door was knocked shut. Franco immediately grabbed at the wheel. The men struggled and the car swerved again nearly colliding with an oncoming passenger van. Dominic threw up his elbow and connected with the side of Franco’s skull. The man buckled, almost loosening his hold of the steering column. Strength returned, and Franco fought him.
The car jumped from the road and sped out along the sloping embankment through the forest. Franco screamed. Tree limbs and branches broke against the windshield as they plowed forward, shaking them about roughly. Dominic slammed on the brakes before crashing into a tree twice the size of the car.
Desperation made him act. Franco reached for the door handle and heard the click of a gun. His head slowly turned and he gazed into the barrel of a weapon leveled at his head.
“Figlio di puttana,” Dominic sneered.
“Giovanni doesn’t know does he? He doesn’t know you’ve been fucking your sister!”
“Catalina is not my sister.” Dominic said, but his voice wavered.
“Then let me speak to the Don. Let me plead my case. If you two aren’t brother and sister, let him decide our fates. You can’t, can you? Because you know. You know he would not order my death! Don’t do this. There is no good way this ends. None.” The smile of the devil dawned over Dominic’s face. Franco saw the truth in his eyes. “You don’t care. You really don’t care of the consequences. You are going to execute me in cold blood. You know she set us up. Catalina did this. She’s dangerous. She did this for revenge. I confess! Okay? I-I-I haven’t been faithful. I have my own cross to bear. I’ll leave her. I’ll tell the Don my shame and leave. I will give her a divorce or whatever. I’ll return to Sicily.”
Dominic slapped Franco across the face with the gun. The blow crashed through his skull and rattled his brain. He spat up blood, and it bled from his nostrils. The ringing in his ear muffled the hoarse threatening words he seethed. Franco slumped over to the door. Tears trekked down his cheeks. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die like this.
“Get the fuck out!” Dominic ordered.
“Please don’t kill me! Please!” His jaw pained him beyond belief.
Dominic wavered. He didn’t want to kill a man. He didn’t agree with violence though he’d learned at a young age to accept its inevitability. Ever since he was a little boy he’d lived through it. That’s why the Battaglia’s adopted him to make him a better man. Dominic nearly laughed at the irony. Being consigliere made him a man of honor. Being a Battaglia made him a man of wrath. May God forgive them all. “Get out now and maybe you have a chance. Sit there, and I kill you on general principle,” he said.
Franco opened the car door and dropped out on all fours. Dominic opened his door and got out as well. Just as he suspected the coward staggered to his feet, limped, and then ran out into the thicket of trees. Dominic raised the gun. He fired, and tore out the bark from the side of a tree. Franco ducked and ran faster. Dominic steadied his aim and fired again. Franco took the shot in his back and dropped to his knees. Dominic walked around to the boot of the car and popped it open. He reached inside and grabbed the shovel. He slammed it down. Here was as good of a place as any.
The body of Franco lay in the grass soaked in blood. Dominic tucked the gun in the back of his pants. He reached down and grabbed Franco’s wrist with one hand and held the shovel with the other. He dragged him deeper into the woods.
****