"These are my babies. You can't just take them from me."
"I don't have a choice." My body tenses as the sounds of Esmeralda's heels click on the floor behind me. The sound grows louder until she's directly behind me. Ruby's eyes widen, her jaw is slack, and her already wan complexion pales even further. She never has seen Esmeralda the way I see her. Cold, ruthless, unforgiving. After this, I can't imagine Ruby won't be able to see Esmeralda for who she really is. But it wouldn't be the first time she surprised me.
"Do it," my wife hisses in my ear. It's so quiet that I almost miss it.
Taking a deep breath, I pull out the knife--a classic bayonet style from World War II--that once belonged to Ruby and Esmeralda's grandfather, and I place it against Ian's throat. He thrashes and pulls against me even as I tell him that he's going to hurt himself. The knife grazes his neck just enough to make him shout out in pain. I don't want to kill him. I can't kill him.
"Don't hurt my boy," Ruby warns. "You hurt my boy and you'll live to regret it."
"Get out of the tub and leave the children there." Jesus fucking Christ, if she would just get out of the fucking tub we could be done with this already.
"I'll have to hurt him if you don't get out of the tub."
Neither of us move or speak for a long time. Not even Esmeralda pipes up. Thank fuck. I can't stand here and beg the woman I . . . Ruby while my wife complains behind me. This is hard enough. My stomach tenses, my throat tightens, and if I'd been able to keep anything down this morning, I'd be convinced that I was about to throw it up right now.
"Essie, please," Ruby whispers, finally breaking the silence among the adults. Her eyes are fixed on her twin. Ian is still whimpering, but he's stopped moving. The babies cry and cry, waiting for their mother to attend to them.
"I can't. I'm sorry." Esmeralda's face is fucking priceless. Wide, tear-filled eyes, a trembling lower lip, and a scrunched brow. Everything about this woman makes me feel sick. I'm a monster, but at least I don't paint myself the victim. I am the vile things that are said about me. I am the son of Carlo Mancuso, Sr. I am the piece of shit that feels nothing for his wife but everything for her sister. I am all of that, and I fucking own it.
The severity of the moment gets to me. It's too much. Everybody wants something, and nobody here gives a fuck about what I want. My father didn't care what I wanted, so he tried to make me into the perfect principe. My wife didn't ask what I wanted, so she demanded a family. My mother didn't ask what I wanted, so she's getting Ruby out of the picture. One day, a long time ago, just before I lost my soul to the gold band on the fourth finger of my left hand, Ruby asked me what I wanted. Her. I wanted her. And I had her, but only briefly, and that's how we ended up here. It's all bullshit. The Omerta, the family, the code. This thing of ours. What a fucking joke.
Enough.
This has to end.
I'm not even thinking anymore. I'm just bringing the knife to the corner of Ian's eye, and I'm digging into his skin. He's crying, Ruby's crying, the babies are still crying. Esmeralda is silent. Her nephew is being sliced fucking open, and she's silent. I dig in deeper, my rage boiling over, enjoying the way the blood drips from his small, innocent face. If I don't stop, I'll slice into his eye and he'll go blind.
"Out of the tub," I demand. Ruby's moving now, quicker than I expect. She's trying to set them down, but she can't. I'm not sure how she managed it before--with Ian's help maybe. "Faster," I bark at her. I can't hold on to this for much longer. I can't continue to cut him open like he's a fucking fish. He's a child. Her child. And he's crying and thrashing about. He's got to be in some serious pain. There's more blood now, and it's coating the handle of the knife, making it slick.
Carefully, Esmeralda slips past me and Ian. She walks slowly, as if she's tiptoeing, toward the tub. I can't even hear the fake-ass bullshit she's saying to her sister on her approach. I catch a few words here and there. It's my fault. This is my idea. She's being forced into it. I could argue, but why should I? So Ruby can know the truth? I can't take that from her. Right now, I'm taking everything else. I won't take the love she has for her bitch sister, too.
As Esmeralda convinces Ruby to put the babies down, I pull the knife back from Ian's eye. My hand shakes, my fingers slip on the handle, and I suck in a shaky breath. I'm not paying attention. The blade is still dug into his flesh, and I've created a scar halfway to his ear now. Esmeralda gets Ruby out of the tub, and she stands in front of her.