She waved at me as she ran back into the back.
“Mani di forbice?” I asked him as an older man sat in the chair, pointing to his chin for a shave.
“Scissor hands,” Giovanni answered when he didn’t.
“Oh.” I understood if he worked here why that would fit. But I also understood from the way they reacted, and from the way Ethan wasn’t communicating anymore, that it was much deeper than that. He told me we’d go out so I could find out more about his past, so I wasn’t going to back down.
“Why, though?”
Giovanni was the only one speaking now and it wasn’t as cheerful as it had been earlier. “Rumor has it that when he was young he went to confession with his family for the first time. The priest told him to confess his sins to the Lord, and Ethan said he was sinless and would only confess when he was no longer sinless. They got into a long argument until the priest could no longer remain with him and left. Ethan, sensing something was wrong with the irate priest, followed him into his chambers, where he found the priest was breaking his vows of silence. He was trying to use Ethan as a way to get information on his father and mother in order to save himself from prosecution. He was a child molester. Upon discovering this, Ethan stabbed the priest with two blades, one a gift from his father, and the other he was holding for his brother. When they found him, he stood over the priest, holding both blades, covered in blood, and confessed to God his sins then.”
“As far as I see it, any man touching children deserves to die, and it isn’t a sin,” Marco muttered under his breath, shaping up the edges of a man’s forehead.
My eyes shifted to Ethan, but it was as if he wasn’t here anymore. He just carefully glided the razor up the man’s neck, who either had balls of steel or didn’t believe the “rumor.”
“What happened after that?”
Marco shrugged. “The church was closed for a few hours, but news broke he was a pedophile. Everyone was furious with the detectives who tried to use another child as bait. Other people were so terrified of him they blessed themselves when he walked by. His mother made him work for her afterward. People got used to him being around, but no one ever let go of the name Ethan Mani di forbice Callahan.”
I looked at Ethan, who still pretended not to hear or care that they were talking about him.
Feed his dark side, enjoy being there with him. Don’t change him. I made him and he is perfect. There is nothing to change. Melody’s words came to me.
“Bloody Melody and The Mad-Hatter,” I said aloud, spinning slightly in the chair. I made it obvious I was thinking. “That follows together so nicely. How the hell am I going to find a name that flows with Mani di forbice?”
That was the only time Ethan paused, standing up straighter, his green eyes piercing into mine so intently I had to look away from him at Giovanni.
“Great names are given. You can’t choose them yourself,” Giovanni said to me.
It was then I looked back at him.
The man who’d loved me since we were children.
The man who’d pulled me out of the pit of hell and sat me on the right seat of him.
The man I was falling more and more in love with as each day passed.
“Give me a name.” If it was something people would still call me even after I died, I wanted it to be from him, no one else.
“Belladonna,” he said, still staring at me.
“Ivy the Belladonna Callahan,” I whispered to myself and then smiled, nodding happily.
The Belladonna and the Mani di forbice.
The beautiful poison and the duel blades.
ETHAN
“She’s real special that one, isn’t she?” he asked me as I swept around his chair. Pausing, I glanced as she and Gabby went over her homework. She sat in my chair spinning slowly, flipping through old photo albums, while Gabby wrote down whatever it was she said. She looked far too happy just seeing pictures, but then again Ivy was a person who loved the little things.
“She is,” I finally replied, but changed the topic to more serious matters. “Do you all have everything you need?”
He grabbed his Birch Leaf tea and sat in his chair, relaxing. “No. But what I need isn’t something you give. The rest of the family is good. I’ve heard Dona has made an impression with people in Chicago.”
“She is my mother’s daughter.” I knew she would, which is why I left her to it.
He nodded sipping, but cringed at the taste, his face bunching up even more. “I just remembered I hate tea.”
“But you hate the pain more,” I reminded him, sweeping under his feet.
“I do.” He sighed heavily before taking another bitter sip, cringing once more. “Porca miseria…” he cursed under his breath before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a flask. He checked over his shoulder before he poured it in and shoved it back into his hidden pocket.
“I’m sure your doctor would be pleased,” I said sarcastically, bending down to sweep up the hair.
“Screw him and cancer,” he muttered to himself, drinking.
Emptying the dust bin into the trash can by his table, I placed the broom by the wall and leaned against his work station, thinking of how to phrase what I needed to say to him.
“Just come out with it.” He waved at me, proving just how well he knew me at this point. “I’m guessing this has got something to do with the chaos happening in the city?”
I nodded. “I’m going to need something from you.”
“What can an old dying man give you?” He snickered, drinking.
“Your life.”
He coughed into his cup, shocked, and due to this condition once he started he couldn’t stop, causing the tea to spill a little.
“Grandpa?” Gabby looked at him, but he waved her off. Taking the cup from him, I handed him a napkin.
Taking it, he wiped the corners of his mouth and looked up at me. “Seeing as how I’ve always been loyal to you and your mother, I’m guessing when you say my life—”
“I need you to die,” I said clearly. “I want many things, Giovanni, and the path to get it starts in blood.”
“And so why not mine.” He rested his elbow on the armrest. “At least you’re polite enough to ask first…or do you have a backup?”
“I trust in your loyalty.”
“You trust no one.” He chuckled and nodded to where Ivy was sitting but not looking at her. “Does she know your plan?”
I didn’t answer because it was none of his business.
“Exactly. We should have called you il burattinaio.”
“We don’t pick our names.” Besides, the only way to be a puppet master, as he put it, was to make sure no one realized you were pulling the strings to begin with.
“Have you set the day you’re going to kill me then?” he asked, glancing up at his shop.
“It won’t be me.” I pushed off the counter, placing my hand on his shoulder. “But I’ll give you time, of course. The information will be set the usual way.”
I tried to lift my hand from his shoulder, but he put his over mine. “I’ve always wanted to ask you something, Ethan.”