“He was standing next to your father, holding his hand while he accused mine of stealing from him.”
My skin prickles. I shake my head, trying to deny this truth but my gut’s telling me different. Vague memories of my mother’s distant stares, those times I’d spy her sobbing. The day I watched through the crack in the door as my father comforted her with words like, “It’s in the past. Dwelling on it only makes it worse. Our time will come, my love. All will be set right.”
I was so young at the time. I didn’t have the courage to expose my eavesdropping and ask what they were talking about.
As the years slipped by, whatever secrets they kept became distant memories.
At least they did for me, as I turned a blind eye to the truth and bought into the lies so I could maintain my lavish lifestyle and not have to feel guilty for my family’s shady business deals.
“He pulled the trigger first, you know. Your father shot mine in the chest. That’s why your brother died. My father’s gun went off as he was falling and your brother scored it in the head. There’s no coming back from a wound like that.” She purses her lips, then swallows. “My father was recovering in the hospital when he got a visit from the mighty Mr. Sorrentino. He swore that one day we’d pay for killing his son.” She raises her finger. “He never said when, just promised revenge.”
No! I don’t want to believe that! My father is not a killer. Marco is! He’s the devil!
My vision is blurry with tears. I can’t speak. All I can do is shake my head in denial.
“My father didn’t kill Robbie,” I manage to croak. “They didn’t even know about him! I met him at the end of the summer and kept him a secret from everyone. My father wouldn’t have known about this! Uncle Marco was just…”
“Just what? Just happened to be stalking you and shot my brother for the fun of it? Get a clue, you stupid girl!” Her sharp voice shuts me up. My paralyzed mind is burning, threatening a full-blown meltdown. “We moved away from your family’s threats. My father wanted to keep us safe. We figured after all this time, it’d be okay to return. We’d stay out of your way, you’d stay out of ours. But no…you just had to hunt my brother down and finish what was started twenty years ago!”
“That’s not how it went! There was no hunting! I cared about Robbie, okay?”
She shuts me up with a backhand slap across the cheek. I barely feel it. I’m too numb from shock and pain to do anything more than take the hit.
“This ends now. Your father is a fool and he will pay the ultimate price. I will kill every member of his family and then finish with him. I want him to suffer, knowing he’s responsible for the death of his children, his wife…”
Mom!
I tune out the rest of her words, my wrath igniting as I listen to this woman spout off about killing every member of my family. My father may not be an innocent man, but surely my mom can’t be involved with this. I refuse to sit here and let this injustice reign.
Robbie’s sister will not be killing me tonight. I need to get out. I need to warn my family.
The taloned bitch has stopped talking. She’s now standing over me, reaching out for the knife. As soon as her fingers lock around the hilt, I lurch forward. My quick movement takes Brutus off guard and I’m able to strain against his grasp and snatch the woman’s wrist. Pulling with all the force I can, I fall back into the chair while the knife digs into Brutus’s stomach. He stumbles back with a grunt, tripping over the chair behind him and thudding onto the floor.
Using the surprise to my advantage, I lunge out of my chair. No longer held down by the big guy’s beefy hands, I bury my shoulder in the woman’s stomach and knock her off her feet. She lands with an indignant scream, scrambling back to her feet and coming at me with her tiny fists. I knock them aside and shift my weight, executing the head-butt move Riley taught me.
Her head lurches back and she wobbles on her feet. Touching her forehead, she stumbles, her heel catching on a hook in the floor. Her fall is sharp and final, her head catching on the window frame.
Blackout. She flops like a rag doll.
I have no idea how long it’ll take her to come back around and with Brutus writhing to get up, I have to move quickly. Jumping across to him, I pull the knife from his middle. He groans and swipes at my ankles. I hit the floor. The knife rattles onto the metal. I ignore the pain in my hip and start wriggling away from his groping fingers, grappling for the bloody knife that’s an inch away from me.
He’s trying to get up.
Snatching the blade, I struggle onto my butt and start hacking at the rope around my ankles. By the time I’m freed, he’s lumbered to his feet, storming towards me with a rough growl.
I scream and scramble out the door, attempting to run down the stairs on legs as useless as silly string.