John goes to speak. You can see the poison running through his veins, feel his need to kill Royal himself. Salvatore silences him. When Salvatore silences you with his hand, you listen, it doesn’t matter whether you’re family or not.
“I believe him, John. Why would he start a war? He has no reason to. I stay out of his way and he stays out of mine. This isn’t the 1920s when families fought against each other for control of empires. Sure, there are families who hate each other. Shit, I can’t stand Ivan. He has no respect for anyone. I don’t like the way he conducts business. I definitely don’t approve of drugs or prostitution. We stand together on this. You and I together. We’ve talked about this. It’s not easy for me, either. For years after Royal left, I listened to my Lola cry herself to sleep many nights, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to ease her pain. I listened to her pray for his safety. For him to return home and get the help he needed. We both still mourn for the son we lost, my own goddamn flesh and blood in a living, breathing monster of a man. But what can I do? I can do right by the people who have done right by me, or I do nothing at all. I’m doing what I have to do, not what I want to do.”
Manny jumps up.
“We kill him, that’s what we do! Fucking wipe them all out.”
“Sit the hell down, Roan!”
Whoa. That’s the first time in years I’ve heard Salvatore call Manny by his given name.
“No, damn it, I won’t! Do any of you know what it’s like to be restrained? Feel helpless as you sit back and get brutalized by your own brother? Watch a woman who you’ve sworn to protect be drugged, bound to a chair, and beaten? Do any of you know how that feels? Those visions rattle around in my fucked up head every day. I close my eyes and I see the hatred in Royal’s face. I take a shower, I see his face. Everywhere I look, I see him. My own brother, who tried to kill me. He failed at that, yet he still managed to take something precious away from all of us. Do any of you know how much it killed me to see them torture her like that?”
Manny starts to pace the floor. His breathing is heavily labored. His hand is clasped at the back of his neck.
“Manny,” Salvatore stands and walks cautiously towards his son. “I’m sorry, son.”
He opens his arms wide. Manny stands there for several long seconds. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for, that we’ve all talked about. Manny has kept this all to himself. He hasn’t spoken a word about it at all, up until now.
Out of the corner of my eye, I carefully regard John’s reception of hearing the things that Calla was subjected to. Neither he nor Salvatore have mentioned the video since that night. The flash drive has been destroyed, stomped into pieces by the heel of my boot and scattered somewhere alongside the road. There was no need to save it, it’s not like this crime will be reported to the police and Royal will be prosecuted. His punishment will be death. His body will be disposed of just like Monty’s, Emerald’s, and Kryder’s were.
It’s late in the afternoon the next day by the time we leave the house with John and Cecily and head toward the city and our new apartment. Make that two apartments. John and Cecily own one in the same building.