The Life - Rebirth (The Life 4)

They hadn’t beaten him, hadn’t mistreated him in any way, but their silence as the days went on had somehow instilled a fear in him that couldn’t be assuaged. He’d pleaded and questioned, but no answers had been forthcoming. They’d acted as if he weren’t even there. Like he was less than the dust beneath his feet.

At first, he believed that it was his father who had done this, but by the second day, he knew better, for what he had done, for the shame he had brought to his grandfather’s precious name, his father would’ve killed him already.

He'd been looking for a way out when he was taken. He knew things were coming to an end; the life he’d looked forward to with his wife and children destroyed the second he laid eyes on her son. He hadn’t expected that night to come back to haunt him in this way. He’d thought the girl long dead along with her father. It would’ve been the virtuous thing to do, after all, to take her own life so as not to bring shame to her family.

She’d brought it on herself, Sofia Antonelli; how dare she deny him when no one else ever had? How dare she hold her ideals above him? The son of the wealthiest man in their Borgata? In all of Palermo, maybe. She hadn’t suffered anything more than the others who came before her, maybe a bit more humiliation which she’d brought on herself with her higher than thou attitude.

It had been his right; he’d done nothing wrong for the times; it was expected. These are all the things he’d told himself to justify his actions, and besides, she’d been little more than a distasteful memory after that night. He’d been hard-pressed to recall why he’d found her so desirable before the act.

As soon as it was over, he’d wanted her away from him, the lust he once held for her now dead. When she’d disappeared, it had meant nothing to him, beyond the thought that it would be good not to have to see her again. Not because of any guilt he’d felt, but he’d had no more use for used goods. For years he’d not even spared her a thought; she played no part in his day-to-day life.

But when he saw the boy, he knew. Somehow, he’d known from the very first, no matter how his father protested, that it was not a coincidence that the boy had shown up at this time. But what did he want? What was he after? And more, what did he know? He’d let his guard down, believing the boy’s act of ignorance, and had led not only himself but his friends into the trap set by the young man. Of this, he was certain now.

So what game was this? Why bring him back here after all that? His father had already given up on him. He knew that too was coming after the old man started singing the boy’s praises and even more so when he got his first real look at the boy. He’d done the one thing Alonzo could never have done; he’d been the spitting image of his grandfather, the man his own father had idolized all his life.

Still, he could’ve found a way; he has always found a way to get around his father. And this time would’ve been no different had it not been for the boy’s interference. He should’ve known better than to go after the girl with a stranger in the house. She’d changed since going away to that school had become more resistant.

But how was he to know that she’d cry out? Had she done that because she trusted that the boy would hear and save her when no one else had before? It’s hard to know, and besides, what does it matter now? He was home; anything can be done…

MOUTH

“Come on, asshole, move it along.” I laid flat on my stomach in my hidden place on the little knoll behind the garden outside the palazzo. The windows had been left open as ordered, and the place was clear. That’s one of the only things that had put a crimp in our plans, but the stars had aligned somehow, and I hadn’t had to take desperate measures to bring it about. Otherwise, we would’ve had to find another place for this final showdown, and it wouldn’t have had the same impact.

I tracked Alonzo Ricci through the hallways keeping him in my sights as he made his way to the ballroom where the music played. I knew exactly where he would turn and what he would see. Everything depended on my accuracy. Since I wasn’t going for a kill shot, this was new to me.

He came in and turned to face the projector screen where a clip from some orchestra was playing. I was too far away to see the expression on his face, to know if he understood the significance of the song that was being played. I’m not sure why; maybe he sensed me, but he looked up just as the first arrow sang through the air and slammed into his shoulder, lifting him into the air and pinning him to the wall behind him.