Mateo
Icouldhearthe “tap, tap, tap” of her feet stamping like a steady metronome and I used it to fuel Mozart’s “Fantasia In C Minor” beneath my hands. Her feet slowed during the crescendo, but I didn’t let up the pace, my fingers moved faster with a delicate ease I practiced almost my entire life. She stood watching me almost like she needed permission to move at all, and I shifted a few inches on the piano bench as an invitation.
She reminded me of a wild animal.
Completely unsure if she should move any further or move back to where she came from in a quick hurry. There was a look to her that said if I were to make any sudden moves she may just run out of the room. Based on her current condition I didn’t think that would be possible though, but I wouldn’t have put it past her to try. I scooted one more inch over, implying the obvious as I finally looked away from the instrument, keeping my fingers moving and in control at all times.
It took her so long to come to my side that I began a new song, another Sonata in the book of Mozart sheet music that had long retired to the storage portion of the bench. I hadn’t needed it for a long time, its secrets had been sealed to my memory permanently since the age of nine.
“What did the doctor say?” I asked as I played the final notes slower than needed.
“You said it yourself last night, I’ll live to fight another day,” she gave me a soft smile, but I didn’t return it.
“Why did you come here?” I tried to keep the jealousy and left-over anger from reaching my voice, but it was impossible to hide it.
“Because the first time I trusted myself to fall asleep without you there, I woke up to someone trying to fork me to death,” she dead-panned.
“Fair.” I responded, trying to keep my emotions in check, refusing to show how surprised I was at her honesty.
I was never sure what I was going to get with her. If she was going to willingly tell me exactly what was in her head, or if I’d maybe get two or three words I’d have to use to decode a bigger puzzle later. Adding it to my ever-growing list of things that tormented me.
“Did Álvarez lock you out?” I let my insecurities show, not bothering to hide that I envied my brother.
“I didn’t check, couldn’t really handle the thought of rejection right now. Are you going to tell me to leave?”
I sighed heavily trying to ignore the agonizing ache in my brain and I stood from the piano, extending my hand to help her up as I guided her to my bed, the same place she woke up from just this morning.
“Berserk won’t want you in here,” I reminded her, but she crawled into my favorite side of the bed anyway and I picked her legs up off the floor to help her get comfortable without pain.
“You do everything how he wants? Besides, he’s too busy with the Doctor to care,” she spit, and I huffed a small laugh out as I realized we’d all somehow managed to end up doing the same dance. She was jealous, he was jealous, fuck it, I wasjealous. It seemed like the only person with common sense left was Santo, but I was starting to wonder if he was just better at hiding his crazy. She looked up at me in annoyance from my reaction, but I just shrugged my reply.
“What a tangled web we weave, hmm?” I asked, turning to my closet. “Do you need anything for the pain?” I looked down at her blood covered hoodie as I pulled out one of my t-shirts for her, but she shook her head at me.
“No, do you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows up as she waited for an explanation.
I shook my head at her before I started. “My neurologist says migraines are common with severe cases of PTSD.”
“From being in the Navy?” she asked, and I twisted my face, shaking my head at her again.
“I’ve been getting these for a lot longer than that.”
“From your sister,” she didn’t ask, she said it and I confirmed it with a nod. Most people thought it was from my time overseas, hell even my brothers thought that. But the truth was there was nothing I’d done or seen with a gun in my hand that fucked up my head. Nothing like the image of Andrea that played on repeat in my head like a constant echo of my sorrow.
“I don’t think I can get this off by myself right now,” she admitted, shaking me out of my fog. I lifted her elbows up over her head and grabbed the hem of the hoodie as I pulled it up and over her head. I couldn’t hold back the growl that escaped my throat at the sight of her. It took every single ounce of restraint I had to not reach out and caress her beautiful copper skin. But she didn’t cover herself with her arms, she just waited for me to get the clean shirt for her.
“Who taught you to play?” she asked as I slipped the t-shirt over her head, and she slid her arms through the sleeves.
“My mother, she played just about anything. She went to school for it, ended up becoming a musical director at the university she went to and conducting the Symphony there. She taught my sister and me the piano and the Cello,” I explained.
“That’s amazing, I wish I could do anything artistic,” she said looking around the room. “Looks like you play more than just the piano and the cello though.”
“I picked up a few things here and there, I guess I’m just like her in that way. I like to compose, and sometimes you just need a full symphony. It’s easier to piece things together if I’m the one playing it all,” I explained to her.
She laughed and said, “I can’t tell if you’re really talented or just afraid of not being in control.”
I shrugged my shoulders, but I knew the answer.
“Where is your mom now?” she asked.
“Boca Raton, I think. That’s where she was last time, I followed up on her, she remarried about a decade ago to a car salesman. We haven’t talked since I was eighteen.” I answered, knowing full well I was crossing a point of no return, sharing far too much of myself and letting her in somewhere she absolutely did not belong.
“Oh,” she breathed out. “Because of your sister?”
“Because I reminded her of it all. Because deep down she blamed me as much as she blamed my old man, that I couldn’t save Andrea. Because it was easier for her to pretend like she could just start over instead of picking up the pieces and rebuilding with me. I was on my own from the moment the police took that piece of shit away, I didn’t have a mother anymore after that either.” I released the words out of me, in a way I had never admitted to anyone before.
“That’s very sad. That must have been really difficult, you were so young,” she empathized, but she was probably the only person in this penthouse who understood the pain of losing someone like I did, but my loss suddenly felt shadowed by the magnitude of hers as I remembered her history.
“It shapes us, right?” I asked.
“Either that or it destroys us,” She responded looking into my eyes, “I lost my little sister too.”
“I know, Zerkos talked about her a good amount,” I said, and her eyes widened in surprise. “He keeps a photo of her in his wallet, even now.” I let her know, even though it wasn’t my place. I knew whatever they had between them now was completely fucked up, possibly beyond all repair, but she still deserved to know that her sister meant something to more than just her too. Sometimes we were so burdened by the ghosts of our pasts that we didn’t realize we might not be the only ones who were haunted. Her exhale came out in a stuttered breath as she fought back her emotions.
“What happened to him?” she asked with a bit of hesitation to call him what he was, my dad, the guy who made me. The scariest part of that acknowledgement was the ever-looming thought that there was a fifty percent chance I would end up just like him someday, but I would end myself before I ever let that happen.
“He’s been in prison ever since. I never saw him after he was convicted. What was your father like?” I prodded to see if she was willing to give me anything else tonight, and to my surprise, she answered.
“Just, like…me,” and she pressed her lips into a fine line.
At this point, I tossed my boots off and put my leather jacket on the bedside table as I climbed into the bed next to her. I was leaning against the headboard and out of habit she leaned into me, readying herself for sleep.
“What happens on the fifth floor?” she asked me, her voice full of drowsiness.
“Bad things, Sunshine,” I told her the truth without telling her anything at all. The fifth floor was where we did the heavy load of our work. It was where anyone who crossed the Black Crows was taken when they were captured. The kennels were an all-expense-paid vacation to the Bahamas in comparison to the fifth floor.
Anyone from the Black Crows was allowed to fuck with our prisoners, however they deemed fit. Sometimes Hughes and the others who manned the floor just forgot to feed them for weeks at a time and we’d come back to rotting corpses. I knew he put Oksana there to scare her, and as much as I didn’t give a shit about her, I did have to wonder how safe she was down there. Cecilia didn’t press for more answers, and she let out a heavy exhale that let me know sleep wasn’t too far.
This time I tucked my arm behind her and pulled her in towards me. She adjusted herself as I brought her head into my lap, my fingers softly stroking the black tourmaline strands of hair splayed across my legs. It didn’t take long but soon her anxious exhales turned into soft peaceful breathing and I knew she finally relaxed into sleep. I took my phone out and snapped a photo of her on my lap with my middle finger flashing the camera and sent the photo to the group text.
Me: Your little flower doesn’t seem to know what she wants…
Álvarez is typing…
Berserk: Why is she out of my room?
Me: Goldilocks came to my door out of her own free-will. Shouldn’t have left with the Doc.
Álvarez is typing…
Berserk: I’m coming up to get her as soon as the Doc quits bitchin at me.
Me: Don’t be an ass. She’s asleep
Me: Álvarez. U good?
Álvarez: Yeah…
Me: Lock my door for me will ya? I can’t get up. *Tongue sticking out emoji*
I rested my head on the headboard and a few minutes went by and I heard the creak of my door opening followed by the click of the lock and a soft shut. I already knew without a doubt it was Santo because there was no way in hell Berserk would have come in here without ripping her out of my arms. I made a mental note to thank Santo in the morning. I knew the only reason he locked the door was to keep Zerkos from blowing a gasket and throwing her back down in the kennels tonight, but I was grateful for it either way.
The morning came fast and abruptly, the sun shining through the glass of the exterior facing wall. I reached over for the remote to close the automatic blinds and soreness hit my entire body like a freight train. I was still leaning against the headboard, head bent to one side and her head in my lap. I looked over at my phone and it read four-forty-eight, so I decided to slide my body all the way down the bed, as I wrapped my arms around her fully and curled myself around her. Somehow the pressure in my head wasn’t as intense this morning and it was easy to fall back into sleep.