A Truth and a Lie

by V. Sousa

  “You haven’t been around for a long time, Emmett. Things have changed,” I responded with a snarl.

  “They’re about to change a lot more,” he countered.

  I opened my mouth to ask him what he was talking about, but he turned and walked toward my father’s office without another word.

  After two fucking years, he just glided in and didn’t even look the slightest bit affected about seeing me after all this time.

  Meanwhile, I was over here, feeling like my heart was being ripped out all over again.

  Love is a weakness. I repeated the mantra in my head.

  Dinner was going to be a blast.

  After I’d finally had a minute to think about what Emmett had said, I was more confused now than I was when he’d initially said it. Emmett had never been the type to be cryptic. Not only that, but what could he possibly know that I didn’t?

  Like clockwork, it hit six, and I was summoned with a knock at the bathroom door.

  “Hurry. Everyone’s waiting,” my mother said through the door.

  I opened the door and looked at my mother with a big smile planted on my face. “Let’s go join the shit show!”

  She didn’t think that was funny—tough crowd.

  Walking into the dining room, following behind my mother, I spotted Emmett sitting by my father, but I stopped short when I heard the voice of the devil himself, Emmett’s father, Vincent Rossi.

  Remember the old ugly mafia boss from the movies? That was him. Although he still had all his hair, give it a few years though, and I was sure he would have lost most of it.

  Thank God Emmett got his looks from his mother, not that it mattered now anyway. He might be beautiful on the outside, but his inside was hideous.

  “Nice of you to finally join us, Rose,” Vincent said with a huff just as I stepped into the room.

  He’d never liked me, and I was perfectly okay with that. I honestly think the majority of the reason Vincent disliked me so much was because I was almost the same height as he was—he at five foot five, and me at five foot four. It’s a punch to the male ego when they feel short, especially to this sexist asshole.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mr. Rossi,” I replied with the fakest smile I could, and of course, that earned a nasty look from father.

  Now, I know I said I was good at pretending I was friendly at these types of dinners, but Vincent was an exception.

  It was bad enough I had to sit here and pretend like this man wasn’t a major creep, whose eyes lingered a little too long when he looked at me, but my father was sadly mistaken if he thought I was going to be nice to any of the Rossi family members. Especially these two.

  “Anyway,” Vincent said, looking me up and down with a disgusting sneer, “now that Rose has finally graced us with her presence, I think it’s time for the big news.”

  “Why don’t we wait until after we eat?” my father suggested.

  “Nonsense. There’s no time like the present.” Vincent smiled as he turned to Emmett.

  He talked as if he was a king or something, all commanding and condescending. It took a lot of self-control not to point out the fact that if it weren’t for his cousin being shot down, he wouldn’t even be in the position of power.

  I would have loved to knock him down a few pegs, but I didn’t want to cause problems for my father.

  Everyone stared at each other for what felt like forever, so, being impatient, I took my seat and turned to my parents. “Well, what is it?”

  After another full minute of silence, my father cleared his throat. “Rose, I have arranged for you and Emmett to marry in six months as a sign of peace. The Romano’s and Rossi’s have shaken hands, and it’s final.”

  It took me a few seconds to understand the bomb he’d just dropped on me.

  I opened my mouth to say something but then shut it when I decided against telling everyone at dinner how I really felt about my father’s “arrangement.”

  My father just gave me away to the enemy—to the family responsible for so many of the deaths of his closest friends.

  He knew damn well I wanted no part of the mafia, and not only that, but he gave me to the boy who had ripped my heart out and left me there to bleed.

  What kind of sick fucking game had my life turned into?

  The worst part of it all was that no matter how much I fought it, I knew in the end, I’d have to go through with it.

  I looked around and saw everyone staring at me, waiting for a response that they weren’t going to get. Well, not tonight anyway.

  The room began to spin, and I felt myself starting to sweat.

  I had to get out of here. Fast.

  I shot up from my chair with so much force that it fell back and hit the floor with a loud thud.

  My mother flinched, and I watched as my father put his head in his hands. I looked at Emmett and saw that he was already looking at me with black eyes and no emotion in sight. Big shocker there. I shook my head and let out a huff of disbelief before I left the room.

  I went right up to my bedroom, grabbed my keys, and walked straight out the door.

  Fuck this.

  Three

  Emmett

  “Well, that went as well as I expected,” I said as a door slammed shut.

  “She’ll be fine. Probably just going for a run. She does that sometimes,” John said, trying to sound nonchalant, but I could see the worry in his eyes.

  “Well, we must be going. Try to keep your daughter under a tighter grip, John. Her attitude won’t be a good accessory when she’s married to my son,” my father said in a tone that was meant to be serious but, in turn, just annoyed the fuck out of me.

  “I’ll walk you out,” John said with a sad smile, getting up from his seat.

  I was grateful that I had brought my car so I could follow Rose and make sure she wasn’t doing anything reckless now that her father had told her, but I think I had a good idea of where she had gone.

  I got a text from Rose’s guard that confirmed my assumption.

  Lorenzo: She just got to the cemetery.

  Emmett: Thanks. On my way.

  Pulling up to the cemetery, I saw her right away. She was lying at her brother’s grave, looking up at the sky.

  She came to the cemetery to visit her brother once a week, sometimes more, and every time she came, she looked up at the stars and talked to him for hours before she’d finally fall asleep.

  From my usual spot behind a tree that was a few feet away from where she lay, I heard her speak.

  “Remember when we were ten, and Emmett cut my ponytail? I ran to you, crying because it was almost time for my ballet recital, and I was so excited for Mom to curl my hair, but now, because of him, my hair was too short to curl, so you beat Emmett up so badly he didn’t come to school for three days? Or the time that he put fleas in my sleeping bag when we went camping in the backyard, and you broke his nose?”

  I let out a snort, hearing her rehash the dumb shit I used to do for her attention.

  Sammy and I always fought back then when it came to Rose. He knew I liked her, but he always told me I wasn’t ready yet and that I didn’t deserve her, and he was right.

  Rose used to be so sensitive when she was younger, and all those little pranks I’d pulled would make her cry for days, but I was a young boy who didn’t know how to handle my crush and just wanted her to notice me.

  The first time I saw her, I was transfixed by her beauty. Black hair, beautiful green eyes, a bright-ass smile, and dirt smeared all over her face.

  She never noticed me when I first moved in. I had watched her and Sammy playing outside for a few days before I finally mustered up the courage to go to them.

  Even at eight years old, I had told myself that I had to marry her and that I would do anything in my power to make that happen. But this wasn’t what I’d meant when I said it.

  My thoughts were cut off when she continued.

  “Well, now I have to marry him, and you’re
not here to beat him up for me. I don’t know what to do, Sammy. How am I supposed to marry into a world that I want nothing to with it? This life took you away from me. What if I fall for him again and the same thing happens? This isn’t how my story is supposed to go.”

  I hated seeing her hurt like this, especially when I was the one who was the cause, but I had no choice in the matter either. It was either me or some other guy from my father’s territory. Who knew what kind of person it would have ended up being?

  I’d seen the cold, defiant look in her eyes earlier, and most mafia men thought beatings made women obey. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing she was getting beaten every day. I’d rather she be forced to marry me and hate me. At least that way, I knew she’d be safe.

  I lowered myself to the ground, sitting against a tree, and listened as she talked and cried for another hour before she finally fell asleep to the empty sounds of the cemetery.

  When two a.m. hit, I quietly walked up to her and gently lifted her in my arms, being careful not to wake her. I cradled her to my chest and allowed myself to breathe in her beautiful scent of vanilla and honey.

  Walking to her car, I opened the door and gently placed her in the back seat. Even with her face all blotchy and her eyes puffy, I swear she was still the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. It was moments like these that made me want to beg for forgiveness, but I knew I couldn’t.

  Sammy had been my best friend. I’d promised him that if anything ever happened, I would protect her, and I went and broke her heart two days after he died.

  The hardest thing I’d ever had to do was watch the last tiny bit of light she had left in her eyes fade and be replaced with complete darkness.

  Lorenzo drove my car the two blocks it took to get to Rose’s house, and I carefully drove her and her car back, parking in her spot. Lorenzo went ahead of me, opening the doors so I could glide in without moving her too much and waking her up.

  I placed her gently on her bed, and just as I was tucking her in, I heard footsteps coming closer.

  Pulling out my gun and turning quickly, I found her mother standing there with tears in her eyes. She didn’t even flinch at the sight of a gun pointed at her, but I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  I quickly put it away and placed Rose’s phone and keys on her nightstand.

  I’d been fortunate enough to not cross paths with Mrs. Romano very often whenever I’d had a meeting with John. Every time I saw her, she just looked so defeated. All I could see was the cold, distant look in her eyes, and it saddened me. She was nothing like the woman who used to walk into a room and have everyone smiling and laughing in the first five minutes of her arrival.

  I turned to leave, making sure to keep my head down, but her voice stopped me in my tracks.

  “Every time she leaves, I wonder if it will be the last time I’ll see her.” She walked past me to her daughter and sat on her bed, gently moving Rosie’s hair from her face. “She’s become so detached. Tonight was the first time I’ve seen any real emotion out of her in months. She even tried to crack a joke, but I know it was all from anger. One of my children died, and the other lost herself.”

  Finally getting the balls to look at her, the only thing I could conjure up was a weak ass “I’m sorry.”

  Instead of answering, she just continued to brush Rosie’s hair back and quietly sang to her.

  I could never repair what had been broken in the Romano’s, but I sure as hell could try my hardest to keep everything together.

  I left the Romano’s house, and just as the clock read three a.m. I was exhausted, so I decided to go to my old house across the street. That way I didn’t have to drive the twenty minutes it took to go home.

  Walking into the house, I was surprised to see my father’s office door open and the light on. I thought he would have been on his way back to New York by now since he hadn’t stayed in Chicago overnight for years, ever since his cousin died and he became one of the underbosses of the Rossi crime family of New York.

  I tried my best to walk by without being noticed, and I was almost in the clear when I heard my father call me. Stopping mid-step, I turned and walked into his office.

  “Yes?”

  “Did you find the little brat?”

  It took every ounce of control I had in me not to snap at him, and after about fifteen seconds of breathing, I could finally answer him without snapping. “Yeah, I called her father to collect her.”

  “I hope she knows she can’t pull this shit when she’s married to you. I can’t wait for all the attitude she has to be stripped away when you’re finished with her. Get to bed. We have business to handle tomorrow,” he answered with a sadistic smile.

  My father had this sick idea in his head that I was just like him. I played along most of the time, but only because I didn’t want him getting suspicious.

  “Yes, sir,” I said as I turned and made my way out of his office toward my bedroom.

  I’d never understood my father’s dislike for the Romanos. I’d heard a rumor that it all started when my father and John were young. Supposedly, they’d fallen in love with the same girl, and she chose John. Personally, I didn’t feel like my father was capable of love at all, so I didn’t know if that story was true or not.

  I would have liked to say my father was a loving person at some point in my life, but thinking back, there was never a time that I could remember my father showing me any kind of love or compassion. I guess it expected when you were the product of an affair.

  Well, I called it an affair, but my father called it an “I can do whatever and whoever I please.” Though, in Mom’s defense, she hadn’t known about Dad’s wife until after I was born.

  For a while, I’d thought it was just me he disliked. Then I saw my father with his wife and other kids, and I found he was just as cold toward them. I was told he had another child, a girl, but I’d never met her. I doubted he was any nicer to her either, though.

  I guess I should have been grateful that I got to live with my mother eight hundred miles away from him. He often came to visit, and I had to visit him sometimes, but it was just my mom and me for the most part.

  Growing up, my mom always taught me to be forgiving and kind, but throughout my life, I’d learned that some people didn’t deserve forgiveness, much less kindness, and my father was one of those people.

  I was ten years old when I first saw my father hit my mother. I flew into the room, throwing punches at him, and he laughed the whole time. When I finally tired myself out and stopped, he hit me so hard that I saw spots until I hit the floor.

  After that, he made sure to lock me in my room when he felt like using her as a punching bag. I would have to hear her cry all night until he either knocked her out or she had no energy left to cry.

  Seven years later, my mother was driving to pick me up from school for fighting this punk kid who’d grabbed Rosie’s arm when Mom’s car was shot at and set on fire.

  An hour after she was killed, the principal pulled me into his office. When I first went into the office, I was confused because I didn’t see my mom anywhere, but then he told me my mother had been in an accident. I asked him which hospital she was at, but he frowned and shook his head. He told me he was sorry and that she didn’t make it.

  I asked how he knew, and he told me that my father had called the school and asked if the principal could relay the message. I flew out of the office and ran all the way home, needing to see for myself that she was actually gone. I wanted this to be one of those tests my father put me through to “toughen me up.” I was hoping that when I got home, I would see Mom in the kitchen, smiling at me, but when I got inside, she wasn’t there.

  I was walking to her library when I heard my father’s voice coming from his office. I didn’t even know he was visiting, so I quietly got closer to the door to make sure it was him and not some random person. When I stopped to listen, I heard him thanking someone, saying how glad he was that �
�she’s finally out of the way” and that “all the money was there.”

  I didn’t want to believe that my father would kill my mother. I knew he was a monster, but there was no way he would go this far, right?

  I got my answer a few hours later when I realized he was gone. He’d come to Chicago and left without seeing me or even saying anything to me. If it weren’t for me coming home early and hearing him in his office, I wouldn’t have known he was even in New York.

  He didn’t even have the decency to show up to the funeral.

  To this day, he has never mentioned my mother or her murder to me. It was as if she’d never existed. I knew they hadn’t loved each other and were never really together, but I didn’t think he hated her so much to the point of murder.

  I don’t know why he’d had my mother killed, and I didn’t think I would ever find out, either.

  I did know one thing, though. The first opportunity I got to kill him, I wouldn’t think twice. Consequences be damned.

  Four

  Rose

  Sixteen Years Old

  We’d been driving forever in complete silence.

  I hated when Emmett came back from his dad’s. He got all quiet and moody, and it took him a solid week to get back to his usual self.

  We were doing so good before he left that I had even thought he was going to ask me out, but now, seeing how he was acting, I didn’t foresee that happening anymore.

  I hated his dad. He ruined everything.

  We pulled up to some woods, and he put the car in park before turning it off.

  I turned to him and gave him a confused look, and he just blankly looked back at me.

  He hopped out of the car and started walking, but when he realized that I didn’t follow, he walked back and came over to my side.

  He barely had my door open before I yanked it back and locked it.