Seeking Solace_Angelina's Restoration

by Chelsea Camaron

  Then Alanzo’s patience with me started to wear thin. The threats began and I knew it was only a matter of time. I had to eat food or risk him barging in and having me committed. The fight was draining, but Alanzo was right, Giano wouldn’t be okay with me drowning in myself in his home. I owed it to him to keep on.

  I thought back to when I was such a young girl and I first met Alanzo Mazo.

  Giano didn’t keep regular work hours. He was home more than he was not. The weekend coming up, however, he was leaving. According to the prep he had given me, his friend Alanzo would be staying with me while he was away on business. Until then, we’d had little to no interaction with other people outside of the few times we went out, and that was never with anyone who knew Giano.

  Watching him pack his suitcase, anxiety spiraled through on me before I could blink. I had found comfort in the life Giano and I shared. How were things going to be with someone else?

  “Breathe, Angel,” he whispered. “He won’t have a key to your room. I wouldn’t do that to you. Alanzo will keep you safe and not disturb you. Should you wish to come out, you are free to roam the house as this is your home. However, he cannot and will not enter your room without your permission.”

  I blew out the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. I nodded my head yet avoided looking into his eyes. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Alanzo is family,” Giano answered, as though that was supposed to solve everything. Didn’t he realize it was family who hurt me?

  As if the light turned on, Giano reached out and pulled me to him. “Angel, I wouldn’t put you in that situation. I have a contract. I cannot skip this job. Alanzo would lay down his life before he let any harm come to you from himself or anyone else.”

  Breathing him in, I relaxed. Really, what choice did I have other than to trust this man and the decisions he made? For over a year, my life had been safe in his hands, so I had to believe it would stay that way. Rather than continue to dwell, I did what I felt any dutiful daughter would do and helped him finish packing.

  Alanzo arrived on Friday morning, just after I finished a breakfast of crepes made by Giano.

  “Did you save some for me?” Alanzo asked as he entered the kitchen like it was something he had done every day.

  “Of course. I can’t have you hungry on the job.” Giano laughed as he looked to me to ensure I was okay.

  I nodded so he wouldn’t worry, but all the while, my insides churned in anticipation of the unknown future once he left.

  Alanzo was a short, bald man with dark eyes and extremely huge, hairy arms. Looking at him, I could swear his forearms were as big as my thigh, and his biceps seemed to be the size of my head. He was a tiny terror with a jagged scar that ran under his eye, across his cheek, and clear to his ear. Alanzo Mazo, as Giano had told me his last name, was not a man who gave anyone warm, fuzzy feelings on their first impression.

  “Call me ZoZo, Angel. All my nieces and nephews do. Think of it like Joe–Joe, but with a Z.” His thick jersey accent almost made me want to laugh at the idea of calling this man of muscle by a nickname. “We’re gonna have a good time. You’ve got two choices, doll face.” He pointed to the back where my room was. “You can chill in there, and I’ll leave your food at the door, knock twice and jet, or we can hang out, eat some pasta together, and play checkers.”

  Thinking about this hulk of a man wanting to play checkers, the laughter burst out of me before I could stop myself.

  “What? You don’t think I know how to play checkers?” he asked, pointing to himself. He shook his head before smiling at me, showing a missing front tooth. “Oh, I see. You don’t think I can cook. Well, Angel, you’re in for a treat. I have my great-grandmother’s manicotti recipe right up here.” He tapped his temple for emphasis. “Me and you are gonna eat well while old Pop’s here handles business.”

  I laughed harder.

  “Oh, a smile truly befitting an angel,” he said, watching me.

  Alanzo was always this hulking man of happiness. He never wasn’t smiling around me, until five days ago. When he arrived, he took one look at the scene in my room and stiffened. Sadness washed over his eyes. His face seemed to sag in agony. A feeling I was familiar with myself.

  The last few days, he has spent all his time fixing the house and checking on me. Each visit to Giano’s room, he would push to get me to talk, to make decisions.

  That’s how we managed to work out what came next. Alanzo has been my source of strength at every turn.

  Even now, I wasn’t comfortable with it, but Alanzo said the best way for me to honor Giano would be to follow his wishes.

  For Giano, I would get through this.

  For Giano, I would do anything.

  Only for him and because of him.

  The file felt heavy in my hands every time I dared to touch it. For the longest time, I left it on the bed refusing to open it. Alanzo was persistent. His unwavering pressure each time I saw him made it clear I wouldn’t get by simply hiding out. I had to face what Giano wished for me and what my future held without him in it.

  In the first few pages he laid out funeral arrangements. He even set up one of those prepaid, preplanned services through the funeral home. I learned it was also the funeral home to handle his wife and daughter’s services. They were discreet according to Alanzo and wouldn’t question who I really was. They knew Giano well and understood he would have his own reasons for giving me Angelina’s life. Giano had put so much thought into everything that I didn’t have to make any decisions. Even his casket was picked out and purchased.

  While I found the thought of planning my own funeral morbid, I had to be honest that it simplified the things that needed to be done in the wake of this loss. He made it so I wouldn’t have to stumble over our history, our life, and who I really was. There was nothing asked of me other than a day and time for the actual service.

  The less questions I had to answer the better.

  It helped me feel like I would survive this. Somehow I found comfort in simply going forward according to his plans.

  Today, I dressed in a black dress that fell just below my knees. It was a wrap dress that tied around my waist to the right side. The sleeves were three-quarters length and the top came to my neck line with a tear drop cut out on my chest.

  It was elegant and classy.

  In order to shield my eyes from Giano’s allies and enemies, I wore black sunglasses with a traditional black lace veil covering my head and face. While people had seen me out and about with Giano over the years, today was a day I would be under more scrutiny. The focus of their attention would be on every detail and every flaw of me. I had to be careful. The veil was an added measure that worked. The lace flowed freely down my back landing just above the curve of my butt. The front the veil rested along my collar bone.

  Having thought a step ahead, Giano kept the service traditional, but outdoors instead of inside the Catholic church he attended. He knew if this was an inside mass I would be expected to remove my sunglasses. While I had eyes that reminded him of Nylene, his wife, Alanzo said we couldn’t be so certain his enemies would feel the same.

  What surprised me was the enemies that dared to come. The Esposito’s, for example, sat on the fourth row behind us. The family Alanzo told me had an active hit for both Giano and him actually dared to show their faces here. They just couldn’t find anyone stupid enough to take on the job, according to Alanzo, and that was why he was still alive while Giano took his own life instead of being killed by a hitman. I was thankful for that, but now I worried for my Uncle Zozo. Without him, what would I be left with? My thoughts were selfish, but I was drowning in sadness and couldn’t bring myself to think of anyone else.

  The casket remained open as the Priest began the opening prayer. It surprised me the things the funeral home was able to do to recreate his face. Alanzo told me not to dwell on the details and just let them do their jobs. I suppose there really was very little money couldn’t buy. In t
his instance, it bought a dead man a head with no bullet hole. While the thoughts of it all made me uncomfortable, I had to say I found peace in seeing him complete once again. The memories of how he took his life would forever haunt me, but at least my final goodbye wouldn’t be with those same pictures.

  The Priest then spoke a few words that I tuned out about Giano.

  I didn’t need to listen to some man I had only met a few times when Giano and I attended Mass tell me about his many attributes and accomplishments. Because I knew the one’s the world didn’t. I knew the man who saved me in the darkest of night.

  I watched quietly with Alanzo at my side as people from different families walked passed the casket paying their respects.

  Alanzo shifted beside me. I looked to him. His eyes were heavy with his grief. It dawned on me, he had spent so much time caring for and catering to me, as well as protecting me, he hadn’t had time to process his own loss.

  “Uncle Zozo, I have been selfish. You have lost too,” I whispered.

  He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “The world has lost, Angel, but this is what he wanted. He lived by his code and died by his code. Nothing is more honorable than that.”

  I thought on his words as the Russo family walked up to the casket. The old man, Rafe, who had to be in his nineties, stood over the coffin before leaning in and pressing his lips to Giano’s forehead.

  It was a sign of respect.

  While I wanted to rush up, close the casket and tell them all to go away, I couldn’t.

  The Bianchi family stood patiently behind the Russo’s. The Russo’s gave one last pat of sorts to the casket before making their way to where Alanzo and I were seated on the front row of chairs under the tent. Giulia Bianchi, who was only one of three families led by a female heir, followed Rafe’s lead in pressing a small kiss to Giano’s forehead in a sign of respect.

  “My deepest condolences,” Rafe Russo professed extending a hand to me.

  I shook it and nodded as words were stuck in my throat.

  “Your father was a good man. He worked many years for my family. He will be missed,” Russo continued and my stomach churned.

  These people didn’t know Giancarlo Diamante. Not like I did, not like Alanzo. They were business associates. The area was packed with cars lining the streets, and not one of these people other than Alanzo really knew Giano.

  He kept it that way.

  It was smart.

  I nodded to Rafe Russo and he moved on.

  Giulia Bianchi made her way to me next. “Angelina, your father,” she began and I watched her eyes well up in unshed tears. “He was a man of honor.”

  I nodded.

  “We shared a few drinks a few years after your mother’s death. The way he spoke of you, well, you were his Angel.”

  I got the distinct feeling they shared more than a few drinks and the jealousy inside of me ran fiercely through my veins.

  “He will be missed,” I muttered steeling my voice and my spine.

  “You’re a strong girl, Angelina Diamante. You will do well in life. Should you ever need anything my family is always indebted to yours.”

  I nodded and shook her hand as she leaned down and kissed each of my cheeks according to customs.

  As she stepped back, releasing me, I saw two men out of the corner of my eye in line to view the deceased.

  Paul and Remi Castillo.

  Why were these men here? They were not friends of Giano or me. I understood this was the way this world worked. Even enemies paid respects to the fallen for very few understood the world in which they lived. I certainly didn’t. I wouldn’t be attending my enemy’s funeral and placing a kiss of respect on their dead face.

  “Uncle Zozo, do not let them approach me.” I ordered and he nodded.

  I watched as the Castillo men paid their respects to Giano. It made me sick. They had taken from my family, from Papa Valencia. Their greed coupled with my father’s changed my family, changed my life, and took the light I had from the beginning. They walked with arrogance not pride, there was a difference.

  As I sat, anxiously waiting for their approach, my mind ran over every emotion I was feeling. Anger, anguish, loss, pain, fear, love, respect, and regret. Alanzo stood just as they moved from the casket and gave his attention to Remi. Keeping them occupied, he allowed me to be the grieving daughter as the other families paid their respects to Giano and then to me. It was strange to be in a room full of people and still feel completely alone. I realized not one person from my high school friends or acquaintances showed up today, except Paul Castillo with his father. Truly I had only Alanzo.

  On a nod, I stood and made my way to his coffin.

  Inside the gray shiny casket lined in black silk lay the man who gave me his world. His face looked normal. His eyes were closed as if he were asleep. His hair was done like usual and he wore my favorite charcoal gray suit. Reaching into my clutch, I pulled out the Saint Joseph charm and placed it in his hand.

  With my hand over his, I whispered, “For Joseph was the physical father to Jesus, you were a father to Angelina. You are with your family now. Rest in peace, Giano.”

  Leaning over the box in which he lay, I brought my lips down to his one last time. They were cold, unmoving. He was gone.

  I was lost.

  On a sigh, I took his last moment for my own and let a tear fall down my face. Stepping back, Alanzo wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

  “I take your pain as my own, Angel. I take his pain for us both. Let go for that is his wish,” Alanzo whispered and I blew out a deep breath.

  He guided me to my seat as the funeral director moved to the casket and closed it.

  The service continued on with the priest following traditional funeral mass and then laying Giano in the ground. I fought to keep my composure, but with Alanzo never leaving my side, I drew strength from him.

  I didn’t speak to anyone as Alanzo led me to the limo and we went back to the house. Alanzo gave me space which I needed.

  Going back to my room, I stood in Angelina’s space.

  Alanzo had cleaned and replaced everything making the room go back in time once again. It was still the soft pink color with the lace curtain covering the window and even the old childhood books of Angelina’s remained on the shelves. I went to the window and looked out. The lace curtain between my fingers, I held tight to what I once held dear.

  The rain began to fall and I still stared out into the yard. After some time, I removed the veil, the dress, and put on Giano’s shirt with a pair of my shorts. I moved to my bed and laid down. The soft mattress enveloped me as I settled into the space that had been my home for so long now.

  My eyes closed and I drifted to sleep lost in time, lost in life, lost in love.

  Lost in myself.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The dream took hold of my mind and wouldn’t let me go as I fought to wake up.

  “Don’t hold back.”

  Without another word, he scooped me up and carried me to my room, allowing his pants to slide off where he stood. The bed creaked as he laid me down, his lips crashing onto mine and his hands sliding down my sides. He climbed over me and lay to my side as his hand cupped my sex, teasing me.

  I was so deep in my sleep, in my dream, it felt like I was back in that very moment.

  His fingers parted me, and he circled my clit before sliding them inside my core. I arched up at his invasion. For a moment, I had a flash, and my body tensed, going back in time. The burn was real. The ache still filled me, but my hesitation didn’t waver. For only a moment, I was lost and back to the little girl under my father’s weight.

  He broke our kiss, dropping his head to my lace-covered breasts where he sucked through the material, bringing me back to the here and now. The sensations overwhelmed me. I was a ball of knots, feeling like I could die from the pleasure while I waited for it to erupt.

  I rocked into his finger, and he added another, stretching me, preparing me. I was no long
er tense or afraid; I was wanton and lost in the moment. Instead of my past invading as I had feared, the touch and the sensations consumed me, leaving no room for anything else.

  Leaning over, I slid his shirt over his head, exposing his glorious body to me. The sprinkling of chest hair felt rough against me, his muscles flexing with every movement while his eyes were lost in lust. Then I paused, letting his fingers fill me as I burst around his digits. The aftershocks washed through me as I became overly sensitive.

  I could only moan incoherently as Giano would whisper or groan. I was so lost in the sensations I couldn’t give my attention to his words. I was terrified, if he stopped—if we stopped—I would combust. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing or move the wrong way and chance giving up this ecstasy.

  He pulled out of me and slid over me as he slid my lingerie up then kissed his way down my belly. He gently nipped at my inner thighs before swiping his tongue over my tingling pussy lips. As he lapped and licked and set me on fire, I came alive again, needing more.

  Reaching down, I pulled his face to my own and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips. I slid my hands down to his boxers then pushed them down, freeing him. Gripping his length, I slid my hand up and down his shaft, feeling it throb with each stroke.

  He was huge, and for a second, I paused, wondering how he would fit. Then I imagined the feel of him inside my slick heat, and I was ready to push him in myself.

  I guided him to where I wanted him, but before I could line us up, he moved my hand away and took control. He slid the head through my lips then rubbed my clit, and I arched into him as the tip then slid inside me. I was so wet he glided right in as I stretched to fit him.

  I tensed as I felt the burn, and he paused as he hit my virginal barrier. Then with a surge, he broke through, and I cried out as the pain mixed with pleasure, and I saw lights behind my eyelids.

  I had wanted this man from the moment I realized what men and women were really meant to do together. It was everything I had ever imagined it to be and then some. He turned something once so bad and horrifying into something almost magical. Love filled me, passion burned from inside me, and I couldn’t let go as I craved more and more. This was a high I felt like I could die from if it crashed down around me.