Femme Fatale

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  Once again, he’s been the father I’ve never really had.

  I cling to him as desolation falls from the skies and showers me. All the fear I felt and didn’t truly release now comes out and I bury my head further into my brother’s chest. It’s as my onslaught hastens that Enzo grips tighter. One arm goes around my back, bringing our proximity even closer, while his other hand cradles my head against him. I hear him coo into my ear, shushing my woes, trying to calm me. I’m completely protected in this embrace and allowed to be my absolute weakest and rawest form here.

  “You’ve got to tell us what happened, Lia,” Enzo soothes gently, trying in vain for answers. “But Amelia, you need to just realize that Carlo and I will not let this slide,” Enzo states as we finally part. I take the moment to wipe my face clear of my tears and take a step back. “This is far from over.”

  “We’ll get you back and see what he has to say,” Carlo chimes in. He reaches out for me, pulling me to him to give me a hug. “He won’t get away with this sort of emotional abuse.”

  I nod my head, apparently disbelieving as all men give me a glare.

  “He won’t care,” I managed to admit and remind myself of the soulless man that has full rein. “I’ve never felt that terrified,” I utter as I finally decide to confront everything that has happened. “One of them started touching me and then they all did. I thought, for one second, that maybe I deserved it. I used Mom’s death against him, so maybe-”

  “No,” Enzo bites into my sentence, cutting me off quickly. “Don’t you dare ever think you deserve to be placed into a predicament that scares you because you found a voice. That man needs to see that you aren’t some clone of him. You have feelings, very real feelings, and you’re jeopardizing yourself to please him. He needs to know how this is affecting you, Lia. If you don’t, then you will forever live in fear.”

  “I’m always going to live in fear,” I admit and look down. I can’t meet my brother’s gaze. I’ve survived twenty-three years under the Dio Lavoro’s teachings, so I’m not sure what changed to get me thinking I can’t survive another twenty-three.

  “Allana will be taking the kids out in a moment,” Bruno comments, opening the front door and gesturing with a head nod to go inside. “We need to discuss what Salvatore is up to now. I just don’t want that sort of conversation within hearing range of my children or my neighbors.”

  We all proceed to go in and I hear Allana cheerfully talking to our nieces and nephew about their plans. I knew they were going, but feel like in some way, I’m the cause of it being sooner, so it’s actually exciting to hear her rile excitement in their three children. She’s such a breath of fresh air in the insanity we call everyday life. She’s the saving grace to Bruno taking so long coming back. Shortly after he had left, Allana fell pregnant and Bruno was worried to come back. Understandably, but at least Papà had originally accepted her into the family. He loved her like she was his own daughter. Her betrayal hit him quite like mine would. But with her pregnancy progressing, Bruno found it as a way to steer clear until he could promise her utmost safety.

  “Lia’s back!” my nephew Kai chirps up as I go over and ruffle his hair.

  “Uncle Enzo and Carlo are here, too,” I tell him as I sink into a seat beside him.

  I watch him excitedly jump down from his perch on the wooden seat and run over to them. He flings his arms around them and squeezes as tightly as he possibly can. I watch both my brothers transform into these light-hearted individuals who don’t look chinked by the world we’ve lived. They love, cherish, and protect our nephew and his two baby sisters as if they were their own. I just wish my father had an opportunity to see what an amazing life Bruno has made for himself. He has a doting wife, a wonderful son, and identical twin girls. He’s happy and content without having to dabble in mob business. It’s an envious existence he leads.

  “We’ll be out of your hair soon,” Allana says as she grabs some cups to make drinks for us all. “I didn’t realize the time. Mom will be expecting us in ten minutes. They’re just finishing up and then we’ll be good to go.” She turns around and looks at Enzo with a look of utter adoration. “I’ve put a new pot of coffee on. After I heard Enzo’s voice, I thought it was wise.” She gives Enzo a quick wink. “I know how you love your coffee when you come over here.”

  “That’s because you make the best, Allana, what can I say?” he compliments teasingly. “It’s the only reason I come over here.”

  “What about to see me?” Kai asks, still mot having left his uncle’s side. “I’ve got all the best toys ever!”

  Enzo crouches down to pick Kai up. “I’ve got to keep your mamma in my good graces so I get good food out of her.”

  Kai’s face scrunches up then and then he beams with realization. “Food is good!”

  Allana laughs at the bantering between her son and brother-in-law. She then turns, grabs the dirty dishes, and quickly puts them away in the dishwasher before setting down the fresh mugs by the coffee pot. She glances up at the clock and quickly asks Bruno to get the girls into their car seats and out into the car. He promptly obeys while she clears the table with absolute ease. She is the epitome of a domestic goddess. She gets Kai into a pair of shoes and then tells him to go to his father just as Bruno comes back into the house.

  “You know where I am,” she tells me, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before she goes over and gives Enzo and Carlo a kiss on the cheek goodbye. Swiftly, Allana kisses Bruno goodbye and rushes out after Kai with the twins, the door closing behind her.

  Apparently, she knew what was brewing because the moment the car’s driving away and no longer in hearing range, my three brothers begin to speak. Even as Bruno offers coffee, there’s a lot of heatedness going on and pointing the blame at differing people. I listen to them argue, and I cannot help but feel this wedge of guilt penetrate deep within me. They're arguing because I provoked my father. I allowed the evil within him to come out and dabble with his masses. He possessed an opportunity and the idea of one outcome. Had I not mentioned our mother, this would never have turned into a feud.

  "This is my fault." I break into their heated conversation, and they all look at me. "I mentioned Mamma."

  I look at them; feel their eyes look upon me with shades of differing emotion - rage, worry, protectiveness, remembrance. They seem propelled to that same dark day I forced my father back to, and I worry about the fallout.

  I gulp and go back to the beginning of it all. I know Enzo knows, but Bruno is in total darkness over how the Abbiatis run now. "Giovanni wants the job because I'm too deep, but I want this. I need this. This will be my one defining moment to prove myself, but it's not as simple as he seems to think. He can't expect me to kill Zane and be able to just move on."

  "Zane?" Bruno asks, his voice taunt with confused realization. "As in Zane Maverick?" I nod my head and he just grins. "There is hope for you then."

  "No," I say with a laugh of sheer disbelief. "There is no hope for me, Bruno. Last night proved that. This hit will kill me, but I cannot allow Gio or Papà to take this from me. I'll never forgive them for killing him."

  "But you'll forgive yourself for killing him?" Bruno asks and looks at Enzo. "You allowed him to present her with this?"

  "Hey, he blindsided us all with this one, but Amelia took it and said she was able to do it before I even knew his plan." Enzo's livid suddenly, and it's not aimed at me. "Don't complain when you absolved yourself of all responsibilities of looking after our baby sister. Amelia has done enough to save her neck, but even she has a breaking point. She's stronger than you think, but this she can't do. This will break her."

  "I can do this," I mutter, without much conviction.

  "Amelia, you don't have to try to be tough here," Carlo says and comes to crouch before me. “You can admit to us if this is too much. We can figure out a way to get you away from this life.”

  I ponder the thought. I wonder if absolution would be mine if I just admit defeat and hide i
n the shadows like Bruno had. If I walked away from my life, would it take away the demons? I highly fucking doubt it. I’ve been made to do things I’m not proud of and been forced to see things that are burnt so fiercely into my brain that they conjure terror even when I’m not consciously thinking about them. Running away won’t take them away. I’ll carry every memory as if it’s a battle scar.

  “I can’t,” I admit meekly. “He’s my father.” I can feel the weight of their gazes, and I look up at them. They’ve all been in my predicament before. I’m a twenty-three-year-old who has no friends because my father wouldn’t allow it and no family outside of the Abbiati mansion. If I leave, I will be on my own until it’s safe. Unlike Bruno, I have no one to build a future with. Zane is no definite in my life. “This isn’t an easy decision, and I can’t leave Manuel behind.”

  And just like that, I fall into routine with my brothers – only sticking it out to protect those younger than us. They’ve always been like an alliance, and now I understand why and how.

  “We can protect him,” Enzo tries to bargain.

  I shake my head. “He needs me.” It’s not so easy to turn my back on him when I know his darkest secrets. Without me, he knows no comfort. I am it for him, like Enzo is for me.

  “Are you going to be joining us for Amelia’s birthday?” Enzo’s question changes the subject promptly and all attention leaves me and falls onto Bruno. “If you are, you’ll see how he is with her. Then you might be able to talk some more sense into Amelia.”

  “Yes,” Bruno answers without even a single thought. “Is he doing the infamous meal or is it a party?”

  “He’s throwing a grand party, so you can get in and not be seen if that’s what you want,” Carlo offers the option. “We can make sure Papà even never even knows you’re there.”

  Bruno’s lips twist a little with a smirk, and I see his fists clench. “If I’m honest, I want a little word with our baby brother, Giovanni.” Bruno’s face is hooded with so many raging emotions at the thought. Apparently, my comment about Giovanni having a hand in last night’s game doesn’t award him any gold stars. “If he wants to play the devil’s advocate, he’ll have to put up with the wrath of me.”

  My phone goes off and I hesitantly reach into my pocket for it for fear it’ll be my father calling to get me to go home. It causes the room to fall silent, so obviously we’re all waiting for the call of Dio Del Sangue. I’m nowhere near ready for that. I’ve been ignoring every sound out of it all morning, but now I know I need to look. When I glance at the screen of my iPhone, I notice I have three missed calls from my father compared to eight from Zane. His presence on my phone has me screwing my face up as I make sense of it. I notice a few texts and swipe to open them, entering my password to unlock the screen entirely and read the multiple texts I have.

  Hey you, you’ve gone silent in my life again.

  *

  Amelia, give me a chance. What we had we was good. I’ve grown up a lot since the last time we saw each other.

  Give me one date to prove it.

  I can’t help but feel giddiness swirl to life within me, and my heart skips a beat at seeing Zane’s name. Right now, without his death sentence in mind, it’s the best thing I have.

  “What’s that face for?” Carlo asks as he finally leaves from his perch before me.

  “Zane’s texted me and called me a lot.” I look up, trying to resist the blush that is taking over me. I don’t die from the thrill of these things; I take command and allow men to die for the opportunity to have me that way. Men die for me. I don’t die for lust. “He wants to go on a date with me.” As much as the excitement wants to take me over full throttle, I can’t help but panic that if I arrange a date, it’ll be one more step closer to his death.

  Enzo places his coffee down and approaches me. He pulls me up from my seat. “There’s a bag of your clothes in my car. Go take a shower, get dressed, and go on a date with him, Amelia. Allow yourself to be twenty-three and in love, for Christ’s sake.”

  “What about Papà?” I ask warily.

  “Just go and be twenty-three and let me know when you’re coming home. Carlo and I will make sure Papà steers well clear,” he vows, and I feel my rapid heartbeat slow.

  I say nothing but take Ezo’s car keys, leave the house, and pull out my phone to look up the number Zane gave me as I approach Enzo’s yellow and black Camaro. I dial it as I walk down the garden and feel my heart do a ridiCoglioneus dance in my chest. It rings a few times, and I start panic that maybe he won’t answer. I begin to chew my lip with an impending amount of nervous energy.

  “Hello?” he answers, his voice confused. I never gave him my number back and my number shows up as unknown most of the time.

  A small smile begins to appear on my lips. “Hey, it’s me.”

  I hear a small chuckle down the line. “Amelia, Amelia, Amelia Abbiati.”

  It’s amazing that just hearing him say my name offers me more salvation than any other deed my brothers could have done. With that, I decide to bite the bullet and live a little for myself – not my father.

  “How do want to meet up?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  I had to wait for Zane to finish his shift before he called to tell me a place. He’d told me he had been at the golf club on The Chelsea Pier by the Hudson River for an hour and had no plans on leaving, so that would be probably be my best bet.

  His normal cheerfulness and tease was vacant from his voice, and I find myself wondering what’s happened today to have him at a golfing range. When we were together, he would always come here when we had an argument or one of the men on his squad got hurt. Zane might strive to be one of Manhattan’s finest detectives, but his heart causes a lot of pain for him in the long run. His compassion is one that saw him rank high at such a young age and his ferocity to do only good put him in good standing.

  As I enter, armed with my own golfing card ready to join him, I look down at the multiple emptying spaces for golfers to spend time perfecting their swing. I spot Zane a little way down the range and watch for a moment as he twists his body to take another swing at the awaiting golf ball. He’s dressed in loose jeans, black combat boots, and a tight, grey t-shirt. When he takes a swing and the ball propels out at rocket speed, I take that as my opportunity to approach him.

  “Hey, Detective Maverick,” I call out to Zane as he awaits to take another swing.

  He stumbles as the golf club comes down, and I giggle as he tries to right himself. He quickly tries to gather his bearings and makes a short attempt at acting suave and gracious. I give him a small grin and continue my approach.

  “Well, I never thought you’d actually make it,” he comments wryly and goes back to his game.

  “Why’s that?” I ask as I close the distance to us.

  He abandons his next hit and turns to face me. “I thought Daddy Abbiati would have you on lock and key from the big bad wolf.”

  “Ahh, what Daddy doesn’t know, doesn’t hurt him,” I teasingly remark and go over to his golf bag to try to find my favorite club. “We’ve hit a rough patch, so I’m all for rebellion.”

  “Want to talk about it?” he asks as he comes over. I shake my head, but don’t look up at him. “You’ll want this one.” He passes over the club he’s been using, and I’m shocked that he now uses it. It was also the club he abandoned and dubbed his fail stick. It’s why I personally took it upon myself to use it. “It became my favorite after I left.” He shrugs and pulls another club from his bag and goes back to the tee with a ball sitting ready. He readies himself, getting his body positioned correctly, and he takes a swing. “I never was good with that club anyway.”

  “Yet you still use it?” I ask out of sheer curiosity.

  “I’m a masochist at times,” Zane comments dryly and offers a small smirk. “What can I say, Amelia, some reminders are just worth keeping.” He places a new ball down and takes a swing and I watch the ball fly away with great speed and see it hit the far en
d. “Yup, should never have given up my old faithful.” He throws the club away from his palm, spinning it in the air as he does so before catching it gracefully.

  Apparently, he never lost his ability to show off.

  As I stand on the sidelines, I look around and notice we’re all alone – the last stragglers are leaving. I know it was late when Zane sent me a text, but I never expected it to have gotten to closing before I made it out here.

  “I know the owner,” Zane comments, and I look back. “He leaves it open for me when I’ve worked long shifts. I just leave the key with security, and we’re good. It’s been a long day.” He uses all the stress he’d been under today to apply the right force behind his swing to push the ball through the air. When it hits the far netted wall, he fist pumps the air with a high sense of achievement. “Fuck yes!”

  I watch as he parades his success at hitting a second ball long distance. Everything in my life falls away but my every lasting thought of him as I keep my eyes trained on him. He is everything to me and I don’t need to test the waters or think long and hard. I just know. I’m consumed with the look on his face and wonder how I allowed myself to be so consumed so quickly. We’re still the same people we were before – he, the perfect detective, who could lock me away at any time, and I was always loving this man and killing others before. But why is this different? Why do I have such a conscience now?

  And I have to guess that it’s only because I’m older and more aware of what I once had. I don’t know a lot about it, but I know my love for Zane was real. After all, he’s my better half. That idealistic soul mate that we all sit waiting for.

  Zane Maverick – my harsh, foul mouthed, handsome love of my life.

  If I pushed, he’d pull. If I shouted, he’d shout back. It was how we worked, how we loved, how we hit the self-destruct button. We both were fighting for the same thing, but in separate ways. He wanted my freedom from my family; I wanted it, too, but without breaking away from them. Apparently, that was my fatal error.