Blood and Secrets 2_The Calvetti Crime Family

by Rose Harper

  As much as I want to freak right now, thanks to these new emotions racing through me, I know I have to appear as stoic as possible so Mateo will feed off my calmness.

  “The shooter is dead. About fifty paces northwest. Get them and bring them here.” I order, dropping to my knees beside Mateo. Thunderous footfalls race off at my command, thankfully.

  I have no idea what I’m doing here. This is all new to me; new to the person I’ve been since my own brother died. I’m not one for consoling those that lose someone because more times than not, I’m the person that took them to begin with. However, something inside of me guides my hand to Mateo’s. It’s a soft voice filled with warmth and love.

  “Mateo,” I whisper, my heart clawing at the back of my ribs when his tear-streaked face tilts up, his red rimmed eyes meeting mine. “Lay him down on his side, please.” When he doesn’t make a move to do as I say, I lean toward him, disregarding the growl that rumbles through his chest. He’s a man on the edge, and if I’m going to help, I need him to trust me.

  It’s hard when I can’t even trust myself at this moment.

  “Please,” I coax in a soft voice. “I’m going to see how bad it is.”

  Unblinking, he continues to stare at me. “Fix him.”

  “I’ll try,” I whisper past the lump in my throat.

  Gently, he lays Vinny down on his side with the bullet holes facing upward. Leaning forward, I feel for the knife Mateo keeps strapped on him, jolting in shock when Mateo’s unforgiving hand lands on mine, clenching tightly.

  “If you hurt him worse, I’ll kill you myself.”

  I nod, and he releases my hand. Grabbing the knife, I flick it open and make quick work of Vinny’s shirt, then push it out of the way so I can inspect the wounds. My lips curl in distaste when I notice the wounds. Only one kind of bullet can leave a mark like this.

  A man killer.

  There’s no way I’ll be able to save Vinny. No way I’ll be able to keep my unspoken promise. His guts will be nothing but shreds of meat and muscle by the time that bullet is through with its course.

  Hotness I’ve never felt before slides down the side of my face as my emotions live and breathe over my features for all to see. There’s no helping Vinny. The only thing we can do is be with him until he draws his final breath.

  “Mateo,” I force out, feeling my soul break inside of me. “There’s nothing that can be done. They shot to kill. I’m so sorry.”

  “Goddammit! Carina, save him!” he cries out.

  “I-I can’t.” There’s never been a time in my life since my brother died that I’ve felt this helpless. It’s an emotion I know all too well. A feeling I wish would stay buried deep for no one to see. Mateo doesn’t need me to fall apart right now. He needs me to be strong.

  Cradling him in his lap, Mateo starts rocking back and forth, running his fingers over Vinny’s quickly paling face. “I’m so sorry!” he cries out, sobbing. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you!”

  It feels like a storm cloud slowly sliding over me as everything envelopes me in darkness. I have no idea how to process the number of emotions I’m forced to endure. It feels like I’m short-circuiting, and the only thing that can make me better is getting away from Mateo so I can seal this leak inside of me once and for all.

  As I make to leave, a hand clasps around my wrist, freezing me on the spot. It’s clammy, cold, and slippery, so it causes me to take notice and not fight against it. Glancing down, Vinny’s unfocused eyes meet mine, causing a sob I didn’t even know I was holding back to climb up my throat.

  I didn’t know him like the rest of them here, but during all of this, I proclaimed my protection on them all—Vinny included. Losing him is like losing my brother all over again, even though I was never close to him.

  Gasping, his body shudders in Mateo’s lap as he fights to catch his breath. “It … It is our … darkest moments …” he forces out, wheezing harsher. “That we must focus … to see … the … light.”

  It can’t be! There’s no way.

  My eyes round in disbelief as Vinny’s hand falls away from my wrist. His words play in my mind over and over again, burrowing themselves even deeper than before.

  There’s only one person who’s ever said those words to me. One person who took the time to worry about me and check to make sure that everything was okay.

  How can Vinny know what my brother used to say to me every night before ending his calls? The soft words he used to utter to make everything seem right in the world.

  9

  MATEO

  My eyes never drift away from Ricco, our familia’s cleaner, as he wraps a white sheet around my brother’s prone body. My soul feels like it’s splintered into a thousand pieces, each shard pricking a vital organ and causing them to bleed out while he deftly tucks the corners under Vinny.

  Losing Vinny is the equivalent of losing my own son if I were to have one. I raised him from the time our mother died until he was eighteen. He was just a small lad when our mother was taken away from us. Her absence didn’t affect him like it does Gavino and me. We were there, sitting underneath a worn-down table in our familia’s kitchen as we saw the whole thing go down.

  Witnessing the death of our mother left us with scars only we could heal. Now, a different wound has opened up inside my chest, screaming over the loss of the one who was the purist of us all.

  Vinny was too young for it to end like this, and it’s all my fault. Every goddamn thing that’s happened to us all is because I didn’t make a move when the ball was firmly in my court. Instead, I wasted time worrying over a slit that doesn’t even deserve a second glance.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Teo. You can’t blame this on Carina. She did everything she could to save him.”

  “Yet,” I growl, turning my attention to Dom. “It still wasn’t enough. She still let this family down. She’s supposed to be Reap, goddammit. Where’re her flashy training skills now?”

  “You cannot blame her for this. She was the only one clear-headed enough to go after the shooter while we were all stuck in a daze watching him die,” Dom whispers. The anguish in his words can be heard from an eternity away.

  I break my stare down with Dom to look over at Vinny’s prone figure, fighting the emotions barreling through me. Anger over someone doing this to one of my blood. Sadness that I’ll never be able to laugh at Vinny’s antics. And worry … because it feels like this is only the beginning.

  He’ll never be able to grow old. Never be able to have a familia of his own. He won’t be able to do anything, because within a few hours, he will be lying cold in our familia’s resting place. Buried like a thief in the night, per our father’s request.

  Goddamn him and his motherfucking image he’s trying to protect. All of us know what he’s doing is wrong, but we can do nothing to change it. That’s not how it works in this world, and since Vinny has no wife and no kids, our father gets to choose what happens to him. Fucking bullshit if you ask me. He wasn’t even there when we were growing up, so he shouldn’t have a say so now how we honor his memory.

  “Don’t. I know you’re trying to make excuses for her, but just don’t do it. She’s had more training than a goddamn doctor in the ER, she should have been able to save him.”

  “With what, Mateo? She had nothing here to use. You can’t expect her to use a piece of glass and our shoe strings to tidy up the mess those bullets made. They were man killers. We were inept to deal with a situation like this. No one has ever had balls big enough to shoot up your house before.”

  I know I’m being unreasonable, and I’d like to say I care, but I’m too lost in my grief. The only thing I remember is the desolate look in her eyes when they connected with mine. The finality I saw in them as I rocked my brother as he knocked on death’s door.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Dom. Apparently, there’s someone out there that has the balls to do this, or my brother wouldn’t be dead right now. Did they even find anything when t
hey went to search the grounds?”

  Shaking his head, he regards me with a stoic mask. “No. They followed the blood trail all the way to the main road about a mile from here. It just ends where tire tracks begin. They found nothing but the blood. We’ve been scouring for hours.”

  “Goddammit!”

  “Well, what do we do now?” he asks.

  Heaving a sigh, I pinch the bridge of my nose to stave off another blasted headache trying to form. “We retire for the night. I’m too fucked to be any good.”

  Shaking my head, I give one last look toward Ricco and Vinny before making my way up the stairs. Passing by the shattered windows, another reminder of what happened tonight, my heart breaks even more. No matter how hard I try to refrain, a stray tear leaks from my eye, trekking all the way down my face to drip onto the carpet.

  Nothing will ever be the same again. All the progress I’ve made over the years? That’s long gone. I steadily feel myself spiraling out of control, uncaring where I end up. Only that I hope it ends with revenge and retribution for the brother that was taken too soon.

  Running my hand over my face, I wearily swipe over it as my jaw clenches in irritation. “No one will come out of this alive once I’m through. I will avenge you, brother. This, I promise.”

  Making my way to my room, I shoulder the door open, before slamming it shut once more. Leaning back, all fight leaves me. Sliding down to the floor, I allow every bit of my agony to rise to the surface. Tears flow down my face as memories of our lives play out before me. My chest aches from the pain tearing through me. We had forever; now all we have is what ifs.

  I can’t show weakness in front of anyone, but right now, there’s no stopping it. It hurts to fucking breathe.

  I’ve heard my whole life I would grow up to be someone who will never be phased with a simple death. That I would shrug it off like it was a natural occurrence. However, all of my grooming to take my father’s seat didn’t prepare me for this.

  Nothing prepared me for the pain I feel inside; the pain that’s broken everything inside of me I’ve been trying to fix for so long.

  They say a cold, dead heart never feels any pain, but what they don’t tell you is the fact it can be freed from its dark confines. That it can start feeling once more, even when you don’t notice.

  Like I said before … it’s all her goddamn fault.

  Every single bit of it.

  10

  CARINA

  “Hey, do you know where Mateo is?” I ask when I bump into Gavino in the hall outside my room.

  He lifts his soulless eyes to mine, and it takes everything inside me not to flinch from the effect it has on me. “No.” His voice is just as soulless, if not more. “Ask Dom.”

  Shuddering, I watch as he walks away. I’ve never met anyone like Gavino before, and that’s saying something because I’ve met a shit load of people just as bad as him, if not worse. Still, something tells me there’s a whole story there I’m missing. With the scars lining his face, arms, and hands—there’s definitely a story. One I’m not privy to.

  Making my way down the hall, I come to a stop in front of Dom’s door. Raising my hand, I hesitate to knock for reasons unbeknownst to me. It feels like since I got everything back that intruding on him in his own domain would be an overstep on my part.

  Yes, I don’t give a fuck about anything, but Dom’s never done anything to me to warrant such disrespect. I may be a psychopathic killer, but I’m not a disrespectful cunt.

  Still, this is important. Something is nagging at the back of my mind, telling me I should get to Mateo. I’ve never had this type of feeling before, but I know to always go with my gut. It’s never led me wrong before, and I don’t believe it would start now.

  Inhaling, I lightly knock twice and wait patiently. When I don’t get an answer, I rap my knuckles against the warm, solid wood once more.

  When I still don’t get an answer, I close my eyes to heighten my other senses. I try to tap into the sound of his feet walking across the floor or his breathing. The longer I stand there, the more apparent it becomes he’s not inside. Instead, he’s probably roaming the house like the rest of the men here.

  I can’t say I blame them, either. Sleeping would be hard to do after losing one of their own.

  No. One of our own.

  I’m not really sure when my perception of my situation changed, but it did. I consider them mine, and I feel shitty because I’m supposed to protect what’s mine. Yet, I let Vinny’s life slip right between my fingers.

  I was so angry at the prospect of Mateo marrying Camille, hated him for what he was making me feel when I didn’t want to feel anything. But Vinny, he gave me the tough love I needed. Without using so many words, he was in complete contrast to the others who are still here.

  And, the words he uttered before shutting his eyes for the last time solidified my snap judgement. There’s no way I could take out anyone in this home, knowing someone had a direct connection with my brother. If Luca was connected with the Calvettis that live in this house, they couldn’t be bad. There’s no way any of them could warrant the contract placed on their leader’s head.

  Just the thought of being given this assignment by my father before they killed him makes me sick to my stomach. I should have been strong enough not to listen to him; should have been strong enough to overcome the pull he had on me after he forced me to slice my brother’s throat. But, if anything, that catalyst made me delve deeper into the world of blood and secrets.

  It made me lose myself and my freedom.

  Freedom I’m going to take back starting right now.

  Placing my hand flat on his door, I will my strength through the wood to give him as much solace as it can, before turning away, allowing my hand to slide off the door as I continue on my path down the hallway.

  My skin starts feeling like creepy crawlies are slithering across its cold, clammy surface as I grow closer and closer to the place where Vinny drew his last breath. I’d give anything to never see that spot again. It’s not that I have an aversion to seeing bloodshed, but that it was Vinny’s blood that was shed.

  However, as I’m passing Mateo’s room, I hear a slight clink of a glass that draws my attention. Stopping mid-step, I slowly come up to his door, pressing my ear against the unforgiving wood. Closing my eyes, I again train my other senses to reach out to the person on the other side. I can practically feel the pain slice through me from here.

  Molding my body to the door, I press myself against it harder. When my emotions start buzzing out of control, I know it’s Mateo on the other side and not someone else. And when I hear a quiet sob reverberating off the walls, my heart breaks in my chest.

  I’ve never seen Mateo this distraught. I haven’t known him that long, but still, he doesn’t seem like the type of person to allow anyone to see his true emotions. More times than not, he’s either stoic in appearance or pissed. There is no other emotion.

  Flicking my eyes open, I gently knock, not expecting him to answer me. Something tells me I should just leave him to grieve in peace, but another part of me is clawing at the back of my skull to at least check on him. Be there for him as much as a person like me can be.

  “Come in.” His rough, sorrow wracked voice sounds through the door.

  Without missing a beat, I grip the door knob, twisting it open. Slowly opening the door, an orange glow and warmth flow through the crack, warming my cool body. Making myself as small as I can, I look down both ends of the hallway before slipping inside, closing it firmly behind me. All at once, the light from the hall is shut out as I fall into near darkness.

  Peering through the room, I spot Mateo next to a roaring fire, bracing his hands on the mantle as a crisp, cool glass full of dull brown liquid sits just atop. He’s mesmerized by the fire, never once looking at me, even when I gather enough courage to push away from my spot near the wall and walk further into the room.

  I see his shoulders expand, hear him inhale as a shudder races t
hrough him. “What do you want, Carina?”

  Not knowing how much I should speak, risk breaking the silence of his room, I say just as little as possible. “Wanted to check on you.”

  “You—check on me?” He gives an emotionless laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “See what day?” I ask, confused.

  Lifting the tumbler off the mantle, he swallows half of it in one go. “The day a psychotic bitch with no emotions tried to console me. Goddamn, how the mighty have fallen.”

  “Don’t say that,” I reply, taking a step forward with my arm outstretched, before thinking better of it and allowing it to fall back to my side.

  “Say what?” he asks, finally turning to face me, his face shrouded in darkness. “That you’re a psychotic bitch or that I’ve fallen?”

  “Fallen,” is all I say.

  “It’s true.”

  “No. It isn’t.” I don’t know where this type of conviction is coming from, but I’m just going to roll with it. “You have a right to grieve a loss. Just like I have the right to feel. It’s just neither one of us know how because we were never given a chance to.”

  “We’re so fucked up,” he replies, devastated. “I should hate you—loathe the very thought of you. But, I find I’m incapable of such a feat. I’m capable of everything when it comes to you—except hate.”

  “No,” I reply, licking my lips. “We’re broken. There’s a difference.”

  Draining the rest of the contents in his tumbler, he doesn’t look back as he tosses it into the fire. The flames engulf it within a matter of seconds, shooting sparks outward from the remnants of alcohol still left in the glass as if thanking Mateo for feeding its frenzy. But I can’t be bothered as my eyes are captivated by the broken soul right in front of me.