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Omerta- Part Two

Page 32

by Sienna Mynx


  “Months ago. Over there,” she pointed to the woods. “You saw me before all of this happened. You saw me come here in the night with men who had guns on me. I didn’t care then; do you really think I’m going to leave him because you have that gun on me now?”

  Rolando lowered the gun. “I did. I was scared to tell him that it was me who saw you. Not Ernesto. I knew it would make him crazy. I should have never told him. Maybe if I hadn’t he wouldn’t have killed... he wouldn’t have moved to Napoli and taken her there, for that man to kill her. He’s not good lady. It’s not good for you to be here.”

  “I know,” she said. “I know he’s bad, and I know I did it to him. Me, the Battaglias, Lorenzo, even Adara. All of us.”

  The boy nodded in agreement.

  “I let them scare me away before. I’m not doing it again. I’m going to help him. I’m willing to risk everything to try.”

  Rolando looked to the boys who had all wandered in closer. Everyone waited for him to lead them and make a decision. That was a heavy responsibility for someone so young. Shae tried to unburden him.

  “Tell your boys to keep their eyes and weapons trained on the car that brought me in. They can’t be trusted. Give me thirty minutes. Then come in and get answers. If Carlo wants me to leave you make sure I do. Only thirty-minutes. Agree?”

  Rolando nodded. He spoke to the others in Italian and they all nodded in agreement. He then stepped back and opened the door. She let go a deep breath for bravery and stepped inside. The first to greet her was the rancid stench of the place. Spoiled food in half eaten take out cartons was strewn everywhere. As was empty bottles and other trash. Shae put her hand to her mouth and nose. There were no lights on inside and the windows were drawn shut with shutters closed. She walked over to the lamp and tried to turn on the switch but found that it did not work. Shae tried the switch on the wall and discovered there was no electricity in his place. She cautiously avoided trash as she walked from the front door and through the kitchen. The fridge was wide open. This too allowed the food to spoil. It must have been that way for days. And the garbage cans were not emptied. She suppressed the urge to puke.

  How long had she romanticized their reunion? Her Italian tough-guy would be waiting for her in his expensive tailored suit smelling like wealth and danger. He’d take her into his arms and tell her he forgave her. That would not be the man she found today. Shae glanced to the bedroom door. It was closed. She feared what waited behind that door. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking the very worse.

  “Enough of this.”

  Shae went to the door.

  She knocked twice.

  No answer.

  Shae put her ear to the door and listened for movement. There was none. She feared the door would be locked as well but it wasn’t. Shae cautiously pushed it open. The darkness was deeper inside. Her vision had to adjust before she entered. At first she didn’t see anything or anyone. She swept the scene twice. She pushed the door open wider. The bedsheets were ripped from the edges of the bed and pillows were on the floor. She went inside and again tried the light switch to discover it wasn’t working.

  “Carlo?” she said softly.

  He wasn’t there.

  She went to the bathroom. She half expected to find the worst. The bathroom was a horror. The mirror was smashed and shards of glass (some of it stained in blood) filled the sink. The tub had standing water in it and clothes in it. That made no sense. The toilet hadn’t been flushed. Shae covered her nose and flushed it.

  When she did she heard groaning. She looked back to the room. Where had it come from? Shae walked into the room and saw the same thing she saw when she arrived. She tried the closet and found he wasn’t in it. Confused Shae walked around the bed. The mystery was solved. On the floor in nothing but his boxers lay Carlo flat to his face.

  Shae went to her knees and checked him for signs of life. He was definitely breathing. There was a pipe next to him and many cast aside beer bottles. Shae reached for the pipe and sniffed it. It smelled like marijuana. She’d heard from the lawyers that it was suspected Carlo was using narcotics. Though this wasn’t a hundred percent proof against the accusation, it gave her hope. She ran her hand up his calf to his thigh. He didn’t move. He did respond with a loud snore.

  “What happened here?”

  No answer.

  “It’s okay sweetheart. Rest. I’ll figure it out.”

  Shae pushed up from the floor. It would take her more than an hour to get the place in order. She needed help. The door to the front of the villa opened and she knew it was Rolando. She walked out of the bedroom to find him looking around in concern. It was apparent he hadn’t entered the villa in days.

  “I need to speak to the lady in the car outside.”

  “Is he... okay?” Rolando asked.

  “He will be. But I might need your help. Bring her to me and get me four of your best boys.” Shae put her hands to her hips. “This place... is terrible. I can’t bring my baby here, not to see him like this.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “No. No he’s not. He’s drunk, but he’ll wake and I need to be ready for him when he does.”

  Rolando smiled. “He calls you his pink lady. I’m glad you came back to help him.”

  Shae almost let her tears go as well. “I am too.”

  Rolando went and fetched the woman who brought her there. Shae found garbage bags and began collecting trash. When her Battaglia escort walked in she stopped and faced her. The woman didn’t seem shocked by the state of things. Therefore, Shae didn’t feel compelled to explain.

  “I need you to collect my children and take them back to the hotel. I want a guard outside of their door and a person to provide anything Jilly needs.”

  “Arielle is a good host,” the woman said.

  “I don’t care. I don’t know her and I was okay with that, until I saw this. I can’t bring the children here now. I don’t want them to stay the night with her. Can you do this. My daughter will need to call me and tell me that she is safe before I give you any updates on Carlo.”

  The woman nodded. “Should she call here?”

  Shae nodded.

  “In the morning, around ten, I want you to bring them here. Both of them.”

  The woman’s brow arched. “Is Carlo in agreement?”

  “He will be. Do you understand my request?”

  “I am told to make this happen without incident. But you’re asking me to leave you here for the night. I don’t recommend that we do that. I can’t guarantee your safety. These children he keep on his land are dangerous.”

  “You have no choice. Please see to it.”

  The woman gave her a curt nod. “I will see to it. Good luck, signorina .”

  “I won’t need it.” Shae assured her. The woman left as the boys arrived. Rolando translated for her. They had to be quick and they had to be quiet. The kids went straight to work.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Facing the Truth

  Sorrento, Italy

  THE BURN IN HIS THROAT spread all the way to his empty gut. Carlo flipped over to his back and belched. He scratched his belly and stared up at the ceiling. His brain and body was numb. He’d been on a drinking binge for two days straight so it was to be expected. The alcohol and weed made him disappear. It was a welcomed change.

  Carlo sniffed. He sniffed the air again. He frowned. The stench of hell had passed. He smelled ammonia. Slowly he sat up and the moment he did his vision of the room swam in blurred waves. He put both hands up to his head and tried to stop the dizzying spiral. However, the pain slashing through his skull struck him with unyielding force. He could feel his strength collapsing.

  After a few deep swallows he managed to open his eyes and regain focus. The first thing he noticed was the blanket that covered him. He looked down at his knees confused by its warmth and protection. He’d had plenty of black out drunk moments since the funeral but never did he experience one where he covered himself for m
odesty. He snatched the blanket off his legs. He reached for his bottle of vodka that was near him when he flipped off the bed to the floor. It was suddenly gone. Also gone were his beer bottles and smoking pipe. He pushed up and noticed the clean state of his room, which included a bed made with fresh linens he hadn’t seen in months. Carlo swayed as he stared at the empty bed. He sniffed again. The strong aroma of cleansing came from the bathroom. He walked into the bathroom and flipped the light switch. There was no power. “Shit,” he groaned. The electric company had threatened to do it. He wondered how long the power had been shut off. And who the fuck came by his place and cleaned it? Then he knew. There was only one person who would.

  “Rolando,” he grunted.

  He’d told the runt to stay out of his house if he wasn’t delivering his booze or his weed. He’d slap him around good for disobeying him before. Still the kid took his anger in stride and returned the very next day. Carlo staggered into the bathroom cursing and belching. He was weak from exhaustion. He barely made it to the toilet when he puked his alcohol lunch into the porcelain bowl. He didn’t bother to flush. He went to the sink and rinsed his mouth hard. The taste of bile and alcohol would only make him retch. He gargled down his mouth wash and rinsed again. He then drank from the tap to hydrate. He had a thirst so deep he nearly choked on his own swallows.

  Once he was done he staggered out of the bathroom and went over to the closet. In the back of it was his crate. A gift from the Russians. He reached in and pulled out another bottle of vodka. He unscrewed the cap with his teeth and chugged down hard liquor. Three big swallows and the bottle was nearly half empty. Carlo let go another gut wrenching belch. He turned to the bed and flopped back down. He drank again but the burn of the alcohol triggered a gag that forced him to stop. It didn’t matter. He felt numb again. He dropped the bottle on his dresser and collapsed back into his welcomed stupor. His slip into darkness was swift and he welcomed it.

  Shae heard the movement in the bedroom. She froze mid-step at the sound of him. Her heart beat so fast she was paralyzed with indecision. He coughed, and gagged. Then she heard his hard footsteps. She braced for his emergence. It sounded like he went inside the bathroom. Shae walked over to the door and pressed her ear against the wood surface. She listened. He was retching and then the water in the sink was on. He cursed in Italian and footfalls left the bathroom to reenter his room. She heard some shuffling and belching. Shae backed away from the door. Should she just walk in and force the conversation? The lawyers confirmed that Carlo knew about the baby. How could he know they had a child together and never try to contact her? It wasn’t like the man she loved to walk away from being a father. It broke her heart that he chose another woman and child over her and her baby. She put her hands to her head and worked again on being less selfish. She wasn’t here for her. She was here for him. That had to be her sole focus.

  Then silence.

  She waited. Time passed.

  Nothing.

  Her hand went to the knob and she slowly turned it. Shae held her breath. Maybe she should wait outside of his room on the sofa. Maybe she should make him a sandwich with the deli meat and bread Rolando brought to the house? She wasn’t sure. What she wanted to do more than anything was see him. Be with him. But how?

  She pushed the door open again. Carlo lay in bed. He was already snoring. She remembered a few times when he was blackout drunk after Ciro died. He’d have only a few wakeful moments before returning to his deep sleep state once more. It was the only way his broken heart repaired itself.

  With her heart in her throat she approached the bed. Carlo lay there on his side. He’d stepped out of his boxer shorts. They were on the floor. He left the blanket she found for him on the floor. Did he notice the room’s clean state?

  Apparently nothing had fazed him. She turned to leave again but paused. The only reunion her man would understand was one she gave him. No matter his crime she wanted to put a stop to his never-ending torment. She picked up the blanket from the floor and got in bed with him. She made them both comfortable before moving in close to him. Her touch did nothing. He snored as if she weren’t there. She put her hand on his back and took comfort that he was still breathing. She’d stay by his side until he was ready to rejoin the living.

  Deep within his sleep Carlo inhaled a rich yet sweet flagrance. What was it? The odor reminded him of a rose bush that bloomed in a bushes of strawberries. Did that exist? Whatever the fragrance was didn’t really matter. What mattered most was the way the familiar smell comforted her. He turned over and wanted more. And he found it. The warmth of his woman’s body. With his eyes closed he ran his hand from her hip and down her thigh. Carlo pulled her closer. This was the best part of his drunken state. The power to conjure her from the ashes of her grave and return her to his arms. When his eyes opened he wasn’t, however, looking into Adara’s. This time he was visited by Shae. He felt no guilt or regret for his elation. Since Africa he’d conjured his lovers in the same order. He kissed Shae’s nose and her forehead, lick Shae’s pussy and slip into her only to have her turn into Adara. It was always the same.

  “Carlo?” Shae spoke.

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t want an imaginary conversation. He didn’t need it anymore. And he didn’t know how long he would have Shae this time, but he intended to hold on to her for as long as he could. His mouth found hers and his tongue slipped in silencing her protests. Carlo’s lids fluttered shut at the taste of her. It felt real. She tasted real. The one thing he missed in the dazed throws of his delusions was the smell and taste of Shae. He remembered the sweet soft feel of her thick thighs and round ass cheeks when he’d put her in his favorite position. He squeezed them with both hands as he parted her thighs. Carlo’s tongue slipped out of her mouth to lick her throat. He ripped open the front of her dress. He found her pierced nipple and sucked it as his hands clawed at the thin lace panty ripping it away. Everything happened too fast. He eased into her and lost control. He held her down as hard as he could as he pumped his hips and pushed his love in and out of her until he collapsed half awake and half-drunk on top of her.

  Shae froze. What transpired happened before she could do or say anything to encourage it. And when it didn’t finish, when he collapsed drunk on top of her she wept. She pushed him off her and escaped the bed. She went into the bathroom and closed the door. With her back against it she let go her own inner torment. Did he even know it was her? Did he think he was with Adara the entire time? What was she doing? Why didn’t she ask him to stop, wake him, anything? Why was she there? She put her hands to her head and forced down her own personal demons. The ones that made her a pariah to any social circle she wanted to join after escaping her sordid past in Chicago and Las Vegas. She was different now, and he was supposed to see that.

  Frozen with conflict and desperation Shae couldn’t bring herself to return to the room. To hear that he thought he was making love to his dead wife. To hear him reject her like everyone she ever loved had done before. She waited for her fear to pass.

  The stench from the toilet made her gag. She flushed it and closed the lid. She went to the sink and splashed water on her face. Carlo ripped the front of her summer dress as a man would a shirt from his chest. It split all the way down to her navel. She stared at herself for a long moment and faced the hard facts. Before this was all over she may lose her soul.

  After an hour in the bathroom Shae found her strength again. When she returned to the room, Carlo was snoring. Shae picked up the bottle of vodka and carried it to the trash. She grabbed a chair from the kitchen and bought it back to the room. There she sat with her arms crossed. She sat and she waited. She would not make the same mistake she made before. This time she would wait and the next time he opened his eyes he would face her.

  CARLO YAWNED AND TURNED over from his side to his back. He was slow to open his eyes but they opened. His room was dark except for the fading light from his window. He rubbed his eyes and suffered a severe cramp to his g
ut. He winced.

  “Vodka for dinner might help.”

  His vision shot left. Seated in a chair glaring at him was Shae. He blinked and then blinked again. She never looked away. She never disappeared. It was her.

  “Surprised?”

  “Shae?” he said and lifted on his elbows.

  “It’s me. It’s not a dream. It’s not a nightmare, or whatever hell you’re having these days.”

  “What?”

  “What am I doing here? Is that what you have to ask me? You just realizing I’m here?” She wiped at her tears. “Who do you think that was in bed with you?”

  Carlo glanced to the empty side of the bed and then to her. He wasn’t sure what she meant. He closed his eyes and squeezed them tightly shut. He expected to find himself alone when he opened them. But she was still there. His Shae was sitting before him. If she was there, then that meant he was awake.

  “Baby?” Carlo asked.

  “Which one. Yours or ours? Because you don’t seem to be interested in either.”

  “How did you get in here?”

  The question broke through her cool disgust. Shae wept. He sat up but made no move to comfort her. He had no right. The front of her dressed was ripped. Did he do that? When did he do that? What the hell had happened? She wiped at her tears and sniffed. “I get it okay. You lost your wife. And the way she died... they told me. I feel horrible that I’m even here in her house. I didn’t come back here to disrespect what you two had... but what about us! Me? Do you even remember what we had?”

  “You?” Carlo narrowed his eyes on her. “You told me you didn’t want me. I remember that.”

  “I only said—”

  “You said let you go!” he shouted her down. She fell silent. “And I tried. I fucking tried!”

  “I know you did. I’m sorry.”

  “Gio sent you? What does he want? I’m waiting to die and he sends you? Forget it. Tell him it’s not going to work. He can’t use me to—”

 

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