Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4)
Page 38
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I still remember seeing her with the evidence of what I'd done. The fact that I could have easily killed her had nearly destroyed me. For the first time in my life, I'd known real fear at the prospect of her gone. It had been like the worst hit to the chest, my mind fogging, my entire being racked with the worst pain I'd ever felt.
My fingers tighten over her hair as I hold it near, the only thing that seems to calm me these days.
"You selfishly don't love her but you unselfishly let her go to protect her, even though it's killing you inside," Vanya says shaking her head at me. "If that's not love..." she trails off and I lift my eyes to look at her.
"You, my brother, are a moron," she states, exasperated. "You're putting her welfare above your own! That's the very definition of love!"
"And how would you know?" I ask, rather peeved.
"Because that's what you did for me too!" she screams at me.
I look at her dumbfounded, wholly shocked at her outburst.
"You love her, you just don't know how to love. There's a difference," she points out.
"But how can I love if I don't know how?" I ask brokenly.
I just want her... I've only ever wanted her.
"You just do what other people do. Take care of her, shower her with attention, show her she is the only one for you."
"But she is!" I blurt out.
"Brother mine, sometimes I wonder how we're related. You're an idiot of the biggest proportions. You have to show her! Hell, she probably hates you right now for the last time. For abandoning her so ruthlessly."
"But I had to..." I say weakly, images of her poor battered body still haunting my mind.
"You didn't have to! You just ran at the first sight that things were getting slightly more complicated. You never even thought of getting help instead of throwing her away."
"I did... and look where it got me. I killed the damned psychiatrist." I look away, the flashbacks I'd recovered from that session still a sore subject. Especially as I look at my sister...
"And only because of her!" Vanya throws her hands up, exasperated. "You tried once and you gave up. Come on, Vlad. There have to be more ways," she tells me. "I don't understand how you can be so smart when it comes to everyone else, but so dumb when it comes to your own damned self," she says angrily, and I purse my lips, her words not unwarranted.
"What more can I do, V? I'm afraid to even place myself in the same ten mile radius of her, knowing that if she's even remotely close then I'll rush over to her and..." my breath hitches, "I'll hurt her again."
It's why I'm sending Seth to check up on her. I'd never be able to stop myself from going to her if I knew she was near.
"You need to do something about your episodes. That's the only way," she tells me.
I'm quiet for a moment, the mere prospect of having Sisi in my life again filling me with something akin to happiness. Not that I know what happiness is, but I expect it's something like what her presence does to me.
But before I can do that I need to get myself under control.
Try harder.
Damn, but I'd do anything as long as I could ensure I'm not a danger to her. I'm just out of ideas.
"Fine," I agree. "You may be right. But how do I fix it? She seemed so desolate when I told her..." Even if I do manage to get my episodes under control, I doubt she'd forgive me so easily. I don't even want to remember the words I'd spewed at her, the lies I'd purposefully told her to hurt her.
I'd wanted to drive her as far away from me as possible, and I'd succeeded.
"You go to her and you beg for forgiveness. You'll be lucky if she gives it to you," Vanya raises an eyebrow at me, and I can tell she's on Sisi's side.
As much as I'd like to argue with her, she's right.
I got scared and I threw everything away. I should have fought harder, tried harder. After all, Sisi is the one person in this world who would not have reviled me for my episode.
But in my defense, I'd never felt such fear as I did when I saw what I'd done to her. Hell, I'd never felt fear before at all. I'd been ready to ask her to fucking put me out of my misery. I'd been fucking terrified of doing more... of killing her. Because a world without Sisi is not a world I want to live in.
"You're right," I take a deep breath, finally ready to face my demons. "I have to. Because I think I do love her," I admit, my lips trembling as I utter the word love.
Vanya's deductions are perfectly logical. I wouldn't have reacted like this if I hadn't loved her. Hell, I pride myself on my selfishness, yet with her I'd been uncharacteristically unselfish. Maybe it's not the love regular people feel, but it's the nearest thing to it I can feel. And I'll take it. Because then I might have something to offer her.
Something other than destruction.
"Finally!" Vanya rolls her eyes. "My idiotic brother, you have your work cut out for you."
"Don't I know it?" I mutter.
One thing is for sure. When one is desperate, one resorts to desperate measures.
I'd thought that reaching out to a psychiatrist had been the height of folly given my own rather resolute beliefs regarding its scientific validity.
But what I'm about to do now defies every law of logic.
I watch as the plane dips towards the make-shift landing strip, already seeing the vast expanse of forest stretching all around the horizon line.
One of my contacts from Peru, Joaquin, is waiting for me when I land, the itinerary ready for this last attempt at regaining my sanity.
"Good to see you, Vlad," he adds drily when I set my luggage in the waiting cart.
"Joaquin, dear, if anyone heard you they'd think you aren't happy to see me." I joke, even though I know are acquaintance is strained at best. Still, he owed me a favor and I'm cashing in.
"I can't say I expected to see you here, Vlad. Ever again," he mutters, "not after you almost caused a civil war here."
"That I stopped too." I smile.
Since I'd taken over the Bratva, I'd also continued with its favorite pastime—drugs. I mean, it is a lucrative business, and over the years it has lined my pockets with gold, but it's also messy. I'd continued my father's business associations with certain organizations from South America, and Peru has proved to be the best avenue for resourcing coca leaves and turning them into a people's favorite—not coca cola sadly.
This area in particular had not seen much competition from cartels or other organizations, so I'd focused my resources here.
Well, the moment I'd set my sights on this place, so had other people. And a small war had started in the region. While I can't say I actually caused the conflict, I definitely squashed it when I killed all those brave souls so ready to pick up a weapon and go against me.
"Did you make the arrangements?" I ask him as we head to the Jeep.
"After the mess you caused here, I can't say there are many people willing to work with you," he sighs. "Almost everyone knows your name by now, or has at least heard of el Supay."
"I didn't realize I gained such a reputation."
"La gente habla, Vlad. Rumors of your slaughter travelled all around the region. I wouldn't be surprised if people at the other side of the country speak about el Supay con sus cuchillos."
Leaning back in the car, I push my sunglasses up my nose. The heat is almost unbearable for someone used to New York winters, and I'm having a hard time concentrating on Joaquin's ramblings.
"I suppose it is to be expected that something unusual would make the superstitious talk." I allow, knowing that I hadn't made a good impression here.
"Unusual?" Joaquin scoffs, "they call you el demonio, Vlad. For them, you are the epitome of evil. No shaman will want to work with you," he says resolutely.
"And miss banishing el demonio de mi? I doubt there's not one shaman in this entire Amazonian basin that's not remotely curious about me." I fire back, a little too confidently. After all, I'd had an inkling that my reputation might prove to be an i
mpediment. Still, these people pride themselves on their spiritual power, and wouldn't it be grand indeed if they could vanquish the very devil?
"I said it's hard. Not impossible. There is one..." he trails off.
"Great, there we go." I exclaim, ready to meet this person and be done with it.
I'm not necessarily sure anything will work at this point, but I can't say that until I've tried absolutely everything. It's a promise I made to myself. If I want to be worthy of Sisi, then I need to do everything in my power to save myself.
"A little problem," Joaquin coughs in his fist, looking a little guilty.
"What?"
"He's not... normal," he says sheepishly.
"Wonderful, since I'm not normal either."
"It's not that. It's just that... he's a recluse and rarely performs ceremonies for outsiders," he continues.
"Then we go to another," I almost roll my eyes at him. Can't he see I'm in a hurry. The faster I see this shaman and I get my issues under control, the faster I can have Sisi back into my arms.
"Vlad," he sighs, exasperated. "There is no other. I told you. No one wants to work with you. Todos creen que eres lleno de energia negativa. Nadie quiere trabajar contigo. Ni si quera quieren acercarce a ti. El viejo es el uniqo que queda," he speaks fast, and I have to force myself to keep up with his Spanish.
"Fine. What do I need to do to convince this viejo to take me in?"
"He'll decide when he sees you. He's..." Joaquin shakes his head. "He may be a recluse, but that's because he's too powerful. He sees what others do not and it is too overwhelming for him."
"Let us go there, then. I told you on the phone. I'm in a hurry."
"Estas cosas no se apuran, Vlad," he chides, "El viejo will tell you more, and he will decide whether to take you on or not." His tone tells me arguing would be in vain. So I just nod and we continue to the hotel.
A change of clothes, a backpack well packed with enough resources for a few days, we are ready to start on the trip the following morning.
In the meantime I find more intriguing facts about this shaman that everyone calls el viejo. One of the most powerful shamans in Peru, he is one of the few ones reputed to be able to see both the human and the spirit dimensions.
Of course, I try my hardest not to snort every time Joaquin starts gushing about his prowess.
"He'll see right through your skepticism," he tells me as we begin our journey.
"You of all people should know I'm not doing this because I believe in it. It's simply my last resort."
"Then we might be making this journey in vain. El viejo will know. And this treatment is only for those who feel the calling," he grunts, clearly unimpressed with my lack of understanding for their tradition.
"You know I mean no disrespect, Joaquin," I address him in a playful tone, "but I'm a man of science. Surely you can see how these claims look from my end."
"And yet you're here, seeking to benefit from those claims."
"Trial and error, nothing else," I smile, "I'm merely testing the validity, even though the science behind it is flimsy at best."
"There are chemical agents in these plants that have been shown to help with disorders of the psychiatric realm," he replies.
"I agree. But there's a big difference between some benefits and life-changing moments, as some profess."
"Then you'll just have to see," he shrugs, "and judge for yourself whether it will be life-changing or not."
Starting from Manu, we have to venture off the beaten path deep into the rainforest. According to Joaquin, el viejo's dwelling is somewhere close to the border with Brazil.
The journey should take us a couple of days with a few stops in between.
The moisture in the air makes it hard to breathe, the direct heat from the sun messing with my senses. Joaquin is used to the weather, and to venturing into the rainforest, so for him it's a piece of cake.
We walk for close to ten hours, and Joaquin becomes increasingly more good natured as he starts interacting with the wildlife, telling me stories and facts about each animal.
I chose him well.
As expected, as a former ranger, he is very familiar with the area and with the dangers.
When the sun goes down, we finally take a break, making camp next to a huge kapok tree.
"Why now?" Joaquin asks as we sit around a small fire, roasting some meat we'd brought with us. "I've known you for years Vlad, and you've never given any indication that you'd want to change."
"Different circumstances," I shrug.
Joaquin had been the first one to suggest seeking a shaman for my issues, citing a disconnect between my heart and my psyche as the main reason for my attacks. I'd disagreed, after all my heart is merely an organ that pumps blood. Nothing more, nothing less. Yes, it keeps me alive, but it does not dictate anything else.
I may have been wrong, though.
I'd never understood before the meaning of heartache, or heartbreak, or anything relating to the heart. Why would a perfectly healthy organ hurt? Biologically the only explanation would be an incoming heart attack, or a heart ailment of sorts.
But now...
I close my eyes and I see Sisi, her entire body covered in bruises and bite marks, blood pouring from her wounds. She'd looked beaten and on the verge of passing out.
And for the first time my heart had hurt.
Like a fissure slowly starting from one end and reaching the other, I'd felt a bolt of lightning go through that organ that's only supposed to pump blood. My chest had suddenly felt heavy, and I'd had a hard time breathing.
Heartache.
It's taken me three decades to learn what heartache is.
And it fucking hurts!
Considering my pain receptors are ninety percent muted, that pain had resounded in my entire body. How I'd not succumbed under its weight I do not know.
"What could have changed for the mighty Supay to ask for help?" he jokes.
"Stop calling me that. I'm no demon," I fire back, a smile on my face.
"Debatable," he shrugs. "You still have not answered my question."
"I finally found something to live for," I say, avoiding more questions on the subject.
The night upon us, I try to not mind the mosquitos as they keep on attacking me. Vanya's been quiet all day, almost as if she's both excited and apprehensive at the same time.
"What if I disappear?" she asks, head on her hands as she stares me in the eyes from her small makeshift bed in front of me.
"You weren't complaining with Sisi," I whisper, since she'd never said anything about how Sisi's presence seemed to undermine her own.
"But at least then I knew you had her. Now..." she trails off, looking tired and weary.
"Go to sleep, man!" Joaquin's voice rings out, and I sigh, watching as Vanya's form settles down into the ground, like fine dust, her eyes closed, her body gone in seconds.
And I'm finally able to sleep.
The next couple of days are spent wading through the jungle and avoiding close encounters with some dangerous animals.
"We should arrive there at sundown," Joaquin mentions when we stop for a snack.
Unaccustomed with too much sun, I'm getting more tired than usual, so news is music to my ears.
"Perfect," I reply, popping a piece of fruit in my mouth.
Out of nowhere, a small monkey jumps on my shoulder, her tiny hands reaching for the food. Its brown reddish fur glints int the light, its huge tail hanging over my back as it steals my food.
"Titi monkey," Joaquin points out, smiling at the monkey's antics. "The mate shouldn't be far off," he says and right on time, another monkey appears, carrying its young on its back.
"So cute," Vanya gushes, trying to wave her hand at the monkey currently residing on my back.
Joaquin nods. "They're one of the few monkey species that are monogamous," he explains, going into detail about the monkey population of Peru.
"Vlad, look!" Vanya yells when the monk
ey jumps off my back, following its mate as they take their place on a tree. Their tails are hanging down, slowly moving towards each other until they become entwined.
"It's called tail twinning," Joaquin notes, and Vanya can't stop running around, marveling at how cute the monkeys are. "It's an affectionate gesture for them," he explains, Vanya's eyes going wide.
"It's a sign, Vlad! It's a sign," she comes rushing back to me, her arms holding tightly on to me. "It's a sign," she continues, almost out of breath.
"What sign?" I ask, ignoring Joaquin's odd stare.
She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. In the blink of an eye she's gone, an unusual screech sounding in the forest.
"Shit!" Joaquin curse. "We need to move," he starts packing his stuff, urging me to do the same.
"Why?" I frown, confused at the hurry.
"We need to reach el viejo before sundown," he says cryptically.
Seeing to my own stuff, I place the backpack on my shoulders and I follow him.
We do in fact reach the designed spot just as the sun leaves the sky. A couple of connected cabins in the middle of nowhere, el viejo's dwellings are nothing much — not that I expected much, anyway.
One step into the enclosure, and a man in a long robe exits one of the cabins, his eyes narrowed as he takes us in.
"Abuelo," Joaquin addresses him, lowering his head in a sign of respect.
The man barely pays him attention as he walks forward, his movements brisk for someone his age.
Stopping in front of me, he raises his head to look me in the eye.
"Te estaba esperando," he states, looking me up and down before closing his eyes and breathing in the air around.
Moving around in a circle, he starts chanting something, his voice low.
"Marchese, por marcharse adelante," he intones, the wind howling strongly as if reacting to his voice.
"Come," he eventually tells us, inviting us into his home.
"What are you seeking here, stranger?" El viejo turns to me, and for a moment I feel like his eyes can see right through me.
"What everyone else does," I smile, "to have my curiosity assuaged."