But just like a man on the brink of starvation, I go. I don't think I could ever say no to her. When I'm next to the opening in the fence, she reaches between the pickets to wrap her scarf around my torso. She struggles a little, so I try to help her, getting one last feel of her soft hands.
"Thank you." I say once again, and I bring both her hands to my lips. What I wouldn't give to worship this woman for the rest of my life... But I, better than anyone, should know that we seldom get what we wish for.
With a last parting gaze, I leave, holding a piece of her with me forever.
She's all that's pure and good, and I want her to remain like that. I would only taint her with my bloodstained hands; hold her down with the weight of my sins. She deserves better; for I wouldn't wish myself upon my greatest enemies. She deserves the heavens and above, but I can only give her hell and below.
So I let her go.
And with her, I'm also leaving my heart behind — or what little I had left.
A FEW DAYS LATER,
I WAKE UP WITH residual pain in my ribs. I groan, stretching a little to find a more comfortable position. I extend my hand, grabbing onto the silky material on the pillow next to me. I bring it to my nose, inhaling the soft scent of Catalina.
I'm never washing this.
I'm lost in dreams of her when someone knock on my door.
"Tuo padre ti sta chiamando." He yells and I wince. When father calls, I have to answer.
Carefully folding the scarf and putting it in a safe space, I dress up and leave. The soldier who'd knocked on my door tells me to head to the basement. Father has a surprise for me, he says.
I don't want to know what type of surprise awaits me in the basement, especially after the last beating.
I school my feature into a bored look and go down the stairs. Opening the door, I step inside. I have to blink a few times to let my eyes accommodate to the sudden lack of lighting.
"Marcello, just who I was looking for." Father greets me with an enthusiasm that belies his very nature.
"Father." I reply in greeting.
"Come, come. Let me show you what I got you."
I frown. "What you got me?" I ask, confused at his words. He's never in his life gotten me anything.
"Consider this a gift for your years of service." He leads me deeper into the basement, opening another door.
I take only when step and I stop, thinking my eyes are playing tricks on me.
But they're not.
The table in the middle of the room, usually used for torture, is now housing a new prisoner. Her wrists and ankles are locked at each end of the table, her body forming the shape of an X. Her dress is completely torn, her back a mess of skin and blood, red liquid still coursing down her legs.
Catalina.
"What do you say, boy? Like my gift? I have to say it wasn't that easy to get it. But I already marked her for you." He gloats, and proceeds to tell me how they'd abducted her from the front of her house.
I take another step forward and realize what he meant by marking.
Father had carved an M encased by a big C in her back. The edges are raw, enough to cause God knows what pain.
Catalina...
I stifle a sob as I take in her form.
What did he do to her?
"What's this?"
"A gift for the Chimera. I'd say it's quite fitting." He preens, pointing to his knife handiwork. I clench my fists, agony lacing through my chest—still not as much as Catalina must be feeling right now. I wish I could spare her this, absorb her pain into my body. The more I look at her body strapped to that table, the more I get this murderous urge to kill everyone who dared to touch her.
"Why?" I steady my voice so father doesn't realize how affected I am by this.
"You think I haven't heard the rumors about your obsession with this girl? You haven't exactly been secretive." He snorts, and I turn to look at him. "So she is why you stopped coming to the bordello." Father smirks, his gaze leering over Catalina's form.
I take a deep breath. I won't solve anything if I attack him right now. More soldiers will come in and restrain me before I can do any damage.
"I'm right, aren't I? She's the reason you've been slacking off."
Just at that moment, a moan of pain escapes Catalina. I close my eyes, silently asking for forgiveness. Everything I feared before just happened.
Now I can only hope to minimize the damage.
"I haven't been slacking off." I reply. It is technically true. I've killed as I always kill—clinically and efficiently.
"Really?" Father raises an eyebrow, and I know that it's a moot point to keep explaining myself. "This is rather simple. I got her so you can enjoy her, get her out of your system. She's a virgin, isn't she? The best kind." He nods approvingly, and I'm getting sick to my stomach just listening to him speak about her like that. "You'll be the first to sample her charms. If that's not the perfect gift." He gives a whistle, shaking his head in amusement. "Her blood coating your cock. Top quality right here, boy."
"You forget she's Rocco's daughter. We can't do that." I bring up my best argument as I try to reason with him. Surely even he can see how dangerous this is.
"As if I care." He shrugs, taking out a cigar and lighting it up. "I need you to get your head in the game, and it won't happen until she's out of your system. So go ahead. Fuck her." He motions dismissively to her feeble form.
"I will do nothing." For the first time, I'm saying no. I've had no limits before, but I find that Catalina is where I draw the line.
Father takes a deep drag of his cigar, his eyes intent on me.
"You are pussy-whipped, aren't you? He was right." Father notes thoughtfully.
"Who?"
He shrugs. "If you don't want her, I'll just give her to the guards. I bet they'll love it."
My eyes widen as I understand the enormity of the situation. It's my fault. All my fault...
It only took one interaction to her. Everything I touch turns to dust... I turn my head slightly towards the table, and I know what to do.
I'll give father something he's always wanted, but never got.
My knees bend slowly, until I'm at his feet. Head bent; I kiss his feet.
"I'll do anything. Please... just let her go." I supplicate him, the ultimate act of subservience.
Father laughs. He actually throws his head back and laughs.
Still on the ground, I keep my eyes to the floor.
"Please..."
"See, boy. This is exactly what I was talking about. You're weak. This," He motions to Catalina "is making you weak. How can I trust you to do what's necessary for the famiglia when you'd do anything for her? Would you die for her?" He asks sarcastically, already knowing the answer. "I thought I beat those feelings out of you a long time ago, boy." He sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. "It seems you need one last nudge to let go. So you either kill those fucking emotions that make you a goddamn pussy, or..." He removes his gun from the back of his trousers and points it to Catalina. Panic swells inside of me, so I immediately nod.
"I'll do whatever you want." Anything for him to spare her.
"You have two choices, boy. You fuck her out of your system, or you get to watch my soldiers each get a turn. What do you say?" His mouth pulls into an evil smile, and I realize he's got me cornered.