“Your son already suggested it. They’ll take their classes online, and we’ll all enjoy a few more days here while we take care of your dad’s stuff.” I wrapped my arms around him and rested my ear over his heartbeat. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For taking such good care of me, of us.”
It was only now that the excitement was over that the ramifications of Gabe finding Papa set in. Draco hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure at some point he’d question how Gabe even knew to go looking. It’s not something we’ve discussed with the kids, other than in passing. Oh, dear. Gabe met Athena; what did she say to him?
I felt sick panic rise up inside of me. Not even Draco knows the truth about that night. I’d embellished the story when I told it to him, too ashamed to share the real truth about that night. Even Papa has no idea that I'd dragged myself home that night, hurt and bleeding. The end result was the same after all, but all that had led up to it for me made it even worse in my mind.
Though we never bring it up, I remember well the story I’d told my husband, the same one I'd told Papa that I was alone in the cottage when I was attacked. Somehow, I’d built up that story in my mind; it made it easier to deal with the reality of what had truly happened. I may have felt some guilt for my part in it as well, knowing that I’d been a fool to trust Felice all those years ago. Some might even blame me for being there, though I had been tricked.
“What’s wrong?” I forgot he was holding me and that he knew me so well. My body had tensed up with my thoughts; now, I must evade his question. “Nothing, just tired. Let’s go to bed.” Who would’ve thought that I’d ever have the confidence to distract my husband with sex? I guess it’s a testament to how much I’ve grown because of his love and attention. As if reading my thoughts, Draco broached the subject first. “Who’s this nun who helped your father?”
GABRIEL
Grandpa fell in love with Sheila; I kid you not. I don’t think he’s ever seen a person of color before and treated her like some mythological Goddess, and of course, she was putty in his hands. Before we even got on the plane to head home, she was trying to teach him English, which is the family’s new favorite thing to witness.
She’s been a rock for Ma this whole time, and the bond between the two women was never more evident than now. Even though I doubt she knows why my Ma was going from bouts of joy to having her dad back in her life to moments of anxiety and something approaching fear, she never left her side. It’s no wonder that my family loves this woman the way we do.
A lot has happened in the last four days, which is how long it took Pop to get grandpa’s papers in order. Almost a miracle, but when you know who you know and all that. Anyway, that night after I left Pop, I’d gravitated to Gianna’s room. She was already in bed asleep, tired from the day out, and knowing Lancelot; he’d walked their feet off.
I sat on the bed beside her just to be close, I guess, and listened to her breathe. I played gently in her hair, light enough not to disturb her because my mind was in kill mode, and she didn’t need to see that. I’m surprised I’ve been able to keep my anger so well contained, to the point that not even Pop had noticed. I don’t hate; it’s too stressful an emotion and would take more out of me than the recipient.
But what I feel for Ricci and now his friends is something much darker. There is no emotion attached, so no chance of mercy or compassion for anyone involved; hate is an emotion, a bad one, but one, nonetheless. What I feel could be best described as inhuman, animalistic, primal. It’s crossed all boundaries between the light and the dark.
No way am I going to let anyone else destroy him, and death, a quick death like I’d anticipated, is too good for the likes of him. I already know pretty much everything about the Ricci family, so the groundwork was done there. I know that there’s tension in the family, especially between the brothers; the father is a bit disappointed in his chosen heir, and Ricci’s only claim to fame is his family name and what it affords him and his lifestyle.
I’ve already squashed one deal for him as a precursor, just for kicks and because I wanted to see him squirm. But now, that’s child’s play compared to what I’ve been contemplating since I boarded the plane to come back. The wife, Felice, I know as well because of her proximity to him, but now with the new information, I’ll have to do a deeper search on her as well as the other players.
It’s not hard to come to the realization of what type of man Alonzo Ricci is. I’ve studied him long enough to know how to attack him, break him down, before going in for the kill. Before, I was satisfied with the idea of just taking him out, but now, I won’t rest easy until I destroy him first.
As to Pop, I know I couldn’t pull the wool over his eyes with just that little game I’d just played, so I’m, as usual, I’m going to have to keep him off my scent. Gianna stirred next to me and rolled over until she was pressed against my side, kind of like the first time she slept in my bed.
I looked down at her and felt sadness reach out to grab ahold of me. I’ve always, for some reason since the first time I laid eyes on her, associated her with Ma. Something about her soft beauty and innate warmth always reminded me of the woman who gave me life.
Not in an Oedipus sort of way, of course, but something inside of her just pulls me in. The thought of something so horrific happening to her filled me with dread that I had to close my eyes to calm myself. Even though I knew it was futile, something inside me stumbled at the thought of leaving her, but as usual, that was soon followed by thoughts of Ma and what I owed her for not terminating my existence. Now more than ever, I salute her for bringing me into the world.
I left the bed that night and, for the next few days, used the excuse of helping Pop with getting grandpa situated as an excuse to put some much-needed space between Gianna and me. I know now that keeping her with me is entirely out of the question, and the sooner I get her to her grandmother’s house, the better.
With Felix going to prison, her maiden family is her next closest relatives, and though she’s of age in our state, I don’t see them leaving her there on her own. As to the house, it can be left in the hands of a caretaker unless they choose to sell it. I’d thought of it all, of course, while I was putting my plan together and if she knew that, she’d find me calculating, as she should.
By the time we landed back in the states, the air was filled with festive excitement. Between the ball and having grandpa with us, everyone was still on a high. I tried my best to shield her for as long as possible, but it wasn’t long before word got back to her, somehow, through the twins and their friends. The rumor mill was already working, news of Becky and Victoria’s treatment of Gianna, the fact that Becky might have killed Felix’s first wife, and that she’d burned all her earthly possessions to the ground, which led a distraught Felix to flip and strangle her to death.
It’s part of my campaign to get him off with a lighter sentence since public opinion tends to trump true justice these days. I did that for her. I could’ve gone about things in a way that he may have walked away free, especially after learning about his CPTSD diagnosis, but I still wanted him to pay some kind of price for what he’d done to her. Hypocrite! As if what I’m about to do is any different.