Page 79 of Don't Let Go

I blinked back tears; they were turning more into tears of rage than grief. “What happened to my papà was a robbery gone wrong. We were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I doubt a drive-by killing my baby sister has anything to do with that,” my voice was razor sharp.

“We want to look at every possible lead. I’m sure this is hard on you.” Detective McMann put a hand on my shoulder. He meant it as a gesture, but it felt insulting. They were wasting their time. I was going to figure out who did this and kill them myself. I didn’t care if it was or wasn’t Paolo. Someone was going to pay for Lizzy.

“I don’t know who would do this. I don’t know if they were targeting my family, if it was mistaken identity, or for kicks. All I know is my little Lizzy is gone.” My voice shook, and I hated myself for that. I wanted to remain strong. I had to for Lizzy.

The female officer returned to the living room. My brothers were on either side of my mamma, helping her sit in her rocking chair.

“If you think of anything, even the smallest of details, please call us.” Detective McMann handed me his card.

I took it, fingering it between my pointer and thumb. “Okay,” I managed to reply.

The officers left, and the house remained still. I felt like this family was cursed. That I was cursed. I wasn’t going to tailspin like this and allow another loved one to die without being avenged.

I stood up, wiping away the last of my tears. “We need to figure out who did this.”

Franco glared at me as he massaged Mamma’s shoulders, trying to get her to relax a little. “Not now. There’s a time for sorrow and a time for punishment.”

How could he say that? How could we all sit around crying when we could act? How was I the only one more pissed than sad?

I grabbed handfuls of my hair, pulling until my scalp ached. “I don’t have time for sadness. All I want is blood for blood. An eye for an eye. A life for a life.”

My family was broken. Carmen sat at our mamma's feet, leaning her head on Mamma’s leg. Franco gave me an evil glare as he stood behind Mamma, acting as if he were the man of the house. Lorenzo gave me a puzzled look as he sat on the loveseat with his hands glued to his knees. How could they not want to rise at this moment for vengeance? Why was I the only sane one? I couldn’t sit around and cry over Lizzy and reminisce about her short life. Not again. Not after we did something similar to Papà and then he was slowly packed away. Safely stored in the back of our minds and our hearts, but all traces of him around the house had been erased. There weren’t even photos of him up anymore.

No. I wanted action for my baby sister’s life. I wanted the bastard in the ground for hurting Lizzy. My heart longed for payback. My soul craved the fear in his eyes as I snuffed out his life.

“Aurora Silvana, we don’t talk like that around here.” Mamma’s eyes darted to Tyler. The innocent boy who still didn’t know we had so many criminal ties it would make his head spin.

“I can’t,” I said, backing away. If I remained there, I’d unravel. My family would pull the loose thread, and that would be my undoing.

Tyler followed me upstairs. He grabbed my arm before I slammed my door in his face. “Rory, I don’t understand what you’re going through. I can’t imagine. Please don’t shut me out.”

I stood tall. All my emotions needed to wither away. I needed my sorrow to be put into a little box and hidden deep inside my mind. My bleeding heart needed to cease in its agony. “I need to be alone.”

His hand slid down my arm and held my hand, squeezing it gingerly. “I’m scared, too,” he whispered.

I pulled my hand away. “I’m not scared. I’m pissed off.” I slammed the door in his face and slid down onto the carpet.

I’m not going to break. I’m not going to break. I’m not going to break.

My life is nothing but lies. Hence why it’s so easy to lie to everyone, claiming I’d catch up at the funeral. Mamma was already at the church since this morning making sure everything was perfect. I think she needed to keep her hands and mind busy.

I opened my closet and grabbed the black dress I wore to my papà’s funeral. It had a lacy top and a cute little skirt that touched the tops of my knees. I sat on the floor to dig in the back for my black flats and came across a box decked out with fake stamps of European countries all over it. I wanted it to be my treasure box once I traveled the world and put my favorite things inside for safekeeping. Instead, I put my papà’s 9mm Glock 19 inside with a pink scarf to keep the gun from banging around when the box moved. It had a clip loaded with the safety on and two backup clips. My papà enjoyed collecting weapons, mostly knives, but Mamma wanted to get rid of them. She claimed they would only bring trouble, and she didn’t want to expose Lizzy to any unneeded violence.

I picked up my gun. When I first held it about seven years ago, it was heavy. I didn’t know how anyone could make a perfect shot with a metal monster in their hand. That was until my papà taught me how to shoot while we hung out on our weekend road trips.

The cool metal bit into my skin. I examined the gun and decided I wanted to hide it in my car in case anything panned out about Lizzy’s death. I hiked up my skirt and placed the gun in the waistband of my black leggings. The last thing I wanted was for the neighbors to see me carrying heat around.

I found my flats and grabbed my purse, finally ready to leave. My brothers had a family friend repair my car and scrub out the blood stains from the interior. But in the center console was Lizzy’s phone. Tears pricked my eyes as I grabbed the phone, hugging it to my chest. I started the car and selected her princess playlist, leaving the volume on low. I closed my eyes and imagined Lizzy in the back seat, as happy as ever, singing along.

It hurt too much. My hand shot forward, clicking it off as if by instinct. My heart splintered and stabbed at my other organs. I wiggled the gun out of my leggings and hid it in the glovebox. As for today, I was a grieving sister, but later, who knew what I’d be capable of? I backed out of the driveway, listening to the voices in my head argue as I drove to the church.

Lizzy’s funeral was heartbreakingly beautiful. The pews were filled with friends andfamilyfrom all around the state and country. Mamma leaned on Carmen for support. It was strange seeing my mamma, the pillar of strength, shattered into numerous jagged little pieces. I remembered my papà’s funeral.She cried as the pastor spoke of his praises, but once everything was over and done with, she swept her emotions under the rug. She told me, “Life must go on, I’m afraid. Your papà would want us to remember the good times and continue with our lives. I live on for him and you kids.” Then his pictures began to vanish off the walls a few months later until all that remained was the one in the living room, hidden away from sight.

While everyone bowed their heads in prayer as the pastor spoke, I looked around the room. The sun shined through the stained glass of Jesus, making a rainbow filter down and touch Lizzy’s little pink coffin. The entire stage was engulfed in white lilies, her favorite. All around me were bowed heads, a sea of so many different hairstyles and colors. In the last row of the church was where Paolo and his cousins, Vincenzo and Marcos, sat with their backs straight, looking forward at the sea of grieving people. Their expressions were cold as if they were playing a poker game. Paolo’s eyes slid over and met my gaze. I stared him down. He smirked and hit Vincenzo with his shoulder. The bastard had the nerve to wave.

I turned around, bowing my head and digging my nails deep into my palms. I’d be surprised if my crescent moon wounds didn’t bleed.

Ty sat next to me. He laid his hand on my thigh as if showing he was there for me. He had no idea what I was going through. He couldn’t. He was too green. He didn’t know what it took to take someone down and make them disappear out of existence.

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