Today is day seven.
It’s the first day I have been able to get out of bed longer than to use the bathroom and grab a drink of water. The house is huge. I haven’t even explored a quarter of it, but I guess time is on my side because that’s all I have.
I’m here because I can never go back to America.
I knew the consequences of my actions when I ended that piece of shit’s life. However, the crime of killing Father Merry is worth the punishment because, given the choice again, I would make the same one.
Gianna put me on a plane, and when I arrived in Sicily, a driver was waiting for me at the airport.
We didn’t speak.
He simply grabbed my duffel and drove me here.
There are no phones.
No internet.
I don’t even see a car.
I am totally off-grid, and I know that’s with intent.
It’s safer this way.
Gianna and I know that the fewer people who know of my arrival, the better it is, for now, anyway. Because it’s expected of me to take over where Gianna cannot. She’s hunted here, thanks to Aldo. That bastard deserves the fate he got.
Gianna trusts me to look after the family business here. I will ensure that I don’t let her down.
As I peer over the balcony while sipping my espresso, I can’t help but think that life is a roller coaster. I have done some god-awful things. I have killed and enjoyed doing it. And I know I will kill again. The things done to me in my past don’t excuse my behavior.
But perhaps there is a God, after all, and this home, this serenity, is my compensation as such for what I endured. Whatever the reason, I don’t question it because, for the first time, I feel at peace.
Father Merry is dead.
Gianna is finally free of Aldo.
And I am safe.
There is only one thing missing.
And that’s Lennon.
Our last exchange confirmed that we are now enemies, and this time, it’s for good. We fight on opposing teams, and I don’t think we will ever be on the same side. I wish it were different because being apart from Lenny, I miss him so much.
He’s been a significant part of my life, and regardless of my faults, he has always been there for me.
But not this time.
I am truly on my own.
Well, that’s not entirely true when I hear a dog barking in the distance. The noise grows louder until who that bark belongs to ends up in my back garden.
A black-and-white dog runs around the olive groves like he owns the place. He’s clearly been here before.
I quickly make my way down the stairs and out through the kitchen. The moment he sees me, he comes running toward me, his pink tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth.
“Hey, boy,” I coo as I crouch.
The dog crashes into my arms, licking my face excitedly.