Page 70 of Unrelenting
“Marco didn’t tell you anything when he took you home?”
“Oh, he told me lots, mainly about tennis. I now know more about Matteo Berrettini than I ever needed to.”
“Marco is passionate about his sports. Just be glad he didn’t get around to talking about football. He’s a Lazio supporter.”
Lorenzo’s shudder of horror tells me he’s probably an AS Roma fan but I don’t want to discuss sports right now.
“Remind me to never ask him about that.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Now, stop trying to distract me and tell me about the other day.”
“Lucia….”
“No, Lorenzo. If this is going to work between us, you have to talk to me.”
He narrows his eyes. “You know, that goes both ways, Lucia.”
“I know, but I promise there’s nothing to tell. I’ve had too many late nights at the restaurant, that’s all.” I smile to reassure him. “Now, tell me about your mother. Is she ill?”
Lorenzo nods and shakes his head at the same time as if he’s unsure how to answer. “She’s fragile.” He draws in a deep breath. “You’ve heard the rumors about how my father died.”
“That Damiano killed him so he could take over?”
“That’s only partly true. Damiano killed him but it was because our father was an abusive asshole. He beat our mother so badly she ended up on life support.”
“Oh, god, Lorenzo. I’m sorry.”
He shrugs as if he doesn’t need pity. “She was unconscious for a time and when she woke she wasn’t the same. She’s forgetful, easily confused. There are days when she can’t get out of bed without one of the staff cajoling her. She gets terrible headaches, you know the ones with the….”
He gestures with his hand, waving it around his eye.
“An aura?” I suggest.
“Yes, an aura. She also has days when she barely eats or drinks.”
“I had no idea.” The woman I saw appeared a little frail, and it was clear she was forgetful since she kept asking about Gabriele, but I didn’t think much of it.
“She was in one of her brighter moods yesterday. She enjoyed meeting you, but then she started thinking about Gabriele.”
“He hasn’t visited her in a while?”
Lorenzo presses his lips together. He’s clearly angry with his brother. “Months.”
I’m not sure whether to ask him about Gabriele but I guess if he doesn’t want to talk, he can tell me so.
“Is it true your brother was badly injured?”
“Yes. He was ambushed one night. Two of the cowards held him while the other cut him with a broken bottle. His face is…” Lorenzo closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath. “He was the pretty one among us, the one the girls flocked to.”
Looking at Lorenzo and even the darkly handsome Damiano, it’s hard to imagine their brother was any better looking than they are.
“Anyway,” Lorenzo continues, “I went to see him after I left you, to tell him he needs to visit Mamma.”
It’s apparent from the tension in his shoulders that his encounter with his brother didn’t go well. “Is he not going to go see her?”
“No and worse than that he refused to see me. He left me standing outside like some delivery boy.”
The sadness in Lorenzo’s eye as he thinks about his brother is devastating.
“I’m sorry, Lorenzo. Families suck sometimes.”
