Page 87 of Caruso
“Will you tell me what you are all running from?”
His eyes darken, and I add hastily, “I asked Matteo, and he told me it was your story to tell. Whatever it is, it affects you all. I can’t give up so much of myself without knowing what’s holding you all back.”
He says nothing and glares at the landscape, deep in thought.
I hold my breath because it’s as if we have reached a crossroads and he is deciding on the way.
Then he turns to me and nods, a dark gleam in his eye.
“It’s hard for me to speak of something that happenedyears ago but is as fresh in my mind as if it happened yesterday. I shut the memory away to prevent it destroying me, however–” He balls his hand into a fist and says gruffly, “You deserve the truth, Taylor and here, on the edge of sanity, this could be the perfect place to educate you in the hope that it doesn’t scare you away. In the hope it convinces you to stay.”
Chapter Forty
Tommaso
Inever wanted to tell my story. I never wanted to cast my mind back to that time. It’s inevitable that I am here now. Telling Taylor. The only woman who has melted the layer of ice that formed around my heart the day they took her.
I take a deep breath of fresh, clean, mountain air and nod toward the rock positioned on the edge of the ridge.
“Take a seat; this may take some time.”
We sit together, staring over the scenery as if we’re two people enjoying a hike, not two people who are about to bare all to one another. I have never been so vulnerable. It’s just Taylor and me on top of the world trying to make sense of it.
“It happened seven years ago and three months.”
She is wise to say nothing and merely sits beside me with a blank expression. It’s strange having company when I revisit this tale.
“I had a sister, Loretta, we were twins.”
I clench my fist to ward off the emotion that name brings with it.
“We were close. As identical in spirit as we differed in looks. Our personalities clashed, though. She was sweet and loving; I, well, it may shock you to discover—was not.”
She nudges me but says nothing, and I appreciate that.
“At the time, we remained firmly entrenched in the mafia business. The Don, my father, controlled with an iron fist. Our childhood was terrifying in many ways but as loving as an Italian home can be. All that mattered was family, and it meant something.”
I pick a stone off the rock and fling it out over the ridge, more as a distraction than anything else, something I did as a kid many times, not so much as an adult.
The wind whips around my words as my memory carves out another piece of my heart.
“As always, others wanted what we had. They tried many times to overthrow us and failed. Mainly low-life criminals without a history behind them, chancing their luck in the hope that one day they might strike lucky. We underestimated them.”
I pull my shades out of my inner pocket and shield my eyes from the glare, from the sun or to hide my expression, both I would say.
My voice is husky as I whisper, “They staged a war, gathered their troops and struck hard. They made a good choice when my parents were enjoying a vacation on their motorboat. I was in the office of one of our clubswhen the news hit. The boat exploded like a rocket, taking my parents, their guards and all the staff with it.”
She rests her hand on my arm but doesn’t offer her condolences. Once again, I appreciate the gesture more than words right now.
“Matteo called and told me to return home. At once. As always my first thought was of Loretta. Apparently, she went shopping and Matteo had already alerted her guards to bring her home.”
I throw another stone, the action a comforting distraction from my emotions.
“When I returned home, the place was on lockdown. It resembled a fortress most days, but that day it was impenetrable. We waited for Loretta. She never made it home.”
I stop, testing the next words that threaten to rip my heart to shreds.
“Giorgio was busy planning all kinds of retaliation with Matteo, but I couldn’t focus on anything because my pain consumed me. Somehow, I knew that Loretta was in danger. We searched the entire State but found no leads. Days turned into weeks, and we never heard a thing. Her guards had been shot dead; her car abandoned. The cops were no help; they didn’t want the red tape that would accompany a mafia war.”
