Page 30 of The Diávolos: Part One
“Mama?” I call out in a whisper. I can hear her talking to someone, mybaba, I presume, and she’s crying now. I don’t like whenmamacries. It makes me sad, and I want to give her a hug.
She walks into my room followed by mybabaand sits on the side of the bed. She grabs me tightly and her tears seep into my pajamas. My t-shirt is wet, but I couldn’t care less. Mymamais crying, and I want to make her feel better. I kiss her cheek and the salty taste of her tears invades my mouth.
“Mama, why are you crying?” I ask. Mybabasits next to her, rubbing her shoulder, and looking back at the door every few seconds.
“Sshh,Kamári mou, everything is going to be alright. I need you to listen to me, okay? We don’t have much time,”babasays to me urgently.
I nod and he leans closer.
“You remember that little crawl space I showed you when we were playing hide and seek? Under the staircase, behind the library?” I nod. “Okay, I need you to run there quietly with your little sister and hide. No matter what, I need you both to stay in there until me ormamacome and get you. Do you understand, Evanaki?”
I nod for the third time. “I’m scared,baba.” Tears start rolling down my cheeks.Mamais still holding me in her arms, and it feels like this is goodbye. “Are there bad people here to take you?” I ask, confused. My mother chokes on a sob and covers her mouth to muffle the sound of her cries.
“It’s okay to be scared,Kamári mou, just remember that yourmamaandbabaare always with you. You are strong,”mamasays, and I squeeze her.
We hear muffled voices coming from the back of the house. It sounds like two or maybe three men. My parents quickly usher me out of the room, and I run down the stairs holding ontomama’s hand, while mybabaheads in the other direction toward my sister’s room. Mymamatakes me to the library shelf under the staircase and pushes the cabinet door that opens onto a crawl space.Babaarrives with my sister, and my eyes widen when I see he’s holding a gun.
“Baba,who are these men? Are they going to hurt us?” I ask him.
“No one will hurt you, my son. Just stay hidden, like I told you, and don’t make a sound. Everything will be okay, I promise.”
They kiss my sister and me and tell us they love us. Mybababends down to help my sister into the cabinet just as someone grabs mymamaby her nightgown and shoves her to the floor. My little sister yells out for our mother and tries to reach over to her. I hold her back by her legs, begging her in a whisper to stay inside with me.Babadraws his gun and yells at the men to leave my mother alone. My sister claws at the floor to get out of my hold, screaming at the top of her lungs. Her legs are wriggling so much that I lose my grip and she crawls away too fast for me to catch her. Mybabakicks the door to the cabinet shut before they notice me, and I sit in the little crawl space with my legs tucked into my chest.
No, no, no, no, no. Even though I’m squeezing my eyes shut as tight as possible, I can’t stop the tears from rapidly flowing down my cheeks. I hear mymamaand sister scream and my hand flies to my mouth as I try to muffle the sound of my cry. I start rocking my body back and forth, hoping the movement will ease the upsetting feeling in my tummy. I hug my chest, pretending that it’s mymama’s arms cradling me. I hear the voices of the men get closer and mybabashouts at mymamato take my sister and run. And then I hear gunshots.
Three. And my whole world crumbles.
My eyes snap open. It takes me a few seconds to realize where I am. I’m still at the office and it’s dark, so I know it’s not morning yet. I rub my face with trembling hands.
My heart is racing as I struggle to take a full breath. If I had any tears left, this is when they would come out flowing. I’m covered with sweat, so I rip my t-shirt off and sit up to reach for the bottle of water on the nightstand. I drink half of it in one breath, but I need something stronger.
I don’t have nightmares often and I never usually remember my dreams, except for this one. The constant reminder of how I failed. The fucking sound of those three gunshots plagues me, but it’s the silence that followed that haunts me.
That’s why I can’t live on the Vasilakis estate. Not because my family was killed in that house, but because it’s so fucking quiet. I can’t stand it. I need the sound of the city surrounding me to make me feel less alone.
When I think of the fear I felt in that moment, my heart breaks all over again for six-year-old me.
I later learned that mybabahad called my uncle when he first heard the intruders entering the house and told him we were under attack. He’d also informed him where my sister and I would be hiding, just in case anything was to happen to him and mymama. Flashing back to that horrible day, I remember hearing a familiar voice call my name after what felt like days of being trapped in the small space.
A minute later, the door to the cabinet had opened and there stood my uncle, looking like all the blood had been drained out of his body. He carried me out of the crawl space and held me tight, making sure to not let me see the bloodshed of my dead family.
“They will all suffer for this. I will protect you from now on,Kamári mou,” he said.
He fulfilled that promise until his last breath.
My heartbeat finally starts slowing down, the adrenaline rush leaving my body. I get out of bed and head into the office area. I open the liquor cabinet, pull out a bottle ofouzo,and pour myself a glass. I don’t even bother adding ice and swallow the liquid in one swig.
The burn is a welcome feeling right now.
* * *
I wakeup some hours later, still in my office. I don’t remember how and when I got back to bed, but I drank enoughouzoto tranquilize a horse. It’s early as hell, but that doesn’t stop me from drowning in my own thoughts. I’ve barely dragged myself out of bed and I’m already thinking of going back to Angelica. I should just call the whole fucking plan off. I’m failing miserably.
The events from last night flood my mind and I close my eyes, rubbing my temples, as if that will erase the memories. But nothing happens. I open my eyes and still see Angelica in all her intoxicated and aroused glory, begging me to touch her and make her come. I have rules and one of them is to not fuck drunk women,especiallydrunk Angelica. Last night, I struggled between listening to my cock or my brain, both giving me different opinions. It was either break my own rule and give Angelica what she desired or stand my ground and follow my carefully devised revenge plan. It’s been getting harder and harder to abstain from her, so I gave in. I didn’t fuck her, but I still made her come all over my fingers.That doesn’t count as breaking the rules, right?Doing it again is all I can think about.
Something about Angelica coming onto me last night pissed me off. Was she only flirting with danger because she was intoxicated? It might’ve been harsh to reject her so ruthlessly, but I don’t care, she was drunk, despite what she claimed. I don’t have the energy to deal with childish acts, and her tantrum last night proved my point. She’s too young for me.
Although I wasn’t impressed by her behavior, it didn’t stop my dick from twitching in my pants. I saw the way her eyes wandered over my body. When her hand landed on my thigh, I felt something travel through me. I had flinched ever-so-slightly, but she jerked as if she’d been hit by a lightning bolt.
