MadeleineA scuffle at my door wakes me from a dead sleep.Ethel came by a few hours ago with my medicine and a little broth. It can’t be her.I slept for a week, and I’m still tired. As soon as the nurse left, I fell asleep again with Betsy pressed tightly against me.Her warmth and presence does give me comfort. Ethel was right.There it is again.I freeze, my insides turning to water, coldness spreading through my body as my heart rate spikes.Someone’s at the door.I try to tell myself it’s just Ethel, or maybe Marco adjusting his position in the chair, but the sound is wrong. It’s coming from the wrong place.A shadow breaks up the thin strip of light shining in through the closed door, and then it’s gone.For a long time, I lie perfectly still, unable to move, barely even breathing, holding Betsy as tight as I can.Slowly, the terror dribbles from my body, and I can command my limbs again. Still trembling, I gently extract myself from Betsy and swing my legs over the edge of th
RafaelI stand with my foot on the first stair, hand on the railing, when my phone starts ringing. The incessant pring-pring-pring echoes off the walls, setting my damn teeth on edge.I reach inside my pocket, and for some reason look up, straight at Madeleine who has a phone to her ear, and is leaning over the barrier, looking down into the foyer.With a grim smile, I glace at the number on the screen, knowing she’s the one using Enzo’s phone. I answer the call regardless. “Yeah?” I keep my eyes on her, unable to see her expression in the gloom, but I can feel her exasperation all the way down here.“Can you come up?” she asks.“You are supposed to be in bed.” I am trying with everything inside me not to laugh. I haven’t laughed in years - not a proper, feel it down in your belly, laugh at any rate.“Something happened,” Madeleine says.The laughter dies as abruptly as it started. “I’ll come up.”She ends the call and disappears from view. I can hear her hushed conversation with Enzo
Rafael Madeleine hesitates for a moment, glancing past me at her bedroom door. “We had an agreement,” I remind her. “If I made it so you could come home-”“No. Yes, I know. It’s just… you want to take me to bed. Betsy’s in my room.”My eyes fall on her lightly trembling hands. Her eyes are dark, uncertain, but she holds her head high, back ruler straight.I take a step in her direction, wrap my hand around her fragile little wrist, while I stare at her beautiful, inviting lips. My heart tumbles in my chest. My knees go weak. My mouth runs dry.God, I want to kiss her.She had that effect on me the first day I met her. I knew then, as I know now, that she possesses a beauty and quiet innocence that needs to be protected at all costs.If only I found her sooner. The casino wouldn’t have touched her delicate soul. But it’s not an indelible stain. We can still wash it out.“What, exactly, do you think I will do to you?” I ask her, keeping my voice quiet, my tone low.“I… well, men take
MadeleineBetsy is still peacefully sleeping when we go back to the bedroom. Rafael leans over the bed and picks her up, folding his arms almost protectively around her. Betsy moans softly in her sleep, then turns into Rafael, trustingly resting her head on his shoulder.“No,” I whisper. “What are you doing?”Now that I’m back, I don’t want to let Betsy out of my sight. I kind of trust Rafael with her - he kept her safe when I couldn't - but I want my sister near me. I feel better when she’s close.“If you want me to stick around,” he answers in a hushed voice. “She needs to go to her own bed or we’ll wake her.”My heart tumbles in my chest. I just invited a man into my bedroom. Anything could happen. But the more time I spend with Rafael, the more I can see Dom. He’s hidden by a hardened shell, but I know what is under that exterior.He’s just like me in a way. Shedding one skin for another so he can cope, so he can do his job.At long last, I nod and walk over to the bed to sit down
Madeleine“You belong to me, Madeleine. You have since the day we met.”His words run like a refrain through my head. Over and over and over again. I couldn’t even argue with him, because it was true. I felt it that day we met. It was the day I started to believe in love at first sight.At some point, I fall asleep, still with those words running through my head, his warm, melodious voice lulling me to sleep.I dream of him. Not Rafael. I don’t know him. He’s a stranger to me.I dream of Dom. The man who walked into my church all those years ago.**I was twenty when Dominic Perelli walked into our little chapel, asking for a priest.The other sisters were out for the day, going to the nearby town to do their monthly shopping and then to the movie theatre to watch a film they'd been talking about for weeks. I chose to stay behind. I always stayed behind. Mother Superior always brought me what I needed - she never asked why I didn't want to join them on their monthly excursion. I enj
RafaelBeing a lawyer taught me how to mask my true feelings. I can stand up in front of a judge and jury and lie with a deadpan face. I have no tells, nothing that gives me away, nothing to alert my enemies that I’m on the way.The only time I give myself away is when I’m with her. I already showed her my most vulnerable side. All those years ago.When I did it, I thought I’d never see her again. In my mind, there was no way a nun and a would-be crime boss would ever cross paths again.But in no time at all, she burrowed her way under the surface, getting stuck in my heart like a little thorn under my skin. Bothersome at first, but I had grown used to her presence in my life.When I left her, when I told her she’d never see me again, I meant it. That was the plan. But like that little thorn that sticks under your skin, she stuck in my mind.She was my secret for many years. The light I could turn to when I needed a break from my dark reality.Then she grew too big. The longing to see
RafaelWe leave through the strip club’s back entrance, and from there go to the casino. The few straight cops, Harris mostly, always have me under surveillance, but they can’t watch every entrance and exit.The strip club’s exit is well-hidden and most people don’t know about it. Even the dancers and staff enter through a different door. It’s the only way I can shake the constant tail on my ass.By the time we get to the casino it is starting to fill up, which suits me just fine. The noise from above will drown out the man in my basement’s screams.Paulie and Frankie already worked him over, and all they could get out of him was a few grunts. All we know about the man is that he works for Sforza.Frankie overheard him bragging in one of Sforza’s joints about the job he pulled, and how he was next in line to become capo because he wasn't, 'afraid to do the dirty work.'He’s a hopped up wiseguy who thinks too much of himself, and he thought that telling the rest of the crew how he kille
RafaelI meet Sforza in one of the private booths at the back of English’s restaurant - Gusto. Robert opened Gusto five years before Carmello died, by then, the two of them were thick as thieves and came as a package. Robert and Carmello, always together. They were like David and Jonathan. I don’t know how they met or what happened between them, and Robert won’t speak about it, but he was a good friend to my brother and mourned his death.At forty, Robert doesn’t look a day over twenty-five, with a thick head of hair, sharp blue eyes, and a tall, slim figure. He never married.There were whispers, back in the day, that my brother and Robert were lovers. The rumours are true, but I never confirm nor deny them. At least Carmello never took a pretend girlfriend so he could appear straight. So many of the other gay wiseguys tend to do, bringing diseases and heartbreak home to their wives and children.Homosexuality is still a big taboo in our world, but it never bothered me one way or th
RafaelThe pops of the nine mil are followed by the unmistakable ra-ta-ta of rifle fire.My stomach clenches.For a moment, I’m frozen in fear.Then it lets go, and I start to move without consciously thinking about it.I yank my nightstand open and take out two pistols, shoving fully loaded clips into the elastic of my pajama bottoms as I go over to the wardrobe to grab a t-shirt and a holster containing two more guns.I yank the t-shirt over my head, and slip my arms through the holster, then leave my room.Time feels like it’s standing still and speeding up at the same time. It took me no more than three minutes to get everything I need, and in all that time, the gunfire never ceased.I walk straight into Madeleine who is standing outside my room, hand outstretch as if she was busy reaching for the door handle. She’s pale. Her eyes wide with fear. “What’s going on?” she asks urgently.“I don’t know. Take this.” I hold one of the pistols out to her. She takes the gun without any pro
RafaelEnzo comes sauntering over to our table. We've been drinking and joking around for a while now, and he kept himself seperate from us on purpose. That, in itself, is the height of disrespect - not just for me, but also my captains.The old guys have slipped into ‘nostalgia mode,’ as I call it, and they’re talking about the good old days. When they get tipsy, they get weepy about how things used to be easier and different. I doubt it was any easier than it is now, they just forgot the uncertainty, the fear of not knowing when an enemy would come up to you and pull the trigger.During a war, safety isn't guaranteed. Death is. In our line of work, your life is always on the line no matter what, but when there's a war the risk increases ten-fold.Not that anyone would ever admit that they were scared. Everyone’s a hero in their own minds - and so are all the men who died during that time.Everyone falls quiet when Enzo pulls a chair over and takes a seat at the table. He wasn’t par
RafaelFor the first time since the night of the stabbing, Enzo shows up and actually looks surprised to see me out and about, acting as if nothing had happened.I can feel it though. Every passing minute is nothing short of torture, and it's getting progressively worse. “Look who finally decided ta show up,” Paulie says and shoots a nasty glance Enzo’s way.I haven’t spoken to Salvatore yet. I wanted to wait a few more days until I could formulate my thoughts better Right now, all my decisions are driven by pain and rage - and when you feel like that, it's not a good time to make life or death decisions.“Yeah,” Enzo says and holds the present in his hands out to me. “Sorry I’m late, Boss. I had some business.”I glare at my lieutenant, and completely ignore his apology. “You can put your gift on the table over there,” I say and point to a table that’s piled high with colourfully wrapped presents.Enzo looks taken aback at first, but then he nods and heads over to the table.“That p
MadeleineThe men and women split into two groups. The guys congregate around the grill or the coolerboxes filled with beer. The women gather at their tables, in the kitchen to make salads, butter rolls, or to pour ice tea into pitchers.Rafael has a whole staff in the house, but none of them are here today, and I think it's some kind of traditional thing for the women to hang out in the kitchen. The places is crowded, the women are loud, and all of them are complaining about their husbands or children. I find it strange and endearing at the same time.“You’re quiet,” Angelica says as she dumps a container of mayonnaise over some potatoes.“I’m listening,” I answer her.“Oh honey,” one of the women, I think it’s Clara, snort-laughs at me. “You cain’t afford to be quiet. You’re Rafael's wife.”“Fiancèe,” I correct her.“Potato, poe-tah-toe,” she replies. “It’s the same difference to us. You live together as man and wife, you are man and wife.”I blush at the thinly veiled insinuation,
MadeleineThe woman with the big hair throws herself in Rafael’s embrace. I let him go and stand back, watching on as he awkwardly hugs her with one arm. “Raffie,” she exclaims and stands back, then grabs his face between her hands. “Let me look at you. Are you eating enough? Sleeping. You look sick.”Rafael sighs and rolls his eyes, but he doesn't push her away. "I'm fine," he answers and gently pulls her hands from his face.She looks like the grown up version of the girl in the portrait - only with bigger hair and a lot more make-up. I just assume she’s his sister.Out of nowhere, she punches Rafael in the arm. “You don’t call, you don’t write. I should strangle you.”“I'm sorry Angelica,” Rafael says, almost indulgently, and rubs his arm, shutting her out at the same time. “I've been a little busy." He looks around the lawn at the people milling about. "Where is David this time?”“Oh, who knows?” she answers, completely unbothered.“And the kids?”“With Uncle Frankie. You know how
RafaelMadeleine keeps the nightmares away. Her presence alone is enough. She doesn’t need to hold me, or whisper comforts in my ear. Just knowing that she’s next to me helps.I drift off to sleep and don't wake again until the sun lights up the room, and the sound of chirping birds pierces the through my dreams.For the first time in weeks, I feel rested. Refreshed. Still in pain, but I am almost my old self again. I should be able to make it through the cookout okay. I will not be drinking and laughing along with the rest of them, but I will be able to grin and bear it.Frankie can take the children out on the boat. It’s usually my job, something I always enjoy, but I have a feeling my stomach won’t thank me if I take it out on the choppy lake today.“Morning,” Madeleine chirps and comes walking out of the bathroom with wet hair and only a towel wrapped around herself.My heart jumps into my throat, and my body reacts in a surprisingly violent way. If I could move at my regular sp
RafaelI feel a lot better after the transfusion. Ethel was right, I definitely needed it. And so was Madeleine when she told me I had to get proper medical care.But neither of them will ever hear the truth from my lips.The pain is still ever-present. Betsy's kick to my gut did more damage than I thought was possilbe - a little girl like her shouldn't be able to put a grown man out of commission. Part of it is my own, stupid fucking fault. I shouldn’t have picked her up mid-tantrum. Not in my current state anyway.At some point, as I drift in and out of consciousness, Madeleine gest up and leaves the room with Ethel. It’s just me and my thoughts. I try to conjure the image of Sister Francis. The quiet, pretty, understanding girl with her gentle eyes, but she’s gone. Everytime I try to recall her, I see a blank face surrounded by the grey habit of their order.Or Sister Francis melts away, and is replaced by Madeleine.I feel as if I went through a wormhole to an alternate reality
RafaelI am pain. It’s become one with my being. It’s a part of me. At least for now.Walking down the hallway, leaning heavily on Madeleine, is like trekking through an obstacle course filled with broken glass and razor blades tearing at my flesh.God. Even my feet hurt.I didn’t know a person could be in this much pain, bleed as much as I have, and still live to tell the tale.With a sigh and a grunt, I fall on Madeleine’s bed, and just lie there with my feet dangling on the floor. Ethel is close behind, fussing over me like she’s my mother as she lifts my legs up and pulls the comforter over me.She always did like me. Even when we were children. She’d follow me around like a mama hen, making sure I didn’t fall in the water or run off to the guard house. Whenever she was around, she made it her personal mission to keep me away from the wiseguys.She was pissed when I came back. After my father’s funeral, while everyone sat around in the parlour remembering the old man, she pulled
MadeleineBetsy destroyed her room. I knew she would. Thank goodness Rafael removed everything of value from the room - including that expensive looking ballerina figurine.The pretty room, fit for a little princess as she wanted it to be, is now a dump. She destroyed the dollhouse. Her dolls have no heads or legs. The potted plant with the little pink flowers has been overturned and the dirt scattered.She shredded her bedding and tore her pillows open, scattering stuffing all over the room. The pink curtains are in tatters. On the floor, next to the room, is the pair of scissors she used to do it.I’ve never seen this level of destruction from her.Rafael is going to lose his damn mind.I’m going to lose my mind.The anger that washes over me is something I’ve never experienced before. For the first time since I’ve had to take her into my care, I want to put her over my knee and spank her.Betsy is sitting in the middle of the room, covered in dirt, stuffing stuck in her hair like l