Eyugho<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\nWhen he looked back at that moment, Demos couldn\u2019t recall if it hurt. All he could think of was the color red, the bead of blood at the end of his finger as Victor pulled back the needle. Even in the dim light of the room it was vivid\u2014crimson.<\/p>\n
There were no windows in the meeting room at Ristorante Giorgetti, leaving a few candles the only source of light. It was difficult to see the faces of the other men at the table, but Demos knew them by heart. Every capo in the family, including his uncles Victor and Roberto. And the head of the family at the head of the table\u2014Gino.<\/p>\n
The evening had swept past in a blur. Suited up, ushered into the back room of the restaurant. It had only been a day ago that Demos had been in a dingy motel room, prying a molar from an open, trembling mouth. Now he was standing beside his uncle who had taken his hand, then pricked his fingertip with a thin, clean needle. Demos tilted his hand, letting the bead of blood run down the side of his finger.<\/p>\n
His eyes fell to the table, where a single card had been laid in front of him. It was the sacred likeness of a saint, a modest man in brown with a songbird in hand. <\/b>St. Francis of Assisi. Slowly, Demos drew his finger across the image, smearing a bright streak of blood over the muted colors of the illustration.<\/p>\n
With a breath, he lifted the card. It only took the faintest touch of the candle flame before the corner began to burn.<\/p>\n
\u201cGiuro di essere fedele a cosa nostra,\u201d Demos said as he watched as the flame slowly consume the card. The bloodied saint warped, then crinkled black. \u201cPossa la mia carne bruciare come questo santino se non manterr\u00f2 fede al giuramento.\u201d<\/p>\n
The card dropped onto a glass ashtray, curling into itself with one last flicker. But before the flame could die, the doors burst open with a clack<\/i>.<\/p>\n
\u201cGino!<\/i>\u201d cried the figure in the doorway. Light flooded the room and every eye turned toward the man in the doorway\u2014his foul grimace barely visible in the dark of his silhouette. Alonzo.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis one?\u201d Alonzo spat, a single finger pointed straight between Demos\u2019 eyes. He was sweating, panting for air. \u201cThis meticcio<\/i> before your own brother?\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a scrape of wood and Demos glanced sideways to see his grandfather stand.<\/p>\n
\u201cStai zitto. I\u2019m giving you one chance, Alonzo,\u201d Gino said, his voice steady. \u201cClose the door and leave.\u201d His eyes gleamed against the invading lamp light, their brilliant blue set directly on his brother. \u201cOr speak again and see what becomes of you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alonzo spat onto the floor. \u201cHe\u2019s<\/i> the one keeping me out? Do you know how many years\u2014how many decades<\/i>\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cThe only one who has kept you out is yourself. You and your hubris and the weak spine that struggles each day holds your failing body upright.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alonzo said nothing, only staring as he fought to catch his breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou call my grandson a half breed, yet you\u2019re hardly half a man<\/i>.\u201d It was Gino\u2019s turn to point. He gestured out the door toward the entrance of the restaurant. \u201cLeave. You are not welcome here now<\/i>\u2014\u201d His glare tightened. \u201c\u2014Or ever<\/i> again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m your brother<\/i>, Gino!\u201d Alonzo seemed to have found his voice and it resounded across the small meeting room. \u201cYour own brother!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are a memory I\u2019ve already forgotten.\u201d<\/p>\n
Every chair at the table creaked as the men in attendance stood at Gino\u2019s sides. Their eyes hadn\u2019t left Alonzo\u2019s face, only watching\u2014waiting.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2014\u201c Gino said. \u201cAre gone.\u201d<\/p>\n
Alonzo\u2019s hands had tightened to fists, shaking. There was blood in his eyes, something smoldering behind them. He let out a single hard breath before speaking.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you, too,\u201d Alonzo said. \u201cWill be a memory.\u201d<\/p>\n
The doors slammed shut, and he was gone.<\/p>\n
Demos could still see the outline of Alonzo\u2019s figure against white, even when he looked away. The drumming of his pulse seemed loud enough to reach every corner of the room, pounding against the inside of his chest while his eyes struggled to focus.<\/p>\n
His gaze found the ashtray. The gust from the door had snuffed the fire, leaving only a tiny corner of the card unscathed.<\/p>\n
A trace of white nestled in a pile of ash.<\/p>\n
#<\/p>\n
Whether it was a manor, a restaurant, or a 32 meter high performance motor yacht, Demos almost always found himself in the kitchen. Even when it was his own party. Or\u2014especially<\/i> when it was his own party. Per Giorgetti tradition, Gino had hosted a small open sea get-together following his grandson\u2019s initiation.<\/p>\n
La Veloce was a steel hulled yacht featuring six cabins and four decks. Wood grain and gray hues lined the interior, each surface dimly lit with soft lighting. The upper deck held a fully functional kitchen where Demos had been tucked away for the last half hour. It was a tight but elegant space\u2014steel and marble with a view of the dark sea outside. Evening had settled over the water, making the warm glow of the ship even more lucent.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m surprised you\u2019re hiding away in the kitchen,\u201d Ferris said. There wasn\u2019t much room in the narrow galley kitchen and he was doing his best to stay out of the way.<\/p>\n
\u201cFelt like too much attention.\u201d Demos was stirring onions and garlic in a saucepan at the stove. He had been on the yacht enough times to know it was fitted to counter the sway of the sea. If anything spilled, it would be his own fault.<\/p>\n
Ferris leaned back onto the cabinet behind him. \u201cBut you love attention.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTrue. But I love being alone with you more,\u201d Demos said with a smile. Heat rose in Ferris\u2019 face and Demos bit his lip to hold back a laugh. Sometimes it was too easy.<\/p>\n
The case of \u201cbeing alone\u201d didn\u2019t last long. A third figure entered the narrow kitchen, this one in a light gray suit. The owner of the ship.<\/p>\n
\u201cNonno,\u201d Demos said as his grandfather kissed each side of his face. The same gesture his initiation had concluded with.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh,\u201d Gino said as he pulled back. \u201cSome oil escaped your pan.\u201d<\/p>\n
His grandfather was looking directly at his face, meaning a droplet of cooking oil must have found his cheek. Gino reached inside his jacket for a handkerchief, only to find it empty.<\/p>\n
\u201cHm.\u201d He patted his other pockets with no luck, then offered his grandson a smile. \u201cMust have misplaced it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Just as Demos began to wonder if his grandfather had ended someone\u2019s life and forgotten about it, Gino reached up to rub the spot off with his thumb.<\/p>\n
\u201cEnjoy yourself, Piccolo,<\/span>\u201d Gino said, his smile holding. \u201cI can handle the cooking.\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cAs soon as I finish the polpetti.\u201d Demos returned the look. \u201cLo prometto.\u201d<\/p>\n
Gino gave him a nod then returned to the main deck\u2019s lounge. The moment he was gone, Demos\u2019 attention fell back on his saucepan. It was nearly done.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere.\u201d Demos held a cooking spoon of tomato sauce up toward Ferris. \u201cTry this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris shot him a wary look. \u201cSince when have I had any say in your cooking?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you going to help me or not?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris gave in, leaving his post at the cabinets to lean in for a taste. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully before he started his verdict.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s\u2014\u201c He paused then glanced down. \u201cOn my shirt.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos winced and set down the spoon. \u201cShit, sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sure enough, a bright red spot had landed directly on Ferris\u2019 otherwise white shirt. It seemed Demos had spilled something after all. And there was no blaming the roll of the ocean\u2014not on La Veloce. It was his fault.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere should be some shirts in the master cabin,\u201d Demos said as he turned off the stove. \u201cI\u2019ll show you.\u201d<\/p>\n
The master cabin was on the main deck as well, at the bow of the ship. Demos took his partner by the wrist into a side passageway, then slipped into the privacy of the cabin. The room was lit by a thin track of lighting around the overhead, the gleam falling on a modern suite set out in neutral grays and whites. The door slid shut behind them.<\/p>\n
Demos crouched at a dresser and began to shuffle through the drawers. \u201cI think there was one your size here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI heard what happened with Alonzo,\u201d Ferris said as he unbuttoned the stained shirt. It seemed Ferris had been waiting for a moment alone to bring it up. \u201cI guess we don\u2019t need to prove anything since, well\u2014he took care of it himself.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d was all Demos said. That moment had been replaying in his head the entire evening. The look in Alonzo\u2019s eyes, his words. \u201cAnd you, too, will be a memory.\u201d Something about it gave him a chill, one that reached the darkest depths of his chest. But there was nothing to be done about it. Alonzo was gone.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere.\u201d Demos straightened himself, handing his partner a folded white button-up. \u201cThis should fit.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris slid out of the old shirt and reached for the new one. \u201cSo, how do you feel? Now that you\u2019re made.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos folded his arms. \u201cLike I can do whatever I want.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou always do whatever you want,\u201d Ferris said with a flat glare.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re right, I feel the same,\u201d Demos said. He reached for the shirt as Ferris pulled it on, buttoning it for him. \u201cBut\u2014I wouldn\u2019t have made it this far without you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know about that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s true.\u201d Demos was quiet for a moment. The final button fastened and he rested a hand on Ferris\u2019 chest, simply holding it there. \u201cI\u2019m just\u2014I\u2019m glad you\u2019re here. I don\u2019t know what I would do if I lost you again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou won\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
The next thing Demos felt was two hands holding his face. They looked at each other in the silent cabin before Demos leaned upward. He closed his eyes, drawing Ferris in by the shirt. Their lips had nearly touched when a sound froze them in place.<\/p>\n
The door slid open with a clack<\/i> and Demos could hear a familiar voice behind him.<\/p>\n
\u201cBenny? Are you\u2014oh<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
He turned to see Gina staring at the two of them from the doorway with a twitch in her wide-eyed glare. Her eyelids tightened in distaste before the door slammed shut, leaving the two alone once more.<\/p>\n
\u201cShit,\u201d Demos hissed between his teeth before darting out after her. He threw the door open, chasing her shadow around a corner. She had made her way onto the deck outside, reaching the railing before he finally caught her arm.<\/p>\n
\u201cGina\u2014please<\/i>.\u201d Demos looked up at her, his eyes pleading. \u201cI know you hate me, but please<\/i> don\u2019t tell them I\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
A hand on his shoulder stopped him. The ice had left her gaze, replaced by something he had never seen on her features before. Her eyes had set directly on his own, tired but sincere. Her fingers tightened and then\u2014<\/p>\n
She pulled him into her arms, her embrace tight\u2014warm. His breath caught and he could only stare forward as she spoke against him.<\/p>\n
\u201cDemos,\u201d she said, her voice low. \u201cI\u2019ve never hated you.\u201d She let out a slow sigh, the sound almost lost to the wind over the sea. \u201cI just find you to be\u2014immensely<\/i> irritating.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos\u2019 stare flattened. \u201cThis was almost a nice moment,\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n
She pulled back, keeping her eyes on his. \u201cAlso, it was very obvious.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRight.\u201d<\/p>\n
Gina glanced over Demos\u2019 shoulder. Ferris had caught up and she greeted him with a look of pity.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt seems he\u2019s caught you. My condolences.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you,\u201d Ferris said with a defeated smile.<\/p>\n
Demos huffed and crossed his arms. \u201cHey, fuck you guys.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, you\u2019ll keep this to yourself?\u201d Ferris asked, ignoring Demos\u2019 protest.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course,\u201d Gina said. \u201cAnd I appreciate you never bringing up Nadia.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris stared at her for a moment. \u201cWhat about Nadia?\u201d<\/p>\n
Gina\u2019s thoughtful look dropped to something more callous. \u201c\u2026Nevermind. You idiots deserve each other.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris gave a helpless shrug. \u201cShe\u2019s not wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n
Despite the casual turn of the conversation, Demos\u2019 heart hadn\u2019t stopped pounding. Gina had surprised him with her mercy, but it could have been anyone who walked in on that cabin. He had been careless. So caught up in his affection that he\u2019d almost lost everything. One the day he was supposed to have gotten it all.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd this,\u201d Gina said, gesturing to the stern of the yacht where the celebration was still going. Charged with the sound of chatter and wine glasses. \u201cI told you, didn\u2019t I?\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos could still remember it. Gina in the back of that car, reminding him of the reason Victor was never easy on him. The reason he\u2019d had to earn every ounce of respect the hard way. Her tone when she had said, \u201cSo sit up. And think about how fortunate you are.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d He looked back up at her, his lips flattening as he fought the urge to smile. \u201cYou did.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
by Eyugho When he looked back at that moment, Demos couldn\u2019t recall if it hurt. All he could think of was the color red, the bead of blood at the end of his finger as Victor pulled back the needle. Even in the dim light of the room it was vivid\u2014crimson.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-725","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-02"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-bH","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/725","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=725"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/725\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":727,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/725\/revisions\/727"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=725"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=725"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=725"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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<\/p>\n