be very proud of you, Lorenzo.”
“Proud?” I stumble over the word. That single word isn’t something my father would’ve ever said. Even at the ripe age of five, I remember him being hard on me. Screaming and pushing me. A five-fucking-year-old kid… Like I knew better.
“Yes, proud, he would’ve loved the young man you hav—”
“That I’ve become? The person he wanted me to be?” I’m angry, and as the air filters into my lungs, I still feel as if I’m not getting enough of it.
“Well, yes, in a way…” All I can do is stare at him, shaking my head. I’m overwhelmed with the urgency to slaughter someone or something. Anger isn’t something I know how to handle well. Lately, I’m never in control, which makes my life harder.
“This is the man my father would’ve wanted me to be, I’m sure…” I laugh.
“All I meant is he would be proud—”
“Proud of what?” I bite out.
“You. The man you have become. I know your father wasn’t a good man, but he loved your mom. Almost the same as you love Amara. He never looked at that love as a weakness, he valued it above all. Something not many men in his position would. He would have been proud of you embracing the love you have with Amara.” Dazed and confused by his admission, I sit there slightly shocked.
“My father loved my mother, even I saw it when I was just a child, but he didn’t love her enough to end his behavior. In the end, he ended up dead.”
“Listen to what you just said very carefully,” he emphasizes the last word like it holds all the meaning in the world. Then he gets up and slips from the room.
Amara’s words from the diner linger in my mind. “Everyone has a choice, Enzo. Everyone has a chance to change things for the better. Your past doesn’t define you, and without a future path outlined, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
It seems James knew I needed someone to talk to, and he knew just the right thing to say as well. It’s as if he knew my father’s death could’ve been stopped had he made the right choice. Now it’s my turn to make the right choice. I can make the same mistakes my father made, or I can be better.
Letting go of the mafia was never a choice before. I haven’t even considered the possibility. What would I even do? Where would I go?
I try to imagine a future without the mob, and I come up blank. The only constant thing in my mind is Amara. No matter what I do, she’ll be there, I’ll make sure of it. The question is, how happy will she be if I stay? My heart knows what it wants, but my mind tells me something else. The day was coming…
My phone ringing in my pocket pulls me from my own thoughts, and as I stare down at the caller ID, my mind takes a different turn.
“Eli,” I growl. I’m still pissed about what he and Amara did. I knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but the fact he knew where she was for hours before contacting me is not easy to let go.
“Lorenzo, you don’t sound all that happy,” Eli mocks. I can tell from the sound of his voice that he has a smile on his face. Asshole.
“What the fuck were you thinking? You should’ve called me right away.” I all but yell into the phone.
“Chill out. It’s not like you came barreling down the street for her. She needed time to breathe. Even I could tell that,” he replies in a manner that makes me uneasy. What has she told him?
“Fuck, I know. Why do you think I wasn’t right behind her? That doesn’t give you the right to just take her wherever. I was losing my shit, you’re lucky you didn’t find yourself on the receiving end of my blade. On my way over there, I was contemplating murdering you.” My hand is running through my hair so fast, I fear I might be bald by the time we hang up.
“Tsk, tsk, Enzo. Don’t forget, I’m the one helping you out. I had the right to do whatever I wanted. I didn’t hurt her or tell her anything she didn’t need to hear.”
She didn’t need to hear? What’s that supposed to mean?
“What are you talking about? I haven’t lied to her about anything, asshole, and don’t fucking talk to me like you