Survivor (The Soul Mates Series Book 1) (20 page)

*****

Ross

I drank.

I drank some more.

And I drank until there was possibly more alcohol in my system than blood.  It was the only way to chase away the karma that was devouring me.  Karma that I’d wasted years on a job which guaranteed you a life of loneliness and unhappiness.  They do not tell you that shit when you sign on.

Dad was AWOL for a period of time when I got back, I’m not sure how long, but the days drunkenly stumbled into each other.  I didn’t ask where he’d been and he didn’t offer any explanations.  Like me, he was missing Cara, it didn’t take a brainiac to see he’d come to care about his mouse and that he blamed me for losing her.

I recognized the silent reflection he was going through because I’d seen it before, after my mom had died.  Unlike him though, I didn’t have anyone else relying on me to work through the pain, good fucking job really.

Work chased me constantly and I could have gone back, but then I found out that good old Terry Lowe had retired.  He didn’t do the decent thing and trip away into the sunset with the disgrace he deserved, no, he fucking soaked it up.  The lying cock sucker got a huge retirement payout and a fabulous party to celebrate his illustrious career.

Fuck.  That.

Give the rest of my life to the ATF knowing they’d been in the thick of it all, I’d rather blow my own head off than eat that shit every day.  That was the last day I held my shit together and remained partially sober, just long enough to type and mail a resignation letter.

Jonas kept in touch, I knew he had more details about Cara’s death, but I felt like I didn’t deserve to feel the loss that a true partner should feel.  I’d betrayed her, I’d not hunted her down to keep her safe and my penance was living with that every day for the rest of my life.

Thankfully the possessions she’d left at dad’s place were minimal and nothing worth actually keeping.  I was glad about that, reminders were killing me.  I kept the windows closed for as long as possible in my bedroom to try and retain her smell, her essence, but after a while it made me feel sick to my stomach.

I saw one article about her funeral, a procession and send off fit for a Hollywood star.  Her ashes were buried with her mother’s.  The L.A. times called them ‘business owners,’ the grieving family were pictured looking solemn and at that point I was a minor defcon level away from dusting off my sniper skills and putting the balance of things right.

“Son, this shit can’t continue,” my dad said during one of our many nights of zero communication.  I’d got into a routine of knocking back a case of beer and then sleeping it off until it was time to repeat it the next day.

“What do you suggest I do?  Security at the seven-eleven?  Undercover intelligence at the diner?”  I whipped back sarcastically.

“Stop feelin’ sorry for yourself.  You can’t change it and so far lettin’ it eat you up ain’t working either.  There’s plenty of shit that needs doing round here.”

“That’s your shit, not mine.”

“How about we make some of this your shit?  There’s a chunk of land out back, have it, build a place and put down some roots.”

That was a strange notion.  In reality when he said ‘chunk of land,’ he meant fucking acres of it.  I wasn’t violently opposed to the idea, but I lacked the motivation, what would be the point?

“I’ll do you a deal, help you build a place, turn your mind to something useful and if it don’t feel right when it’s done, we’ll sell it.”

“I dunno,” and I really didn’t.

“I’d give you until the morning to decide but the lumber is already ordered and being delivered then.” He got up and left me with a sunset and a few more beers to think it over.  After a while the only thing I could see was the sun shining on the hillside, illuminating the cabin like a flashing beacon begging me to make a decision.

Dad nor I had been up there since she’d… gone.  I still couldn’t say the word died because I didn’t feel it in my heart yet.

It was going to be one last trip up there to say goodbye.  Then I’ll build a house and see if I can start over and settle into some kind of life.

I shuffled up the hillside and followed the path, all the while being constantly haunted by memories.  Her fucking voice counting numbers was loud and clear inside my head and driving me insane.  Maybe this was a shit idea.  It wasn’t making me feel better, it was making me angry and worse than that it was making me upset.

I wondered whether my dad survived my mom’s death because he had time to prepare and come to terms with the inevitable.  I wasn’t afforded that warning, I’d given up and then she’d been yanked from my life.  I didn’t understand how I was supposed to square it all off so I could carry on, with so much left unsaid.

I’d promised my dad I wouldn’t go after the Acerbi’s, the old fucker laid a pretty convincing guilt trip on me.  In a nutshell, he’d lost my mom, lost his mouse and all we had left were each other.  He told me that he didn’t think he could survive waiting for them to show up with news of my passing, because I’d been chasing revenge and courting my own death sentence.  I reluctantly agreed, but knew that fate would gift me some opportunity if I was patient and waited.  Time was all I had left now, so it was game on.

The cabin was the way we’d left it when I’d forced her to come and stay with me, nothing homely and no massive reminders to slap me in the face.  This was a waste of time, there were no memories to comfort me and cobwebs and dust covered most things.  I regretted coming up here, I’d get nothing out of this, just another waste of my time. 

It was getting dark and I didn’t trust myself to wander back down the hill half soaked in beer so I kicked off my shoes and lay on her bunk.  I thought about the nights she’d spent up here alone, dreading the fate which took her in the end.  I listened to the insects and animals living life as if nothing had changed.  I watched the clouds float past the moon and prayed that I’d find some strength from somewhere.  I just wanted to feel like me again, I wasn’t after miracles.  I just wanted to find the will to carry on, I was fucked off with feeling empty and lost.

I must have dozed off.  I woke up with a dry mouth, the usual after effect of beer, all cotton balls and furry and in desperate need of water.  I grabbed a glass and let the faucet run clean for a bit before I took my fill of refreshing mountain water, nothing finer.  Looking back at the bed, I spotted something peeking out from under it.  The item drew me back over there, I was keen to see what we’d missed when we’d left.  It was an old dog eared copy of Horton Hears a Who by Dr. Seuss.

That fucking weirdo was what started all this shit in the first place.  I sat down again debating the destruction I wanted to give into, I was considering whether to burn it along with the fucking cabin, until curiosity got the better of me.

I open the first few pages, touching places she’s touched thousands of times before.  It’s about a stupid character who swears he’s heard something, but it came from something so small, you can’t even see it.  He knows he’s heard it and feels it’s his duty to save it from harm.

Figures.

Reading on I discover that no one believes him and they begin to mock him and ridicule him so that the rest of the jungle want it gone.  I find myself shaking my head at the irony of reading a children’s book that sums up Cara in a nutshell, especially when Horton knows that it’s true but he can’t explain why.  As I turn the last page, I spot the inscription:-

To Antonia, Happy Burpday, Love always, Guiseppe xxx.

I grit my teeth until I can’t hold it in anymore and an unearthly noise bursts out of me as I begin to sob.  Everything I’ve been fighting to control and maintain is undone by a children’s book and simple gift inscription.

How did he become so fucked up that he turned into the devil and took her away from me, leaving me in this fucking hell, where he should be.

I cried in sadness that she’d kept something given to her by someone so dear, yet she was terrified of him.  When my tears finally abated, I knew that this was part of my journey, finally finding the book was a sign.  I’d keep hold of it for the future until it was time to use it and by use it, I mean, roll it up and ram it down Guiseppe Acerbi’s throat while I watch the life die from his eyes.

Now I had a plan.

Now I had some purpose to keep going.

Revenge.

But first I had some time to kill, so fuck it, I may as well build a house.

“Are you fuckin’ stupid? The girl’s terrified about seeing you anyway, thinks you’re gonna kill her.  So just how did you think bringing out her dead mother to greet her was gonna go down?”

I could hear Sam shouting.  I could wake up at any point, but doing that would mean coming to terms with the years and years of grief that I’d gone through for nothing.

“Would you both please be quiet, she’s stirring.”  Her voice was like an angel.

“How… How are you here?” I whispered, opening my eyes.

“My beautiful Antonia,” she said it with Italian inflection I remember so dearly, “Your brother is an ass and will apologize for how this went down later, but first, let me look at you.”

That did it.

My brother.  The Bad guy, was here somewhere so I bolted off the sofa straight to Sam.  If I was next to him I had a fighting chance at making it through whatever was going on.

“Toni,” my brother finally called, “I mean you no harm, please don’t be afraid.”  He was talking to me like I was a child with learning difficulties, his palms raised in a surrender pose.

“Mouse, sit with me.  Hear him out, my promise still stands.  He blinks fuckin’ wrong and I’ll make his face look like a Cyclops Halloween mask.  After that we can leave.”

“Can I have a glass of water please?” I needed to get passed the shock of this, I had a feeling that I was about to learn some stuff that would require serious concentration.

My brother returned with the water and sat in the seat opposite me, next to our mom.  She took his hand in hers, offering support and urging him to begin.  “I can never tell you how sorry I am for the way your life turned out.  I knew things would come to a head but I hoped like hell you’d be where I could see you, talk to you and not on the run with some Fed.”

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” I snapped.

“I made a decision when I was younger, I knew when I left college mom was going to fight our father about me joining the firm.  I’d also seen and heard enough to know how that level of dissention from a female would be received.  There was only ever going to be one outcome.  I engineered it so that I could fake her death at my own hands and give her the freedom I knew my coming of age was going to cost her.”

My mom continues to squeeze his hands in support and it shocks me how close they are.

“Our father thought she knew too much, her gift was a hindrance that he couldn’t quash, I stepped in and mom has been here ever since.  In doing so, I put myself in the spotlight and have lived a life that will send me straight to hell.”

“How noble of you to fall on the sword,” I bite at him.

“I don’t expect you to understand, but you know,
you know
,” he whispers, “what I’ve done.  Mom only agreed to go if I made it my business to shut him down and keep you safe.  The others,” he said, referring to my brothers, “are fine.  For the most part I shield them from serious criminal stuff, any part they play is minor and it was going to stay that way until you fucked it up.”

I felt my temper bristle and so did Sam, “Steady now boy, do not let my age fool you into thinking I’m not agile enough to take you on.”

“Our father doesn’t concern himself with the others, I’ve gone above and beyond to prove I’m his only choice of heir.  I was gonna pack you off in some fake marriage and then slowly break you free, but that wasn’t enough for you.  You wanted in and I begged you to reconsider.”

He did, like everything else, I remember the great defining moment speech.  “You could have told me.”

“I fucking couldn’t.  I wasn’t sure about your loyalties.  You’d lost one parent and you were showing signs of desperation for attention from the one you had left.  Turns out I was right, you were so desperate you offered your ass on a plate and became his accountant.”

Guiseppe is shaking his head in frustration and all I feel is dismay.  Never have I felt the urge to punch someone as much as I do right now.  “I hated my life, I was a prisoner.  You could see that and you didn’t help me.  Extreme frustration led me to take extreme action.”

“Well, what’s done is done.  You should know I’ve been keeping you safe since you left.”

“Safe!” I screamed, “I’ve been terrified.  I didn’t sleep for months.  I still have nightmares.”

“That may be, but you’re still alive.  I’ve been purposely feeding fathers search and destroy team dud information.  Unfortunately, Vale got a tip off about a new mark whilst I was out of town and he headed over to your little redneck retreat before I could do something.”

“Careful boy,” warned Sam again.

“Vale told me he’d been to check it out himself and I knew it was no coincidence, especially after I’d already bumped into your Fed at the strip club.  I knew then you were changing the game and forcing my hand.”

And there it was, the reason why he’d made the Seuss contacts, a warning that they were closing in.

“Every action and gesture has two sides Antonia, I face darkness everyday and I try to atone by facing the sun, doing something good.  I set my own course and fate, but by saving mom, giving my soul for her life, I tried to balance the scales.  But you, you were a promise I had to keep.  I promised our mom that I’d keep her special angel safe, so please forgive me for all that you’ve been through, it’s nearly all over.

“What do you mean?” I didn’t know where he was going with this, but I could see he was working up to something.

“Death.  Your fate will be the same as mom’s.  For all intents and purposes you will die,” he told me seriously.

“What! No! I don’t want that,” I shouted, leaping from my seat.

“Now just hold on a minute, that was just an option and nothing was agreed,” Sam intervened.  Alarmingly, this had already been discussed.

“Think about it Toni,” he pleaded.  “I’ll fake your death, you can stay here for a while.  Six months, a year maybe and I’ll officially get you registered as someone else.  I’ll present your death to our father and the dogs will stop hunting you.”

I didn’t want to do this, but I was struggling to see a different way out.  “I need some time to think.”

“Of course,” mom said, “the guest accommodation has been made up.  Stay tonight and we can discuss it when you’ve slept on it.”

“I’m staying too,” Sam confirmed.  He wasn’t leaving me here, like he’d promised.

“I expected you would,” Guiseppe told him dead pan.

Sam and I left for our rooms and I knew my mother was disappointed, she wanted to spend more time with me, but my head needed the freedom to work this out.  This was a massive decision, a momentous one and I wasn’t about to let reconnecting with her sway my thought process.

I’d had just enough time to visit the bathroom before a knock sounded at the door, “I’m sleeping on your floor.  He may be your blood but the majority of what runs through that boy’s veins is still bad juju.” Sam told me, pushing into the room.

“I’m more than OK with that and you can use the couch.”  I lay on the bed and started my thinking routine.  My head flipped every permutation, scenario and probable outcome.

“Mouse, maybe I can help.  That mumbling thing you do is your way, but talking shit out is mine. What’s working up there?”

“Ross.”  It was one simple word that said so much.  “He already thinks I’ve run away.  It’s already bordering an impossible feat for me to try and put things right.  But after I’ve died, in six months, twelve months, it will never happen.  I can’t expect him to get over that and take me back.”

“Agreed.  If I’m honest, the Feds working on the wrong side of the fence will be watching his reaction.  If he doesn’t fall apart when you die, it’s not believable.”

I know he’s right, but I don’t like hearing it.  In the very beginning when I started this it was all about me.  Running to get a life for me.  If I went back and defied the offer being made, just to be with Ross, I’d be making his life all about me and what I really wanted was our life to be all about us.  “Do you think I can trust my brother?”

“Your momma is still breathing, so evidence would suggest it’s not a bad gamble.”

“Can I make it back?”  Old Sam knew what I was asking.  If I did this, did I have some chance at getting my happily ever after.

“Honestly Mouse, I don’t know.  Besides his momma, my boy hasn’t lost anyone else he cared about.  Jonas tells me he’s in bad shape.  The heart hardens after that kind of hurt, it would only be natural for it to protect itself from feeling that a second time.”

“I’ve already caused him so much hurt, maybe it’s just best to let him live his life.”

“Only you can make that decision, but two things I do know.  Ross or not, you’re always welcome at my door and if you’re still running you are as good as dead anyway.  That kind of trouble always catches up with you, law of averages.”

“So there isn’t really a choice,” I sighed.

We’d both gotten a few hours of rest.  I was on the verge of making a decision, but fear caused by knowing I was going to lose something I loved either way wasn’t helping.

I’d run to get a life and I’d found the one I wanted, but now I had to give it up.  Maybe it was better to keep running and enjoy every day to the max.

Who knew?  I really didn’t.

My mother had laid a full breakfast table, none of us had eaten the night before, anxiety had ruined our appetites and I was starving.

Guiseppe arrived last, he was dressed in a suit like a character from reservoir dogs.  The sight of him made my breakfast churn in my stomach.  It was too stark a reminder of the Guiseppe from my nightmares.  “It’s just a costume Toni,” he said, sensing my disgust.  “I have to play my part for the greater good.”

“What’s the greater good?” I enquired.

“Wait it out until father really retires and then change the direction of family business or turn state’s evidence.”

“Boy, those are not really choices,” Sam chipped in around his mug.

“Why not?” I was starting to get swamped with confusion.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t lie to me.  No more lies,” I retaliated.

It was Sam who answered, “It means his future looks hazy.  He changes the business direction and people lose money.  Legal shit does not pay like crime does.  So folks see a cut in wages and he’s the reason.  If he rolls over and becomes states evidence he’s technically just painted a target on his back.”

“Like I said, I have a part to play and will do what it takes to get through those pearly gates.  Enough about me, what have you decided?”

Decision time.

All eyes turned to me.  “I don’t think there is a choice really, I think I’m going to die.”

After breakfast, I spent some time with my mom, her life wasn’t confined to this house, she was a cook at the main ranch house a couple of miles away.  I learned she’s made great friends who helped her come to terms with living again after making the decision to leave her children.  She was in a relationship with a ranch hand and it sounded like she loved him.  Her life had changed so much, she’d gone from gangster’s moll to appreciating the very simple things in life.

The only way I was going to get through my enforced death sentence was to see myself as my mom.  She’d given up so much and put her faith in God, that one day she would be reunited with the people she’d tried to protect by leaving.  Mom told me that even if that never happened she was still thankful that she was alive and well.  I had to do the same.  Pray that Ross and I could work through the decision I’d made alone and if not, understand and come to peace that the decision I’d made had kept him alive and breathing.

I could do this, I could see this plan through for the right reason.  I wouldn’t dwell on losing Ross, I’d focus on giving us the chance to have the ‘one day’ we’d both dreamt of.

When Guiseppe left for work that morning, he took Antonia Acerbi with him.  

She died that day and I was no one until Cara was formally reborn.  And in an effort to remain close to Ross and with Sam’s permission, I took the surname I’d dreamed of having for real only days ago.

Cara Wilkes was who I chose to become.