Page 15 of Pocketful of Us
"Burned into his flesh by Cal. The mark borne by the son of a family traitor."
"Except that hewasn'ta traitor's son," Pres hissed. "He was three years old, dammit – an innocent fucking baby!"
"By the time I finally persuaded Cal to give you to me, you had forgotten your own name. You had no memory of me or your parents. You didn't speak, nor could you eat with utensils. You even had to be potty-trained all over again." He released a shaky breath. "You were four years old by then."
"Jesus Christ," Presley growled. "Sick bastard."
"I'm not entirely sure of what happened to you for that year, Jacob, but IpromiseI did everything I could to get you back as soon as I could."
"How?" I breathed, keeping my head in my hands, too fucking traumatized to look anywhere but my own lap. "How'd you convince him to let me go?"
"To be honest, I think the novelty of terrorizing you had worn off by then. He had all the power in the world and Raffaele was rotting in a prison cell. He had finally bettered his greatest competition and was in the throes of relocatingCosa Nostrato the states. He was so focused on taking the business to new levels that you were more of a hindrance than anything else. Besides, there was no pleasure in torturing the son of his enemy when the son didn't remember his father." He sighed heavily. "In all honesty, I believe that he grew bored of you, Jacob."
"Then why not kill me and get it over with?" I demanded brokenly.
"He may have lost interest in playing a leading role in torturing you, but you can be sure that Cal still took pleasure in watching you suffer, Jacob," was my father's answer. "Just a little bit. Every day. Enough to satisfy the hatred festering inside of him."
Every inch of my body rattled and shook.
He was telling the truth.
I could feel it.
And still, I couldn’t take it in.
I couldn’t let myself remember.
"He reveled in your misfortune, Jacob," he told me. "In knowing that he had everything that was rightfully yours and there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it."
"And Romi." Her name spilled from my lips before I had a chance to register what any of this meant. "He took Romi."
"And Romi," Dad confirmed sadly. "He dangled her like a carrot in front of you and then snatched her back time and again."
"I loved her," I croaked out. "Istilllove her."
"I know, and it's not your fault that you could never see beyond the girl, Jacob. You were programed to worship her. She was your intended before your father's fall from power."
"When you say intended," Presley began to say, looking green. "You don't mean…"
"Betrothed," my father filled in.
"Yep," Pres whimpered. "He went there."
"Two powerful Catalinian families were to become one when he took her as his bride. It took seven days of negotiation before Raffaele agreed to the pairing."
"Arranged marriage?" Presley gaped in horror. "In twenty-first centuryAmerica? Between babies?"
"No, not America; Italy. And not babies. They were to marry on Jacob's sixteenth birthday," Dad replied. "He is two months younger than Romi. And it was a good match, too. As close to perfect as I've ever seen. It would have been a prosperous partnership."
"Goddammit, Chris Capaldi junior, you're a good-looking S.O.B, but your entire family is nuts," Presley muttered to himself with a shake of his head. "You've sure left me in one hell of a pickle buddy. Thanks a bunch."
"I did my best to protect you – to raise my cousin's son as my own." Coughing violently, Dad licked the blood from his lips before adding, "To protect both you and Chris while still giving you some semblance of a normal life. A family. I know it wasn't easy for you growing up, Jacob, not with Cal watching your every move and my wife's constant condemnation, but I tried." He exhaled raggedly. "In the end, it looks like I failed you both."
"You let Cal take her from me," I squeezed out, feeling woozy and faint. It was too much to take. All of it. I couldn’t process. "Romi." Breathing hard, I tried to find the words I needed to make sense of my thoughts. "You let him give her to Chris when youknewthat I was the one who was in love with her." Rage. It was coming hard and hot now. "You watched Cal give my brother his blessing to be withmygirl, and you never once stepped in. You didn’t stand up for me, Dad. You just… let him take her away from me. Romi. My Ro. The only thing I ever had –"
"Believe me, I wanted to," he hissed, sounding pained. "But Icouldn’t."
"Why the hell not?"
