“My wife, how is our boy?” He cradled my hand in both of his, massaging the tired digits. The touch wound its way through me,weaving through my shoulders. Each sweep of his fingers wiped away built tension.
“Your little monster refused to sleep all day. It’s like he was put on this earth to torment me.” I complained, my throat tightening at the thought of Antoni asleep on Paolo’s shoulder. My eyes pricked with a sudden rush of fierce tears, and longing slammed into me so hard it stole my breath.What if he woke up and I was gone?He was still so young. He wouldn’t understand why I wasn’t there. I grappled with the illogical desire to return to the house, bundle Antoni close to me before he found me missing.
“Anita, what is it?” Romeo refused to let me go, pulling me into the shelter of his arms. Where the most embarrassing thing happened.
I burst into tears.
Romeo froze, his eyebrows darting above his black hairline until they disappeared. I sagged against his chest, the hot flood mortifying me to the marrow of my bones. My thoughts were jagged puzzle pieces, a sharp, confusing mess.
“Oh god, I don’t know why I’m doing this.” I cried into his chest.
His arms weighed me to him and I bristled at his soft laugh. His hand coasted over my messy bun, tucking a few loose strands behind my ears.
“You’re exhausted, and you need a break. Even though it’s the last thing you want. You haven’t slept a full night in months, refused to nap during the day. I can feel how tight you are, how close you are to snapping.”
A sharp retort heated the tip of my tongue. I was close to whipping it at Romeo when I swallowed it like medicine. It was a bitter tonic, cooling my tear-streaked outburst until it petered off into tiny hiccups. I wanted to lash out at Romeo, to cover the shame of my outburst. Romeo would let me; he’d take it all with a stern expression, perhaps trade a few well-placed barbshimself, but we would arrive here in the end. The haven of each other’s arms. So, I swallowed the harsh words and spoke the truth instead.
“It’s harder than I thought. To feel so much, I don’t know what to do with all the emotions, where they’re supposed to go. What if I stay like this? What if I cry at the drop of a hat forever?”
Romeo didn’t offer answers or solutions, just a shallow bay for me to shelter in. I listened to the steady thump of his heartbeat and marveled at his wordless management of me. The writhing lines of panic calmed, neutralized by his patience and silence. He cleared his throat, and I tipped my head up to look at him.
“There isn’t anything wrong with loving hard, Anita. You feel the same way about Paolo and me, as well as a few others.” I wrinkled my nose, thinking of the sparse others I considered ‘friends’ like Merissa and Maria. “But the other feelings, I can help with those. You need an outlet and I think it’s time to return to the Anita I love and admire. Greenich Bay needs The Gardener.”
He wrapped his arm around my back and ushered me into the cell, where two men were tied chairs. I spun on my husband with a glare.
“You let me cry in front of people?”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. They’ll take your lapse to their grave, but not before they tell me what I want to know first.” Romeo smothered a smile, walking over to one side of the room where a table was set up with a line of metal instruments. He picked up a scalpel and waved it at the cringing man. Both of them wore blindfolds, one stained red through the white material and duct tape over their mouths. I noticed the metal table set up on the opposite side, a jug of water, and several bottles and vials lined up. A slow smile spread over my face, and my insides bubbled with excitement.
“Is this what I think it is?” I gasped, almost skipping to my table. Romeo let out a bark of laughter, twirling the scalpel. His gaze was a warm spring I wanted to sink into.
“I thought we could have a little competition.” His lips quirked. “We haven’t had a date since Antoni was born, and we have both been so busy lately. We deserve to have a little fun, something to take our minds off our son’s allergy to sleep. So whoever can get their man to squeal first wins? What do you say, wife?”
The lines that crinkled when Romeo smiled were my favorite because I’d watched them grow and deepen. The well of emotions that had cascaded earlier now bubbled like a river brook. Trickling from an endless source. Thirst quenching, ever invigorating. I picked up a vial of fine white powder, tilting it to examine the consistency.
“You planned a torture date for us?” I knew my eyes had stars in them; could feel them floating like buoys in a tempest. He puffed out his chest, ripping off the duct tape with a grin. His captive groaned, hanging his head down. A frisson of excitement ran through me as I did the same, the sound of the duct tape like a harmony.
“Does my surprise make you happy?” Romeo’s biceps bulged as he made a shallow cut along the man’s collarbone. I turned my attention to the poisons on the table, flushed with burgeoning desire to win. A hunger for it coursed through my veins, and the tiredness dragging my steps lightened.
“I adore you.” I tossed the casual words like a grenade, enjoying the way Romeo’s cheeks flushed in response. “What information are you wanting from these guys?”
Romeo ran the flat of the scalpel over the man’s cheek, and the way he narrowed his eyes was doing something to me. He was delicious danger, with his sharp cheekbones and malevolent smile.
“I want to know why you thought you could run your drugs through our fucking town. This is Greenich Bay. The Orazios own every inch.”
The Donatos didn’t count. Their territory was negligible, no matter how they might try to pretend otherwise. The man babbled his apologies, excuses, prayers, anything to stall the pain Romeo was about to rain down on him. It wouldn’t work. He was only prolonging the inevitable. I unplugged the cork on one powder, investigating its off-white hue.
“Did you take the labels off these on purpose?” I mixed half a teaspoon into a glass of water, ignoring the way my guy whimpered. Romeo pressed the point of this scalpel into the apple on his man’s cheek.
“I had Paolo help me out if you hadn’t guessed. And yes, of course, I unlabeled them. If I didn’t, you’d have him singing in ten minutes. I need an advantage, wife.”
I bit back my smile and got to work. Even with the labels off, it took me less than thirty minutes to make my guy cry out a confession. I turned to Romeo with a look of triumph, my body thrumming with an energy I hadn’t felt since well before Antoni had been born. I’d been subsisting from moment to moment without even realizing it.
“W-we were offered protection. They promised us we would have monopoly.”
My guy’s lips were blue as he spoke his last words. His eyes darted to the side but scrunched closed as Romeo sliced his thin, boning knife through his captive’s throat. My husband knew I’d beaten him.
“Who offered it to you?” I pressed, waving the ‘antidote’ I’d promised him. A glass filled with water, nothing else. But he didn’t need to know that. He eyed it with glistening fever. I’d untied one of his wrists, and his palm turned upwards.
