Double Blind (24 page)

What?

“—But my life is here. My school. Everyone I’ve ever known. I can’t leave.”

“Yes, you can.”

“You can’t leave, either. You’re in a—you can just
leave
, Carmine.”

He smiles crookedly. “Well, if they want to kill me, they can try.” Carmine grunts as he stands up, pacing up and down the room. “Fuck Tony and his bullshit. After I do him, we’ll leave this place. We’ll just drive somewhere far away where nobody knows us. I have lots of cash in this place that we could live off for a long time.”

“Carmine,” I say in a louder voice. “I’m not in lov—” I stop at the look on his face.

He stands up and I can feel the heat emanating from his figure. “You don’t, but you will
.
” Carmine reaches inside his jacket, pulling out a gun. “I can wait for as long as it takes.”

Fuck.

My fists ball at my sides. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Carmine gazes down at me, bewildered by my stubbornness. “Do you realize what I’ve fucking done for you? I betrayed the Rizzos so that I could be with
you
. Because I love you, and you’re the only person who can make me into a better man. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you—everything with your family. Why can’t you just fucking see that?”

What the fuck is he talking about?

The gun waves in his hand and I duck out of its sight, scrambling off the couch to hide from him. His loud footsteps corner me against the wall and I let out an ear-splitting scream as his gun wavers near my head.

CRACK!

The front door blasts open and Carmine slams into the wall, his arm outstretched. I throw myself on the floor as holes the size of craters explode near Carmine’s head.

“Mother
fucker
!”

I can’t see anything in the house from the floor, can’t hear anything but my own screams. What the fuck is happening? Who is shooting us? On my hands and knees, I crawl behind the sofa. I rest my back against the couch and flinch horribly at the sounds of them exchanging gunfire. Picture frames shatter and cheap plaster blows from the walls like chunks of white confetti. I inch my head above the sofa and see Carmine pinned against the wall, shooting at the open door.

Suddenly a hand lands on my shoulder and I scream. Carmine wheels around with his gun and I raise my hands. An explosion bursts my ears and the body behind me crashes into the floor with a thud. I look at him.

A dark-haired man whose face I know very well is screwed up in pain, a dark hole burning through his shoulder. His gun lies on the floor next to his hand.

“Fuck,” he mouths.

“Vince!”

No, no, NO!

I swallow his wound with my hands. The blood pools around it immediately, staining my hands. A rough hand grabs my shoulder and shoves me aside. Carmine aims his gun.

“NO!”

I tackle his legs with every bit of strength inside me and he stumbles backwards. Then I position myself over Vince’s body and Carmine looks at me with poison in his eyes.

I will not let him die. I will not.

“Carmine, I love him. Please don’t—
please don
’
t kill him
.”

His face twists in fury. “I fucking saw you first!” he screams. “I knew you. I knew your mother.”

Behind me, Vince sits up against the couch and tries to push me aside. His fingers still brush over the gun, but Carmine is so upset that he’s completely forgotten about it.

“What—what are you talking about?”

Vince leans forward, I feel him against my back. “He killed your father. He collected payments—”

A hole explodes into the sofa right next to his head, missing him by inches.

“Shut the fuck up.” His face is red, strained, but he doesn’t deny what Vincent said.

The man in my nightmares who dragged his knife across Dad’s throat is him? Carmine? I don’t believe it.

“I don’t believe it.”

He looks at me with the same tortured look he gave me when he told me about killing his mother. “It was a mistake, Adriana. I was in love with your mom. I just wanted us to be together.”

It’s absurd. I can’t believe it. My father died because some lunatic thought he could have my mother.

“You were in love with my mom?”

“She—she was always nice to me when I went over there. I was a boy, and I made a terrible mistake—”

“You killed him!” I scream suddenly. “That wasn’t a fucking mistake! You selfish, piece of shit. You ruined my life!”

Remorse fills his face until Vincent groans painfully and then rage thickens his features. He shoves me to the side as he buries his gun against Vince’s forehead.

“It’s all your fucking fault. Why can’t you just fucking go away? I gave you up to the fucking cops, and you’re still here. How?”

Vince looks at Carmine square in the eye. “You don’t want to kill me. You want Tony. He set you up.”

A forced grin stretches his face. He nudges the gun. “Go ahead. Spin your little fairy tale.”

I force myself to remain calm. When I look at Carmine, I’m filled with disgust.

“It’s true, Carmine. He forced me to end my engagement to Vince to get closer to you because they knew all along that you were talking to law enforcement. They wanted me to find proof.”

An anguished look spreads over Carmine’s lined face as he steps back, looking from me to Vince as if to catch us in a lie.

“I didn’t find out until recently, but Tony told me himself. He’s the one who has been jerking us all around for months. He needs to die.”

Vince makes a face and I turn towards him. His entire sleeve is soaked with blood and I press down on the wound.

I kissed my father’s murderer and actually liked him in the beginning. I hate myself.

“How could you do this to me?”

The tone of betrayal in his voice makes me angry. A throb of rage combines with the grief I still feel over my dad.

“You killed my dad. We’re even.”

Carmine chokes and momentarily lifts his gun as he grabs the sides of his head, looking deranged. “I can’t believe this.” Then he points the gun at us shakily. “You both should die.”

“I had no choice. Please let us go!”

“Do you love him?”

I freeze beside Vince, acutely aware of the gun pointed to my chest. I grasp Vince’s hand and my eyes squint, waiting for the explosion—for sudden death. For some reason, my brain has calmly accepted this.

“Yes, I do.”

The anguish on his face makes me feel a little guilty. He looks down at his feet for a moment and a spasm of energy moves through his body. He raises his gun and aims it at Vince, who scrabbles for handle of his. Vince shoves me aside when I move my body over his, and another horrible
crack
splits the air. Vince falls on his side and I see smoke spiraling from Carmine’s gun.

Crack. Crack.

Vince fires from the floor at an angle and Carmine screams as it cuts into the side of his face. He dives into the kitchen as gunshots blast from Vince’s gun and then I hear the sound of a screen door opening and rapid footsteps.

Then I hear nothing but the sound of Vincent’s haggard breaths, and the ticking of the grandfather clock.

From the moonlight in the kitchen, a pool of darkness spills around Vince’s body, which remains so still that if it weren’t for the sound of his breaths, I would think he was dead. Then his eyes—his beautiful, dark eyes that I love so much, slowly close.

CARMINE

I yank the parking brake and hightail it out of my house before the cops come. Neighbors will have heard the shots and I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want to be anywhere.

My heart feels like it’s been torn apart. It’s so painful that my chest shakes with sobs as I drive down the street. She hurt me. She destroyed me. I ran out of my own house like a coward, because I couldn’t stand to see the hatred on her face. I meant nothing to her.

I just want the pain to fucking end. All my life, I’ve been a fucking joke with women. My own mother treated me like I was scum, and every woman since her has done the same thing. The same thing always happens to me.

You
’
re not worthy of love.

I’ll just fucking drive my car to the bridge, jump out, and hurl my body over it. That’s it. I don’t want to live anymore. This crushing sadness. The aching, endless drip of loneliness with no end in sight. I’m done with being humiliated, crushed, and led on. Wasn’t I nice to her? Wasn’t I always?

Smashing my fist into the car radio makes me feel better. I pound it until shards of plastic stick into my skin, bleeding.

She was a fucking cunt to lead me on. I feel like such a fucking loser.

An image of her clinging to him, begging me to spare him, burns in my mind. Their love for each other was plain as day. It was so obvious and incredible, that it made me feel so small in comparison.

I just wish
I
had that.

Ashamed, I ran from them like a fucking coward. With any luck, that fucker will bleed out and then she’ll feel the pain I’m in right now.

Bitch.

I pull my car into the empty parking lot next to Coney Island boardwalk and I get out, slamming the door shut. The salty breeze whips my hair and I gulp air down as if I’m drowning.

I have no idea why I drove here. I don’t even remember driving.

My eyes are drawn to the giant Ferris wheel, which is lit up merrily against the night sky.

“
Carmine, let
’
s go!
”

“
But I want to play. Why can
’
t I play with the other kids?
”

“
Cause you
’
re a nasty, spiteful little boy. I
’
m protecting the other children by keeping you away from them.
”

My heart aches. I internalized it and cried alone in my bedroom. I wished I were good so that I could play with the other kids. Why did I have to be born so evil?

The oceans roars in front of me and for a moment I consider running into the waves with open arms to let it consume me.

Fuck suicide. My eyes steam with a vision of Tony, laughing his fat ass off when he realizes what he’s done to me. The vision mingles with my mother throwing her head back in shrill laughter.

I’m a monster. I’m no good for anyone.

Then if I’m a monster, I’ll be the worst kind possible. I’ll find Tony and kill every one of his supporters. They may not have been involved in Tony’s plan, but they were just as untrustworthy.

I only fucked over people who were going down anyway, with the exception of Cesare. Why the fuck would Tony care I was feeding shit to the cops about him? Didn’t he want the Vittorios dead?

Then I’ll get rid of Adriana and Vincent. They humiliated me, and they need to die.

If I’m going down, they’re all fucking going down. I don’t care if I die, but I will not go down as some kind of loser. I will be feared. They’ll respect me—all of them!

My hand shakes as I return to the car and open the door. My hands hover the steering wheel, whitened with rage except for the tiny flecks of blood where I smashed in the radio. It’ll be hard to get to Tony, especially when he’s always surrounded by people. I have plenty of guns in my trunk. I could get my semi-automatic and open fire once I get inside. I might die in the process, but I have nothing to live for anyway.

I start the car and pull out of the boardwalk, driving carefully down the streets. The last thing I want is to attract attention.

He could be at a number of places: the deli, his house, the bar he owns, the casino, the restaurants. I glance at my watch. At this time, the fat fuck is probably stuffing pasta down his throat.

I drive down to Jersey City and I think about crashing my car into the restaurant. What will I do after I kill them? Take off? A violent whirlwind of thoughts keeps me from making a decision. I don’t know what to do, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about living anymore. I just want to cause the people who hurt me as much pain as I fucking can before I go.

I park on the other side of the restaurant, and from here I can see Furio guarding the entrance. Bending over, I slide my semi-automatic into my jacket carefully, and then I clutch the handle of my knife.

Time to die, assholes.

I cross the silent street of this crumbling city and my eyes lock on Gambini’s, the restaurant. Smiling, I approach Furio as my right hand twitches by my side.

“Carmine, the boss has been looking for you.”

I embrace his thick shoulders with my left hand while my right hand grabs the knife in my belt and stabs him between his ribs. It enters him silently as Furio gives a strangled gasp. He sighs when I pull it out and I stab through the muscles several more times, feeling his warmth gushing over my hands. Then I step back and allow him to collapse to the concrete, knife still clutched in my hand. The blood covering my blade reminds me of strawberry jam. I smile at that and kneel down, wiping it off his trousers.

“Sorry, man,” I say to the dying guard. I have no beef with him, but sometimes that’s how it goes. Oh well.

I peer inside the restaurant and smile. No one noticed anything. I’m like a fucking ninja. Securing the knife back inside my belt, I grab my semi-automatic.

Visualize it.

There are guys everywhere, but I can get them quickly if I focus. I see myself firing at each person in rapid succession; their bodies flailing as giant holes explode in their body. Adrenaline runs through my veins and I take a shaky breath before I casually open the door. The guard by the door sees me, recognizes me. I extend a hand with a smile.

He reaches for it—BAM. The hair trigger gets him immediately. I turn around before I see him drop to get the two others across the room. The rat-a-tat of gunfire fills my ears as I get them quickly, and then I turn towards Tony’s table. He’s surrounded by his capos. Bullets fly in my direction but I stand up straight and unleash my fury on all of them. Blood sprays the checkered tablecloths as every captain flies in the air, smashing into tables nearby. I walk closer and barely flinch when their gun nozzles flash at me. Blood and brain matter sprays into the air like pink mist. Holes gouge into the walls and when I stop, the restaurant is deadly silent. Death is quiet.