Animus (5 page)

He was rigid again. “Spread your legs for me bella.”

Again she acquiesced.

He moved close, holding his dick, rubbing gently against her vaginal slit, feeling her softness, wanting to fuck her hard but couldn’t. She was not like the other girls. Lucia Peglesi had yet to know boys. It is in the innocent eyes he saw uncertainty from someone untouched. He did not penetrate her walls, only teased the lips which moistened in response. He raised himself to feel in his drawer for a rubber, his hand went limp, and perhaps she did not fully understand what she did in that moment as she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them together. His hands pressed against the bed over her head and he cursed, “Merda che non ha aspettato!”

He had gained his equilibrium but his weight had pressed the girl’s buttocks to the mattress. He had
fully penetrated the novice and she held him so tight and he throbbed from the joy of her womanly breasts cushioning his massive chest that he did not withdraw. In excitement he sucked her nipple and she arched her hips forward and he pleasured her more. She clutched his dick, far tighter than any girl before. He taught her the joy of sex in different positions. He could not get enough of Lucia Peglesi and in the heat of young passion; he ejaculated many times and did not care of anything beyond the moment.

The love torched him and his eyes fluttered rapidly. Then the image of a woman with syrupy skin, a
micio of molasses more sweet than any he’d tasted made him cum –hard. He shout, gripped the edge of one of the posts with sweaty hands. The force of the emotion seizing his body resulted in a spontaneous combustion that collapsed Giuseppe and then wood broke in his hands.

His comatose mind felt a sudden ache. He could not verbalize why. Everything became darkness. What he thought was real, was fractured memories of the past, present and future colliding during a medically induced sleep.
He was not aware of a mother, holding his hand as his eyes rapidly blinked.

CHAPTER FOUR

Maria rushed upstairs at the sound of a child’s cries. The babies were asleep. Allie on the other-hand required medicine to help her rest. She passed Sal in the hallway as he headed toward the bathroom with the glass of orange juice for his cranky sister and entered the little girl’s room, sat the glass atop the nightstand and then touched the small forehead. Ah, she was hot to the touch, fever had set in. She measured the cherry flavored fever reducer and put it to the girl’s lips. “Come niña, drink for Nana.”

“I don’t want it Nana. I want mommy.”

“Mommy will be home soon. Take a sip, por favor.”

Allie drank with a wrinkled nose. “It’s nasty.”

“Yo se, but it will help make you better.”

It was not long after the child finally closed her eyes and the house
became quiet for the first time all day. She covered the girl and then went to check on Sal just as the doorbell rang. Maria checked the hall clock. It was after nine. Who visited at this hour on a Sunday night?

Sal was still awake playing his video game in bed when she passed his room. “Go to bed Salvatore.”

“I can’t sleep.”

Maria huffed. “Turn off the light and put the game away and maybe then you will,” she answered as a male voice filled the house. She recognized Bruno’s gravelly voice. She wagged a finger at her grandson who was too much like his father before heading downstairs to find out why Bruno had come.

Anita was standing with him in the living room. The woman’s expression looked as if someone had died. “Senora Maria, madre de dios, something bad has happened.”

Maria looked from Anita to Bruno who stood with his hands clasped like an undertaker in front of his suit. His eyes did not falter from her face.
“Maria, I have come to tell you Alfonzo was shot but he will survive his wounds.”

“Que?” Maria choked out
. It took a second for the remainder of the sentence to form. “And …Selange…is she okay?”

Bruno’s eyes were downcast at the mention of the young woman she considered a daughter. “She…is hurt but not dead.”

“How badly?” Maria shouted, unable to tolerate the suspense.

“She was in surgery when I left. I do not know any more.”

Maria’s hand cupped her mouth to stifle the cry. Her eyes looked up at the stairs as she thought of the children.  At the top of the staircase Sal stood clad in pajamas, too tall for a boy his age, too smart for someone so young, but a child nonetheless, evident by the words he shouted to Bruno. “You’re a fucking liar. My dad would never let anything happen to my mom!”

“Salvatore –oh Dios!” Maria wailed when he rushed downstairs.

His attempt to attack Bruno in a fit of rage was foiled when his grandmother caught him in a bear hug as he screamed, “I’m calling Uncle Geo. He’ll tell me the truth!”

Bruno did not respond. The boy was upset.

Maria wrestled the boy, for a mature woman it was a herculean feat. He jerked and flailed in an apoplectic fit. His sorrow was strong and she bled for her grandson. “Sal stop it, ahora!”

“Nana. I don’t believe him, he’s lying!”

Maria’s breasts heaved excitedly. The boy was overly distraught. She had never seen her grandson like this. He made a dash for the door when her arms slackened. Bruno intervened, stopping him before he ran outside to the dark. “Calm yourself, giovani.”

Maria’s loving embrace
comforted a frightened boy and held him still. “Salvatore…sweet boy…your mama and papa taught you to be strong, no?”

Sal’s blue eyes were running tears. His mouth was an angry line like his father as he tried to be brave but it trembled from the effort. “Nana, I need to see my mom and dad…they need me.”

“Nana needs you, tambien.”

A boy’s arms went about his grandmother and he cried like a heartbroken child. She soothed the boy, rubbing his hair, thinking of her son and praying for his wife.

Bruno did not move. She saw his pain. It is the eyes which stared at her with love that gave her strength. “I will stay until morning, but I must return to Palermo,” he said softly.

Maria nodded. Once Sal was asleep she would have Bruno tell her everything. There were
n’t any words to describe her sorrow. Alfonzo and Selange went to Italy for a christening. They were due home tomorrow, that was the plan, and instead they were hospitalized because of bullets. She was strong, because in New York, many mothers undergo such sorrow as a way of life. But, this evil touching their lives was not the creators doing. It belonged to the ills of man. They warred and brought misery in times of love. She added a prayer for mankind. Lost they were…and vile.

CHAPTER FIVE

Selange heard her name. The voice belonged to that of a long-time friend. The sound was nice to hear, especially when the company of guards and machines in a sterile environment for the infirmed is not where she wanted to be. On a plane, going home to her children is what she and Al were supposed to be doing, until gunfire altered their plan.

“Hi,” Shanda said when her eyes opened and Selange focused.

Shanda held Carlo, which Selange found strange under the circumstances, but she didn’t comment. Knowing Shanda, the woman was petrified of letting the baby out of her sight after the shooting. Carlo looked happy and Selange smiled. “Hi.”

Shanda frowned. “You gave me a scare. I thought you were dead.”

“Me, too.”

“Thanks for keeping Carlo safe.”

“Like I wouldn’t?”

There wasn’t a grin or a wise-crack. Shanda’s severe expression remained. “I’m going back to Brooklyn. I can’t do this; I came to say thank you for protecting Carlo and I’ll always love you.”

Selange’s face tightened. She had heard these words before from Shanda. The day her mother was murdered; a day she needed her friend most and instead Alfonzo had stepped in to fill her place. Shanda opted for the easy way out, yet again. She was burrowing into a hole to hide from life. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes, my parents are here. I’m going to stay with them for a while.”

“And what about Giuseppe…what about Carlo’s father…huh?”

Shanda was dead serious when she said, “I love him but Carlo’s who I have to protect.”

“Shanda…is this you talking or your parents…did they convince you to go
?”

“Girl, they’re speaking the truth. A good mother
shouldn’t subject her children to bullets and craziness for any man.”

Selange gasped. Her abdomen hurt during the action. “So, you’re implying I’m a bad mother?”

“No…no…I’m not saying that.” Shanda back-pedaled when she recognized the offense.

“You know something Shanda, you’re a grown woman. If you want to run home to mommy and daddy every-time life gets real, then go right ahead. One minute you want independence and the next you’re acting like a child. And for your information I’m a good mother. I love my children and their father and unlike you I would never run out on Alfonzo when he’s
injured. And, if I were to leave with his children, I wouldn’t do it when he’s incapacitated, I’d do it when he’s standing and healthy, like a real woman!”

“Selange–”

“Don’t Selange me…go… get out of here Shanda. Hide, but every day when you look in the mirror, I hope you see what a damn coward you are!”

Selange pushed her face in the pillow because she didn’t want to hear any more from the spineless hussy, she also didn’t want Shanda to see her tears. Shanda was a selfish, self-centered bitch to do this to Giuseppe…to Carlo…and to her!

The door clicked shut; the heffa actually left. Selange growled and leaped with the pillow, perched to toss it at the door when Nico stepped in. “Hey…whoa…did I do something?” he asked and she lowered the flimsy weapon.

“No Nico, I’m just upset.”

His mouth tugged downward at the corners. “Join the party kid. How you feeling because you gave me a helluva scare?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine.”

“Then why were you about to toss that pillow?”

“Women stuff.”

“Shanda’s parents are waiting in the lobby, I guess she’s high-tailing her ass out of Dodge, huh?”

“She’s wrong to do this…I’m sick to death of her!”

“Everyone handles things in their own way,” he offered in consolation, which was rather weak even to his ears. He didn’t understand Shanda either, fickle ass woman. She projected a tough attitude but the woman lying in bed with the softest disposition was a real warrior and Shanda, well, Nico considered her weak.

The tension began to dissolve. “I suppose.”

Nico gestured for the bodyguard to leave. He needed to have a private talk with his only female friend. The moment the soldati exited Nico claimed a seat beside her bed. He saw the bloodshot eye and gave no outward indication of concern, injuries like that he’d seen before and they were often worse in appearance. The doctor already confirmed the blood would clear and she’d have no problem with her vision. Confident she was on the mend and completely alert, he relaxed and folded his hands on his knee. “Ari had the baby.”

“That’s wonderful Nico, congratulations.”

“Thanks,” he said as she repositioned the pillow and reclined. He just had a long talk with Ari prior to visiting Selange. Their baby was doing great and mother and child would be discharged tomorrow. He arranged for his family to go to his exclusive villa in the province of Cefula. She would be safe there and away from the paparazzi swarming the hospital for pictures of the Giacanti’s. Thankfully, her parents would accompany her and stay for a few days before going home. A pair of bodyguards would guard his family until….he gave a quiet sigh….until word was sent.

For some reason Selange’s presence had a therapeutic effect. Maybe, it's because they shared a love of the arts and spoke unguarded about their love of such things. They hadn’t shared one moment alone since learning of the twin’s paternity. That was fine, but there were times he missed their easy conversations. “Do you need anything?”

“Can you heal my husband, Geo and the others and change the series of events?”

His eyebrows furrowed. Last night he had wondered the same thing. If he’d killed his mother and her husband, would he have stopped the carnage? “No, I can’t.”

“Then family is all I need.”

Fond eyes twinkled. “You never cease to amaze me kid.”

“Why is that?”

“Not many women can handle this life, especially one who
wasn’t born into it.”