You are Mine (3 page)

Jonathan resisted the urge to look down at
Brunetta. She said nothing, but he felt the fine tremors in her
shoulders. He sat up. “No, Alex. It’s not what you think…please…let
me explain.”

“No explanation necessary, Johnny-boy. And,
oh yes,” he said before pausing for effect. And then the horrific
smile was back. “It is exactly what I think.” He had been moving
slowly towards them the entire time, and now he reached the bed. He
directed his gaze and a predatory smile toward Brunetta. “I am
correct, am I not my dear?”

Jonathan looked down at Brunetta. She only
had eyes for Alex, and as if mesmerized, she nodded her head as he
nodded his. The appalling parody of a snake charmer mastering his
snake sickened Jonathan even more and he silently began reciting
the Holy Rosary, skipping over the Apostles’ Creed and the Our
Father to recite five Hail Marys instead of the traditional
three.

Alex’s smile widened. “Ah, honesty at last,
my dear. I applaud you.”

Brunetta’s smile in return was edged with
desperation and clearly fraudulent. If he were able to move,
Jonathan would get on his knees and beg her forgiveness, for he
knew she thought she had a chance of swaying Alex from whatever his
plans were. What she failed to understand was that at this
juncture, nothing could. Any chance for clemency was lost the
minute Alex had found out about her plotting. He kissed Brunetta
with quivering lips and in an apologetic voice that was shaking
with regret, shame and resignation, said, “I’ll get you the best
care I can af-after. I-I promi --”

Before Jonathan could finish, Alexander had
gripped Brunetta by her shoulders, urging her from the bed. And
like a remorseful child trying to please, she did as he silently
commanded.

“Come, my dear,” Alex said and guided her
over to the window. Frozen with horror, Jonathan watched as with a
hand between her shoulder blades, Alex pushed -- just
pushed
her -- through the floor-to-ceiling pair of windows. Brunetta
didn’t even have time to instinctively reach for safety. She was
just…gone.

Staggered, Jonathan listened to his
girlfriend fall forty feet and knew instantly that he’d be hearing
her scream in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

“Jonathan.”

Jonathan looked over at Alex and could tell
from the expression on his brother’s face that he’d called his name
more than once. He stared at him, knowing that he should say
something, but also knowing that words weren’t adequate. He
swallowed, licked his lips, wondered if he were dreaming.
“You…you’ve…I thought you would only…” He trailed off and looked
away in confusion. His gaze latched onto a painting on the wall.
The swirling colors and illogically placed objects of the
surrealist work matched his mood perfectly.
Hail
Mary,
full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed--

“Come, baby brother.”

Jonathan looked at Alex again. His arm was
held out in welcome, beckoning him over to the window.

Jonathan flinched and looked away again.
“No, thank you,” he said in a stifled tone.

“Are you sure?” Alex asked as he looked
through the shattered glass of the window. “The red of her blood
looks smashing against the blue Spanish tiles below. Oh, my, an
unintentional pun.” He chuckled softly as he continued to look down
at his handy work. “Did you know,” he mused with a thoughtful frown
as he finally turned from the window, “that that patio tile was one
of the main selling points of this villa for me? And that it played
a significant role in my deciding to lease the place?”

Jonathan was looking at his brother again,
but not really seeing him. Brunetta’s scream -- all it had been was
one, long drawn-out horror -- was echoing over and over again in
his head and intermingling with the Apostles’ Creed, which he’d
finally gotten back around to. He heard nothing else. His mind was
in chaos. She was dead. His brother had killed her, and he himself
hadn’t saved her. How would he and his brother get on now? Who
would take care of Brunetta’s boys? Who would take care of her
mother? Who would run the frog hospital? He smiled and wondered how
the author had come up with such a great title for a book. He
hadn’t read the novel, but had always liked the title. He had
several copies at home in Boston because each time he was out and
saw it on a shelf he couldn’t resist purchasing it.

Who would run the frog hospital?
Hmm. I wonder how the author resolved it.
I’ll have to
finally read the book when I get home. That’s it. I’ll go home to
Boston. Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy
kingdom…
He felt a hard, brief slap on his cheek. Alex was now
standing over him. Jonathan met his eyes disinterestedly.

“She lied to you, you know.”

Jonathan tried to jerk his arm away from his
brother’s sudden touch, but Alex just held on, his nails digging
into the flesh. Jonathan didn’t bother to react, and focused his
gaze on the wall again.

“Look at me, Jonathan.”

“I loved her and you killed her.”

“Yes,” Alex said and shrugged, “but what was
I supposed to do? She was a threat, and I dealt with her like I
would any other threat.”

“She never said --”

Alex was smiling again. “Come now, baby
brother. We both know that she was leading up to that very
suggestion. You kill me, and take over the business.”

“But you know I wouldn’t have --”

“No, of course you wouldn’t have, Jonathan.
I know that, but I didn’t kill her only because of her trying to
come between us; I killed her for you as well. She was using
you.”

Jonathan shook his head wildly in denial,
even though he’d come to that very same conclusion. Tears sprang to
his eyes. “She wanted me,” he insisted and thumped his chest.
“Me!”

“She was married, Jonathan. She and her
husband set you up. Most of that jewelry you bought her was pawned
in Naples almost as soon as you gave it to her. They’ve been living
off you for months. I’ve known about it for a little while, but I
thought you’d figure it out. When you didn’t and I realized the
bitch was trying to get you to stage some kind of coup, I decided
to just take care of her. I took care of him, too -- hours ago. I
didn’t touch their whelps, though. You know how I feel about the
little ones. I’ve always had a soft spot for them.” He paused and
seemed to think about something. “Well, I almost had her little
sister killed because she’s sixteen and right on the cusp of
adulthood, you know. I reasoned, however, that she’d be required to
care for her nephews when the elderly mother dies, which I imagine
she will soon do. Let’s hope she hangs on long enough for the girl
to learn caretaking skills, though, because it’s the only reason I
spared her. No, I couldn’t hurt the little ones. They are
innocents,” he murmured contemplatively.

Jonathan had begun to come out of his stupor
and he noticed that his brother was seemingly unaware of the affect
of his words. He stared up at him as he began speaking again.
“Start packing up, baby brother. We’re leaving for Mexico in two
days, which is another reason why I had to bring your pathetic and
disappointing chapter with Mrs. Ricci to an end.”

Still saying nothing, Jonathan watched as
Alex walked to the door, opened it and stepped across the
threshold. His gaze was still on the door when Alex poked his head
back around the corner. Unblinkingly, he listened as Alex said,
“Oh, one more thing, Jonathan. You must get rid of that woman’s
things -- every little scrap she might have left behind. There
can’t be any trace of her in this room. Just give everything to
Craig. He’ll know how to dispose of them properly.”

The door closed, and after staring at it for
a few more minutes, Jonathan dropped his large head in his hands --
unsure if he was going to sob or scream.
Hail Mary, full of
grace…

TWO hours later Alexander Brickman looked up
as a large shadow fell over the dinner table. He’d decided to eat
on the loggia off the dining room that evening, and his brother was
currently blocking the rays of the fading sun as it set behind him,
highlighting the brilliant blue of the Tyrrhenian Sea.

He raised a brow in question when Jonathan
stood staring at him without speaking. “Sit,” Alexander finally
commanded when a few minutes had passed with Jonathan remaining
silent.

“No. I just came to talk.”

Alexander paused only briefly in
fastidiously buttering his bread. “Well, I’m eating, so either join
me, or wait until I’ve finished.” He took a bite of the bread and
then went back to the report he’d been reading before he’d been
interrupted. There was a bit more silence. Oh how mightily you
seethe, Alexander thought with amusement. He then heard the wrought
iron of the chair scrape against the ground as Jonathan yanked it
away from the table.

Alexander raised his brow again, but didn’t
look up. Jonathan cleared his throat a few times in a bid,
Alexander assumed, for attention, but he ignored him and continued
reading. Though he didn’t show it, this new side of Jonathan did
give Alexander pause. It appeared he was trying to break out of his
mealy-mouthed squishy brother role and trying to grow a backbone.
Alexander wasn’t sure if he approved.

“Alex.”

His expression bland, Alexander gave
Jonathan his attention. “Yes?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“So you announced.” He took a sip of wine,
closed his eyes, savored the rich taste on his tongue, swallowed
and slowly raised his lids to look at his brother again.
“Speak.”

“You shouldn’t have done it, Alex. You
shouldn’t have killed Bru -- her.”

Alexander noticed that while Jonathan’s gaze
strayed a bit from his, for the most part his brother looked him in
the eye. He studied him until Jonathan was squirming in his chair.
His big face turned red, but he still did his best to keep eye
contact. Alexander sighed and neatly folded his napkin before
placing it on the table. “You can’t even say the treacherous
bitch’s name, Jonathan. She was a manipulative whore who deserved
no less than death, as did her husband. Please don’t tell me you
think I lied about her sins?”

“No, of course not.”

Alexander sat back and stared at his brother
some more, knowing the effect it would have. “Excellent. Because as
you well know I don’t have to lie, nor do I need to give
explanations for my actions. I only did it because I knew that for
some incomprehensible reason you cared for this woman.”

Jonathan fidgeted. “It’s only that --”

“Tell me, baby brother,” Alexander
interrupted in a seemingly placid tone, “how else should treachery
be punished?”

Jonathan shrugged and Alexander resisted the
urge to smash his face in. Even as a child he hadn’t liked being
second-guessed. Fingers tightly gripping the stem of his wineglass,
he waited for Jonathan to answer.

Jonathan’s voice was now faint with
uncertainty. “I could have…well, I could have broken up with
her.”

“Ah,” Alexander said and the sound was full
of satisfaction, “but you didn’t, did you, baby brother?”

“I didn’t know she was married until you
told me.”

“But you knew she wanted you to attempt to
get rid of me, and you did nothing.”

“I was trying to…I wouldn’t have let
her…”

“I heard you time and time again put her off
-- oh, you didn’t know?” Alexander smiled now and chidingly, “Come
now, Jonathan. You’ve been with me for almost a year. You should
know me well enough by now to know that I make sure I know
everything that goes on in my residence, wherever that may be.
Surely you didn’t think you had any privacy? I protect what’s mine,
Jonathan. But as interesting as I am, I don’t have all day, so
let’s get back to you. Yes, you tried to dissuade the woman, but
she never did stop bringing up my fall, and your presumptive rise
to power.”

Jonathan went beet red again and again,
Alexander felt the triumph flow through him like a powerful
elixir.

“That would have never happened, Alex.’

“Oh, that was never in doubt, and not only
because of your loyalty, either; emaciated though it may be.”
Jonathan looked away and Alexander smiled thinly. “Now that that’s
settled, would you care to hear about our next trip?” he asked
pleasantly.

Jonathan nodded jerkily and in defeat.

“Excellent,” Alexander said and placed his
folded napkin neatly on the table. Now while this place has been a
lovely sanctuary from those who would try to destroy me, it’s time
I get back to the business of doing business. We’re headed to the
coast of Mexico.”

“What’s in Mexico?”

“Not what, but
whom
, dear brother. I
have a new friend there. His name is Miguel Guerrera. We’ll be
staying at his family’s compound.”

Jonathan frowned in concentration. “I know
that name from somewhere.”

Amused, Alexander chuckled. “Of course you
do. Who doesn’t? Actually, people are more likely to be familiar
with his brother’s name.”

Jonathan suddenly snapped his fingers.
“Francesco Guerrera! The Guerrera Cartel! He was arrested just a
couple of months ago, right? That’s right. It was big news because
he was caught by some sheriff.” He snorted out a laugh. “Big cartel
chief, head of a billion dollar drug empire gets nabbed by a
small-town Arizona sheriff who was out on routine patrol.” He shook
his head before asking, “Why, Alex? Why are we getting involved
with them?”

“Why because the poor man is lost without
his brother and is looking for a little help and experience north
of his border, and because I’m being so generous, I’ll get a
toehold south of the border and I won’t be limited to the eastern
part of the United States anymore. Adding Guerrera to what I
already have will substantially increase my bottom line, and allow
me entry into California, Arizona, Texas and Nevada. Why should I
let the Mexicans have such a profitable pie all to themselves?
After all, it’s our fellow Americans’ unquenchable need to alter
their realities that’s responsible for all the lucre.”