My chest sank.
He was wrong.
I was terrifying.
I was rage, weaponized. A monster they kept on a leash. But for him? I’d be soft.
“Yeah?” I said. “I just eat a lot of meat.”
He nodded like it made perfect sense, hair flopping over his forehead. Carefree. Untouched. Just the way I wanted him.
“I like a good steak,” he said.
“But not too cooked.”
“Never.” His horrified look had me laughing.
“I love you, Louis.”
The air left my lungs.
It hurt just to breathe.
“Love you too, little buddy.”
I kept rubbing his ears like the world was still okay.
Like Mom hadn’t been murdered a year ago.
Like we weren’t hiding in Italy, caught in the middle of a war.
When I leaned down to kiss his cheek, I prayed.
I never prayed.
We were Catholic, sure. But I hated the church. I hated the lies. I hated the rot beneath the altar. I would’ve burned it to ash if I thought it wouldn’t hurt him.
Family was the only truth left.
And he was mine.
“Night, little buddy.” I kissed his forehead, stood, and turned toward the door?—
That’s when I saw it.
Red.
Not mine.
A laser.
A dot.
Trained on his head.
Footsteps ensued. They weren’t hurried, they were measured, calculated, whoever was there wasn’t in a rush, they knew exactly what they were doing and wanted to do it well.
I barely had time to breathe?—