Page 42 of By Blade, I Love
Elio returned with the coffin, a brilliant Sicilian blue, and carried it to the shallow grave behind the house. We all put on gloves before we moved his body into the coffin. Leo was the only one who didn’t help, keeping his back to us until he heard the lid close.
We acted as pallbearers and lifted his coffin. Together, we carried it to his final resting place under the tree where he’d initiated me into the family and had allowed me to carve my true name into the bark.
We had to use ropes we found in the warehouse to lower the coffin six feet below, treating his corpse gently even though he was almost exclusively bones after being exposed to the Mediterranean sun for so long.
The coffin hit the bottom of the grave, and then I hopped inside to remove the knots in the ropes so they would come free, before I climbed back out. Then we grabbed the shovels and started to return the dirt from where it’d been taken.
Leo didn’t help. He just stood there and watched, bloody and broken, tears glistening in his eyes as we buried his father. He would have to carry the guilt of his father’s death for the rest of his life.
Ialmostfelt bad for him.
We packed the dirt into place and smoothed out the surface to make it flat once more. When the job was done, we all stood there together, our arms resting on the shovels that had given us blisters and stared at the slightly raised mound. Birds chirped in the trees, and a hawk cawed from its place high in the sky. We stood together in a heavy moment of silence, saying goodbye to our leader who was gone too soon.
Then, one by one, they all turned to look at Leo.
Elio, Andre, and Salvatore, they all stared at Leo like they wanted to shoot him on sight. It was silent and hostile, full of an unspoken promise of wrath. It was an opportunity for the men to say their piece, to verbally eviscerate Leo for what he’d done to their friend and leader, but somehow the silence was worse.
With watery eyes, Leo sniffed before he stepped back. “I’m—I’m sorry.” He took another step and then turned around and walked off, heading down the dirt road toward the villa and the cars and the pile of dead bodies of Warren’s men.
With my arms resting on the shovel, I watched him walk out the gate and disappear.
Elio shifted his gaze to me.
I stared back, feeling my anger bubble to the surface.
Andre turned his attention to me as well.
Salvatore stared at the gate where Leo disappeared before he turned to me.
Elio gave a slight nod. “We were wrong—and we paid the price.”
By evening, the property was still a mess. We had dead bodies everywhere, cars piled up on the road, bullet holes in all the buildings. Just when it’d been put back together, another war had torn it apart.
Elio called and ordered a custom headstone for Don Mancini, a small cross that wouldn’t overwhelm the tree. Once that was in place, his grave would be completed, but it would take a day or so for the engraving to happen, even though he’d rushed it.
I headed back inside and saw the staff at work in the kitchen, like things were somewhat back to normal. I climbed to the third floor, stepped into the office, and saw her seated in the armchair, her eyes on the desk and the window behind it. No lights were on, so she was sitting in the dark…and had probably been that way all day.
When I stepped inside, my boots were audible, but she didn’t turn to look at me, either ignoring me or so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice. There was a standing lamp near the wall, so I turned it on and flooded the room with a gentle light.
She stiffened slightly in surprise, confirming she really hadn’t heard me walk inside.
I walked to the end table next to the couch and turned on that lamp, bringing a glow to the other side of the office.
Her eyes moved to me, and she watched me take a seat in the armchair across from her.
She wasn’t the violent conqueror she’d been that afternoon, absolutely no fight left in her anymore. That murderous high had expired even quicker than I’d expected it to. Now she looked like a ghost, her eyes an endless well of sadness.
I sat slightly forward on the edge of my chair, my forearms resting on my knees as I stared at her.
She stared back, her face pale and her eyes so sad she looked like she was on the verge of tears.
I loved how she could be so badass when she was angry but then be so vulnerable when it was just the two of us. She didn’t pretend to be strong when she felt weak. Didn’t put on a show to hide her true emotions. She could blow off heads one moment and then succumb to tears the next.
“Is Leo gone?” she said quietly.
“Yeah.”
She nodded. “Good.”
