"What the fuck, Dad?" I barked, as I stormed into his office.
Dad was sitting there with Jamal, drinking whisky straight from the bottle. I knocked the bottle out from his hands, and poured it all over the floor, disgusted at the sight of him.
"What the fuck, Luca?!" Dad roared angrily. "What are you doing?"
"Wake the fuck up, Dad," I snarled. "Stop drinking. It's all I ever see you fucking do."
Dad rattled his fists angrily, banging them down on the table. Jamal screwed his face, folding his arms.
"What's up your ass?" Jamal sneered. "Did you collect the debts from Tariq?"
"No," I retorted. "He wasn't at the goddamn location."
"You could've rummaged through his flat, taken goods worth the value. Carried on looking for him. Why the fuck are you back here? Why aren't you dealing with the situation?!" Jamal scolded.
"Massimo's dead, I thought I'd come back to inform you," I shot back.
"What?" Dad got up on his feet, going stone white in shock. "No, no… Not Massimo. Not Massimo…"
"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!" Jamal roared. "You let Massimo die?! He's our flesh and blood, one of our main men, he takes care of so many operations…" Jamal trailed off his sentence, punching the wall behind him so hard that his fist snapped and blood started to gush out of his hand.
I'd seen enough blood for one fucking day.
"He's out of control," I seethed. "He killed a Muslim woman and her little kids. I had to let Fizz take care of him."
"Massimo wouldn't do that…" Dad stumbled, getting dizzy from the alcohol he'd drank earlier. "Not my Massimo. He was such a good man… H – he always respected my r – rules…"
"I guess you didn't know Massimo as well as you fucking thought, Dad," I seethed. "Do you even know any of us anymore? You just sit in your office all day, drinking the day away like a fucking tosser. Get your fucking shit together."
"You are to speak to me with respect, boy," Dad hissed. "I'm the man who raised you, brought you into this family, put food on your table."
"Being brought into this family was the last thing I fucking needed," I snapped harshly. "Look at what you've made me, Dad. Look at what you've fucking done to me. What this lifestyle has done to me. Look at you. You haven't been right ever since Mum died."
"This is the Cosa Nostra, and if you don't like the rules, you know there's a graveyard out there we can toss you inside," Jamal snarled, taking steps closer to me, closing the gap between us. "When there's a job that needs doing, you fucking do it. You made a big mistake killing Massimo today, you motherfu-"
Jamal spat on my face, grabbed hold of my neck, and began squeezing it. I began struggling for air as the wind began knocking out of my lungs. I doubled over, gaining the strength to retaliate, shoving Jamal off of me with such a force that he toppled backwards. He got up on his feet, wobbling about his spot, his facial expression strung with venom.
"Boys, please stop!" Dad pleaded, his eyes welling with tears.
"You motherfucker," I spat at Jamal, my voice dropping to barely below a whisper. "You've got some audacity pulling a stunt like that with me. I'm your fucking boss."
"The only person I work for and answer to is your fucking father," Jamal seethed. "He's the only man I have respect for. Things have been fucked up in business ever since you took over. Bodies dropping, left right and center. Losing our own family in the crossfire. Innocent people dying. People not paying up their debts." He broke off his sentence, rattling. "We look like fucking pussies. You shame the Cosa Nostra name. Ever since you took over, we've stopped teaching motherfuckers who was boss. Everything's gone to shit because of you. BECAUSE OF YOU!"
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" I roared, grabbing hold of my gun and pointing it straight at his face. There was no way that he was going to get away with speaking to me like this, and live to tell the fucking story. I didn't care how important he was to my dad. Nobody took me for a dickhead and got away with it.
"See?" he snarled, smirking at the gun. "Your only answer. You'd kill your own family for giving you a reality check. When it's only the truth that's coming out of my mouth."
"You little…" I cocked the gun, my patience wearing thin. Not wanting to listen to his bullshit any longer.
"Go on then, shoot me," he hissed. "Shoot me, you bastard! I could do without being in this fucked up family anymore. SHOOT ME!"
I growled loudly. He wanted me to shoot him? Then his wish was my fucking command.
"You bastard," I seethed, and pulled the fucking trigger. The bullet fell straight out of the gun, flying in his direction…
But Dad jumped in front of him.
"NOOOOOOOO!" I screamed bloody murder. "DAD, NO!"
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Jamal screamed, falling to the floor in anguish, sobbing.
"DAD, NO!" I wept, rushing to his body, taking him into my arms.
This had to be a bad dream.
This had to be a bad fucking dream.
I cried out to God internally, kicking and screaming, wishing that I would wake up.
Wishing that this nightmare would come to an end.
Dad's hands were wrapped around his chest, his t-shirt soaked with blood from where the bullet had gone straight through him. My eyes fogged with tears.
"JAMAL, GET OUR DOCTOR!" I screamed. "GET OUR MOTHERFUCKING DOCTOR HERE RIGHT NOW!"
"I am, I am!" Jamal sobbed, bolting out of the room.
"Please Dad, please stay strong. Please keep fighting," I wept, holding him close to me, my tears falling onto his body.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
"I'm so fucking sorry, Dad…" I wept. "I'm so fucking sorry."
I tore my sleeve off, doing my best to put pressure on the wound and stop the bleeding. Doing my best to keep air pumping through Dad's body.
"You're going to be okay, Dad… You're gonna be okay…"
Dad struggled for air, his windpipes letting out a crushing wheezing sound that caused my ears to burn.
"Luca, please…" Dad breathed, his eyes fogging with tears.
"Help is on its way, Dad, I'm not giving up on you. The doc will take the bullet out, you're gonna be fine…"
"Luca," Dad said weakly, taking my face into his hands, forcing me to look him in his eyes. "P – please look at me…"
"I'm so sorry Dad. I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't mean to. It was a fucking accident, I was meant to shoot Jamal, please…" I trailed off my sentence, feeling me drive myself to the brink of insanity.
"It's okay, Luca. I don't blame you, I forgive you…" Dad breathed shakily. "You're my son. I love you."
"Please don't speak like this, Dad," I wept. "You're gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine…" I turned around, trying to make out where the motherfucker Jamal had gone off to. "WHERE'S THE FUCKING DOCTOR?!" I roared desperately. "HURRY THE FUCK UP!"
"Let me die, Luca…" Dad whispered shakily. "Let me die. My time was coming a long time ago, anyway. I've overstayed my welcome in this world. I-"
"NO DAD!" I bellowed. "I need you. The family needs you. We're nothing without you. Don't speak like this. Don't you fucking dare speak like this!"
I continued to pump his chest desperately, desperately doing my best to keep him breathing before the doctors arrived.
Pump. Pump. Pump.
"It's okay, Luca…" Dad swallowed. "I was a dead man walking for a long time. My life was at the bottom of an alcohol bottle. I haven't been right ever since Violetta died…"
"No Dad, you have so much left to live for," I sobbed. "We all need you. I can't lose both of you. I can't live without both my mum and my dad…"
"Let me go, Luca…" Dad continued to weaken underneath my strong gasp, his voice getting quieter and quieter, to the point it was barely above a whisper. "It's okay. I can hear her… I can hear her voice. Her beautiful, sweet voice. I missed her so much. My love. Violetta…"
I continued to sob, screaming and screaming for the doctor to come, but I couldn't hear a single noise. Time stood still. It felt like I'd been waiting for an eternity.
I could feel my heart shatter into millions of tiny pieces as my father continued to call out to my dead mother to be reunited with her. He'd given up. Given up on me, given up on the Cosa Nostra. And for the first time in my life, even though my father was dying in my arms…
Was the first time I saw hope in his eyes. The love and hope he had for my mother, to be reunited with her in the afterlife.
"I l – love you, Luca. I know you'll carry on my l – legacy. I know you'll do me p – proud…" Dad whispered, his eyes glistening with tears. "Don't let the others g – get to you. You've worked s – so hard. You've done so much f – for m – me…"
"Please, Dad. Please don't do this," I wept, screaming bloody murder. Screaming until I was blue in the face, screaming until my throat went dry. Screaming until I had nothing left inside of me.
"I'm coming, Violetta…" Dad breathed.
And those were the last words he said before his head lulled backwards, and he stopped breathing.
Drowning in his own pool of blood.
Leaving me dithering here.
Hating myself.
Despising myself.
Wishing that it was me in his place.
Knowing that this was all my fucking fault.
My father's blood was on my hands.
It might have been an accident…
But I still pulled the fucking trigger.
I still pulled the damn trigger. I would never forgive myself for this.
Never.
It wasn't just my father that died today.
I died too.
I died inside.
He took the last piece of my soul with him as he died.