We Were Villains

11

After breakfast, we went out to the garage. Mattia, like Angelo, liked to drive in style. He gestured to his sleek black Jeep. "Get in, bambina."

"Nice car. Where are we going?"

"Shopping. I also know the best doughnut place in the city. Sound good?"

"I don't need anything, though."

"You said you like to read, right? We'll go book shopping." He sounded so enthusiastic that I didn't want to burst his bubble. Mattia and I drove in silence.

We reached the bookstore in no time. Mattia opened the door for me, and the moment we entered the store, the new fresh book smell infiltrated my nose, I was in heaven.

"I love smell of new books," I said, glancing up at my brother. He smiled, squeezing my shoulder. "Are you going to shop as well?"

"I am. How about you text me and meet me at the cash when you're ready?" I nodded and he leaned down, narrowing his eyes. "I am paying for everything, understand? I want you to get whatever you want."

"Are you sure-"

"Alessia, don't make me repeat myself okay?"

I smirked. "Okay 

I went instantly to the towards the young adult section. I loved losing myself in another world and it was just what I needed. I found lots of books, each one added to the pile. I had about twelve stacked up when Mattia found me sitting on the carpeted floor, reading a book's synopsis.

He snuck up, and I almost didn't see him until his shadow loomed over me. I looked up at him and then to the stack of books beside me. I smiled and he looked amused. "I almost didn't see you over the stack of books," he teased. I smiled up at him, noticed the few books in his arms.

"What do you have?" I asked, curious.

"Some books I wanted to have in my office. Medical stuff. Nothing exciting," he said. "Hey I picked you out something, wanna see it?"

"Of course, but you didn't have to-" Mattia shoved something into my arms - a leather bound journal. "What's this?" I asked, flipping through the pages, loving it already.

"It's a journal," he said, quietly. "You can write whatever you want in it. Your thoughts and ideas, anything."

I smiled. "Thank you, Mattia."

"Come on, let's go pay. I'm starving."

After the bookstore, we went to a fancy coffee and doughnut shop called The Donut Pub. Mattia opened the door and gestured for me enter, running underneath his arm. The young, brunette barista glanced up and did a double take before smiling.

"Mattia, good to see you," she said, her eyes lighting up.

I smirked at my older brother. "You must really come here a lot if she knows your name."

"Well, I like my sweets. What can I say?"

"Aren't you a doctor? You're supposed to be a health freak or whatever."

"That's obscure. I am probably the biggest sweet tooth in the family," he said, nudging me forward to the glass casings that held dozens of different kinds of doughnuts. "Order whatever you want."

+++

Angelo was home when Mattia and I entered the front door. He took my bags and smiled. "I'll carry these upstairs for you."

I shrugged a shoulder. "It's okay - I can-"

Angelo clutched the bag of books and journal to his chest. "I want to discuss some things with you anyway. About our trip."

"Oh. Okay," I said and led the way to my bedroom upstairs, my brother following me. When we entered, I took a seat at the end of my bed. I watched my older brother set the bags of books onto the floor next to my desk, eyeing the room.  "What did you want to talk about?"

"We're leaving tonight. I've been speaking to Charlotte, and she wants to have dual funerals, for both your mom and Michael -"

"No, I don't want that," I hissed, shaking my head. Angelo seemed surprised with the statement. I curled my fists, nails digging into my skin. "She deserves her own funeral ... not with that bastard."

I sucked in a deep breath, not believing I said that aloud. Angelo stilled. "Did you not like Michael? You seem very passive about him."

"No ... no, I didn't like him very much. He was cold and absent and ..." abusive. "I don't want to ... I don't want to go to his funeral, Angelo."

He crouched in front of me, reaching up to gently cup my cheek. "Then you don't have to go, baby. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. I will make sure Charlotte knows your wishes, okay?" He murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "You do not have to go to that fuckers funeral if you don't want to."

I nodded my head but the lump in my throat prevented me from talking. I can't believe I said that, he's going to know something is up. I fought the urge to touch my thighs, to scratch where the cuts were, just to comfort myself. Angelo leaned forward and kissed my temple before standing up.

"Pack your bag, okay? We'll get some dinner on the way to the airport," he said quietly and strode to the door. "Are you okay, Alessia?"

I nodded again, not having the strength to tell him the truth. Angelo seemed to accept it as an answer, leaving and closing the door behind him. When I heard his footsteps fade down the hall, I rushed to the bathroom and closed the door, locking it.

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I fought the courage to cut, to dig into my skin, to rip it open like I felt my heart was, pulling and tearing at the seams. I gripped my mouth hard to keep from crying out loud.

"Lay down, bitch," he slurred.

"Stop your crying." He wrapped his fingers around my neck.

"Oh my poor little baby," he cooed, roughly wiping away my tears as he unbuckled his belt.

He taunted me, like whispers in my ear. Even in death he hurt me. A loud sob escaped my lips and it was like a dam breaking, unable to keep myself calm once the tears started spilling. Once they started, I couldn't stop them.

"Alessia, are you in there?" Luca called, knocking on the bathroom door. "Alessia, open the door."

+++
Thank you so much for reading.
Do you say supper or dinner?
- Charlie 🧡