80

Portia
Dead?
No.
No.
Antonio drops me and I hit the floor, my head bouncing off hard stone.
Callahan is dead?
“Did you find those pieces of shit?” someone asks.
I roll onto my side gasping for breath, the back of my head throbbing.
“Just the girl.”
I struggle to open my eyes and the room spins, the two of them standing over me like giants. Antonio and David.
“She’ll have to do.”
I hear Cerberus’s growl, turn my head just enough to see him stalk into the room, teeth bared.
“For fuck’s sake. Get that beast away from me.” It’s David.
Callahan’s uncle.
I watch Antonio take Cerberus and walk him away from us, but when David reaches down to grab hold of my arm and roughly haul me up, Cerberus tries to lunge for him.
“Cerberus!” Antonio tries to command him but even as my head lolls, I can see the effort it’s taking him to hold the huge dog back.
David has me by both arms and gives me a hard shake. “Look at me.”
I try. I can’t seem to keep my head up or my eyes open, not to mention getting my legs under me without my knees giving out.
“Fuck,” David curses.
“What do you want with her? We go after Felix now. Leave her in one of the cells. I’ll take care of her when I’m finished with Felix,” Antonio says.
“That’s not going to work for me.”
“I made my brother a promise. Leave her to me.”
“Your brother’s dead. Any promises are void.”
More men enter the room as I’m finally able to stand upright.
“I promised,” Antonio says. “Dead or alive.”
David turns back to me, grasps my jaw with one hand and tilts my face up to look closely at me. He hands me off to one of the men who just entered.
“Callahan,” I croak, my throat hoarse after nearly being choked to death.
“Take her to the chopper.”
“I said no!” Antonio argues.
David goes to him. “Listen to me,” he starts, voice menacing, but quickly shifting. David sighs, hangs his head. He looks back up at Antonio who is a few inches taller than him.
He smiles. “Your brother is dead, Antonio. You and I are all that’s left of the Scarfoni family. I love you like a son. You know that. I’ve taken care of you like a father when your family was murdered. When your brother couldn’t be there for you.”
“I know that.”
“Let me take care of this one final loose end. Then we can get on with our lives.”
Antonio looks at him and I see how David’s tone and words are getting to him. Either David is a great actor or what he’s saying is authentic. I’m going with the former.
“It’s my final promise to my brother.”
“Your brother was fooled by her. She deserves what I have planned.”
“And what’s that?”
“She’ll get exactly what she deserves, and Felix will never get his hands on her. He’ll never use her to make the cartel fall in line and come after us,”
Antonio looks at me over his shoulder, but I can’t read him at all.
“No,” he says to his uncle.
“What did you say?” David asks.
“I promised my brother,” Antonio says firmly.
David squares his shoulders. “Well, your brother is dead.”
Antonio glances at me once more the look in his eyes one of utter pain, complete defeat. He nods.
“Get her on the chopper,” David orders the soldiers.
–
Callahan
Let go. My mind fights the fog and each time it does, pain comes raging back, the sounds too loud, the lights too bright.
Let go.
I slip again. It’s easier like this.
Easier to slip away.
Creme caramel eyes.
Portia.
Pain.
If you die, she dies.
I know that. Her life is linked to mine. She will only survive if I survive.
The light changes. It’s brighter and softer at once. And warm. It’s warm here. A little girl’s giggles bubble around the other noises. I open my eyes and look down at Elizabeth. She’s so little. Maybe two. We’re at the beach. I buried her in the sand and I’m tickling her tiny feet. She’s giggling and giggling and although she can pull away, she doesn’t.
“Callahan,” my mother calls.
I turn to look over my shoulder at her. She’s standing at the pier. And she’s wearing the same dress she had on the night of the massacre. It’s already stained red.
“Callahan.”
Giggles draw me back to my little sister who is wiggling her toes waiting for me to tickle her again.
If you die, she dies.
I close my eyes and feel the pain again. Hear the sounds blotting out everything else. Machines and people, and too much noise.
Let go.
I’m so tired I want to let go but there’s some part of me that won’t let me do it.
“Callahan.”
This time when I look up, mom’s closer. She’s standing just a few feet away. So close I can smell her perfume. I had forgotten the scent along with everything else.
“Mom.”
I stand up. I’m taller than her now. Does she know her throat is slit? Does she know the blood has dried around the gash?
I swallow, try not to look at it. It’s dark behind her. Shadows all around her.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”
She smiles, reaches out a hand out to touch my face. The way she used to when any of us fell or hurt ourselves when we were little. Her hand isn’t warm like it used to be though. It’s cold.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
That’s when it happens. When it all comes flooding back. When all the memories I’d lost take me under like a tidal wave. Like a tsunami. I stand under the weight of them and look into my mother’s eyes, trying not to see the gash on her throat as everything rushes me.
I stumble but she holds my hand and somehow, she steadies me. The sun is gone. I didn’t notice the clouds that rolled in, but I feel the wind, bitter and punishing.
I look down, seeing Elizabeth. She’s not in the sand anymore. She’s standing beside our mother holding her other hand. She’s five now and she, too, is wearing the dress she wore the day she was killed. She too is cut, bleeding. No, not bleeding anymore. She already bled.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell my little sister as an unbearable pain twist in my side.
Elizabeth reaches her other hand to me and hold mine.
“I miss you,” I tell her, then turn to my mom. “I miss you all so much.”
My mom reaches out to touch my face, wiping my cheek. Her finger is smeared with red when she pulls her hand away.
“I know you do but you can’t stay,” she says, and the scene shifts again, the clouds gone, the sun back. Elizabeth is bright and happy again, no blood, just her pudgy little body in her bright yellow bumble bee bathing suit.
“Why not?” It would be so easy. Elizabeth squeezes my hand and I look down to her. “You have to go back.” Its like moving through mud here. Even shifting my gaze from one to the other is like dragging myself through thick mud.
“Why not?” I ask my mom again.
“Because she needs you. If you die, she dies,” my mother says. “And you made her a promise.”
Creme caramel eyes. Portia.
Portia alone again. Portia unprotected again.
I promised to keep her safe and I’m breaking my promise.
Pain. Bright, fluorescent lights. Noise. So much fucking noise.
I blink, feel my mom’s cool hand on my cheek again. I look at her, see her eyes again, fading now.
“Keep your promise,” she says to me and then she’s gone.