Making my way stealthily by the golden glow of street lights filtering in the windows, I crawled onto the bed and held the long knife to my godfather’s wrinkled throat.
The covers were neatly pulled up to his chest. His wheelchair parked nearby. I straddled his body, my knees pinning his arms, and dipped my head close to his. His eyes fluttered open and he tried to raise his arms to his throat. His eyes focused on me in the dim light.
“Gia?” He genuinely seemed confused but stopped struggling.
“Don’t act innocent with me, Vito. It’s time you paid for your sins.”
“What?” His eyes blinked rapidly.
“You killed my parents. You killed my brother. You sent those goons to kill me. And you beat up, Kato.”
“No, no. I swear.” He tried to shake his head but the pressure of the knife stopped him.
“Bullshit.” I let the knife press just a little bit harder. “I’m here to avenge my mother and father, Vito. You know I have to do this. You know it’s my duty as a daughter.”
My hands were steady. My voice even. My heart rate slow and steady. I’d thrown up twice on the drive down to Monterey, but now, with the knife pressed against Vito’s saggy neck, a cool calmness had settled upon me. I nestled the knife between two floppy folds of skin. I could tell from the shimmer of fear in his eyes, he knew then that he would die at my hands. He struggled to sit up, but I put more pressure on his arms and chest.
“You sent those men to kill me. You ruined my father’s business and you were trying to save yourself with the Bay View deal. I know everything.”
“The men I sent,” he said, struggling to speak. “Those men were to protect you. I’ve been looking for you. Your life is in danger.”
“You killed my mother and father. They loved you!” I was crying now.
“I didn’t kill your parents. They died in a fire, Gia, you know that.”
“I don’t know that!” My words seethed from my mouth with a hissing noise. What he didn’t say spoke volumes. He didn’t deny the other deaths.
“Your men killed Christopher. Your men beat up, Kato. On your orders! Go ahead and deny it and I’ll end it right now.” I said, pushing the knife harder until a tiny bit of blood appeared along its edge.
The warrior knows his enemies will deny all until the death. But the warrior must stay true to his course.
His eyes grew hard. He didn’t say a word.
I leaned down in his face. “What did Kato ever do to you? He could have died from that attack.”
“I needed to find you.”
“So, you could kill me, too?”
“No, to protect you.”
“I’m not stupid, Vito. You killed my brother and nearly beat my friend Kato to death and yet you look me in the eyes and say you didn’t kill my parents and haven’t tried to kill me? How do you expect me to believe this?”
The sound of glass breaking in the other room made me jerk back. The knife sliced my finger slightly and a large drop of blood dripped onto my godfather’s pajama collar. The sounds of a struggle and a startling scream broke the silence.
Vito grabbed my wrist. Not to take away the knife but to pull my head close to his ear. “They’re here,” he whispered. “They must’ve followed you. Go, run.”
I stopped, stunned. Was it a trick? Had he been telling the truth this whole time?
“Go, on your mother’s soul, I beg you to run.”
His eyes were wild. He was afraid.
I ran.
I slipped out the bedroom window and ran for the fence. I scaled it in one fluid movement and ran, cutting through backyards and not stopping until I’d reached the Carmel Mission.
I ducked into the ancient church, kneeling in the last row of pews, trying to catch my breath and make sense of what had just happened. It wasn’t until I heard the cacophony of sirens, police and ambulance and fire trucks, that I knew.
My godfather was dead.