Page 3 of His Cursed Heart
“My dead fiancée knocked from inside her coffin?” I asked him already tired of his childish behavior.
“I know what I heard.” I move him aside, entering the room but I freeze when the black, empty coffin stays in the middle of the room.
The windows are closed, no sign that someone was here. Even the white sheets inside the coffin are impeccable. Allan was out for maximum four minutes and her body is gone.
My dead fiancée disappeared.
My fingers are trying to find the bullet that is swimming in my best friend’s shoulder and her screams are numbing my ears.
“Can you be quiet for a fucking second?” I ask her while trying to grab the damn bullet.
“I’m sorry that I feel pain. I’m going to kill that little fucker.” My best friend since I was a toddler, and my partner in crime- literally, Venus, starts to move in her seat.
“You are a goddam huntress for the mafia and you’re crying over a gunshot?” I push her back in the position she was. I feel the hard bullet on my fingers, and with the hand inside her shoulder I try to widen the gun hole, and with the other one I take the pliers from the table beside me and put it inside the bloody wound.
Her screams are really starting to numb my ears, so I took some napkins and shoved them inside her mouth.
Much better.
Venus looks at me like she can’t believe what I did, but at least she lets me in peace.
After I grab the bullet, I start to slowly take the plier out until it’s out from her shoulder. I show it to her like she won some stupid prize while she looks at me and plans my death.
“These are the consequences that you have to endure, because you let Vincent play with that gun.” She takes the napkins out of her mouth and throws them out in the room.
“How was I supposed to know that he was holding a real gun in his little hands? He’s almost five years old and you are already letting him shot people?” I raise my eyebrow at her anger.
Vincent Fabiano is my little devil of a brother, and the pride of my father. He is the result of one of my father’s affairs, but the gem of the family.
The future.
My father and Mamma have two girls, me and my sister, and six years ago when mom left us for good, dad got some whore pregnant.
I never liked my father, but Vincent is the best thing that happened in my life.
“You know he likes the real guns, not the toys.” Plus, I thought the gun had the safety on.
“I think we should stop laughing and say that he’s adorable when he’s pointing the gun at us and says ‘pew pew I’m going to kill you’.” Venus pulls her leather jacket back on her shoulders and stretches her shoulder.
Venus is probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen; straight black hair that reaches her middle, with a sinful body full of tattoos that I made, and gorgeous blue eyes. She is definitely someone I’d paint on one of my black canvases.
“Vincent is a handful, that’s for sure.” My chest tightens in a weird way. This is probably the only feeling I’m capable of.
I’ve been dead for some time.
“There are no saints that will help you or him in the afterlife.” Venus says in Italian. I almost laugh at what she said.
Almost.
“When did I ever needed saints?” I ask back in Italian. Venus looks at me with regret. Or is it pity?
I’m used to all those useless feelings that people have been throwing at me.
Shame.
Pity.
Disappointment.