Page 62 of Prince of Carnage
"Damn straight," Mickey agrees solemnly.
"Damn straight," I echo, voice barely above a whisper. I let the silence stretch, a moment of respect for a fallen brother, before the planning resumes, ruthless and precise.
"Alright, let's get back to it. We've got a snake to hunt and a funeral to secure." I stand, feeling the familiar tug of vengeance, a dark thread weaving through my veins. "And when we're done, Declan O'Leary will wish he'd never heard the name Sebastian Blackwood."
"Cheers to that." Mickey raises an invisible glass, a morbid toast to our grim future.
"Cheers to that," I repeat, and the shadowed room seems to close in around us, a silent witness to the oath being forged within its walls.
The sky is a blanket of bleakness, the kind of overcast that makes you think the sun’s given up on this part of the world. It's cold, with a chill that seeps through your bones, and the air's got a gray tinge that feels like it's choking the life out of everything bright. I'm standing there in the graveyard, with Evelyn to my right, trying to look like the stoic type. Evan's wedged between us, his little hand gripping mine like it's the only solid thing in this whole damn place.
"Watch your step," I murmur to the boy as we move closer to the gaping hole in the earth where they're about to drop Sebastian's casket. The ground's soft and treacherous, wet from last night's rain. My grip tightens on Evan's hand, feeling his tiny bones against my skin.
I'm pushing back the tears that are clawing their way up my throat. No one can see me cry, not today, not when I’ve got to be the rock for everyone else. That’s Constantino Maldonado for you, never showing a crack in the armor, even if inside I'm nothing but cracks and broken pieces.
Evan's not crying, which is something that gnaws at me. Kid's too young to understand, or maybe he's just in shock. He's watching his dad's casket lower into the ground with this bewildered look on his face, and damn it, it's breaking what's left of my heart.
"Hey, champ." I lean down, scooping him up into my arms. He's light as a feather, or maybe it's just the adrenaline coursing through me making everything seem weightless. I can feel hishand trembling against my neck, and hell, maybe he needs this hug as much as I do.
"Is Daddy going to be cold down there?" His voice is so soft, barely above the rustling of the leaves on the weeping willows around us.
"Nah, kiddo. Your daddy's... he's in a better place now. No cold, no pain."
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart." A lie, but what else can I say?
The rest of the service passes in a blur, words from the priest falling on deaf ears. I'm too busy watching clouds, seeing shapes that remind me of bloodstains rather than animals.
"Time to go, Evan," I say eventually, once the murmured condolences die down and people start drifting away. I set him on his feet, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Can we visit Daddy again?" he asks, looking up at me with those big eyes, so damn similar to Sebastian's.
"Anytime you want, buddy." I ruffle his hair and glance over at Evelyn. "You two head to the car, alright? I'll be there in a sec."
Evelyn gives me a nod, her blue eyes clouded with unshed tears, and she takes Evan's hand, leading him away. I watch them go, feeling a pull in my chest, a strange mix of warmth and ice. It's moments like these I reckon that make us human, even when we spend our lives trying to deny it.
The damp soil clings to my fingers as I press my palm against the freshly turned earth next to Sebastian's grave. The sky is a canvas of bleak grays, the clouds hanging low like a shroud over the cemetery. A chill wind bites through my coat, but it's nothing compared to the cold that has settled in my bones since his death.
"Sebastian," I murmur, my voice lost to the whispering leaves. "I swear on everything I hold sacred, I'll take care of your boy. He won't want for anything—not love, not guidance. Andyour memory... I'll honor it with every breath I take. Those Irish bastards will wish they'd never crossed us."
The vow forms a knot in my throat, a promise that feels like a pact with the devil himself. I look up at the leaden sky, half-expecting some sign of approval, but there's nothing—only the oppressive silence of the world holding its breath.
Shaking off the weight of the moment, I straighten up and head back to where Evelyn and Evan are waiting by the car, its windows reflecting the funereal scenery. Evelyn's putting Evan into the backseat, her movements gentle but mechanical, like she's running through motions rote-learned from a life she never asked for.
"Constantino?" She turns to me, her eyes searching mine. There's a question in them, one that goes deeper than words.
"I'm not coming with you," I say, my voice steady despite the tremor I feel inside.
"Back to the apartment then?" She's trying to keep it together, to be the rock I know she thinks Evan needs, but her voice betrays a hint of vulnerability.
"Tonight's the night, Evelyn." I let the words hang between us, heavy with the weight of impending violence. "I make things right tonight. Go back to the apartment," I tell her, cutting off her questions before they can truly form. "It's safe there. That's where you need to be, both of you."
"You sure about this?" She takes a step closer, her hand reaching out as if to physically pull the answers from me.
"Absolutely," I say immediately. "I won't let this go unanswered. Not what they did to Sebastian, not the danger they've put us all in. Tonight, I settle the score." My words are granite, chiseled with the resolve that's been building inside me for weeks.
"Be careful," she whispers, the words barely more than a breath of wind.