The Mafia Sacrifice

89

Starr Marie

"I'm sorry for what he did to you," I say in a bold tone, trying to hide my sadness.

He sighs. "Don't be. You had no part in any of it," Reassurance runs through his words through I overlook it.

"But in a wicked weird way... I did," I reply.

Issac slowly stands up. Towering over me as I sit on the edge of the bed. I frown at the pain I once saw him in. "I'm fine," He reassures me for like the hundredth time. "We need to be worried about you recovering for the ceremony."

My eyes shift to the ground. I found myself looking at the ground more lately. Maybe because I couldn't avoid it. I had to walk on it, therefore I should be aware of it. It was there, and I felt a slight bit of comfort from it.

"Do you think joining both mafias would be a wise idea, considering that I may have enemies amongst both of them?" I question him.

He shakes his head. "Honestly, there are positives and negatives with it all. Pros and cons. But.... you are the strongest person any of us know. You could make it work even if there's a few people who don't support you. Don't doubt yourself."

"I suppose you could tell me how you know that I would?" I say with more doubt. "Before this, I was a nobody."

"No you weren't," He looks at me with a stern expression. "You would always be someone even without a title. You are Starr. The light we all are drawn too. Don't ever think you are worth less because your name is not known."

I nod my head. Drawing in every word he let so purposely seep into my brain. Finding it hard that I have to much to handle in one small period of my life.

"Enough about me," I watch him turn around. Only leaving room for me to look at his scars going down his back. "How are you doing?"

Once he catches my eyes through the mirror, he turns around so I wouldn't look at the pain he had to live with for the rest of his life. Through the mirror reflected every painful scar on him, and through my eyes reflected every bit of guilt. "I told you. I'm fine," He says cutting my seconds of shame in half.

"Be honest with me," I sort of demand.

He crosses his arms, lending a knowing look. "I'm fine. In fact, I think seeing my family would be more of a helpful asset in my process of recovery."

Taking a large, deep breath, trailing my hands across my knee. Looking for truth in his eyes while trying to figure out if what he's suggested should marinate through my brain more seriously.

"Are you mentally ready for that?" I ask, thinking about how his family would react to his pain. How him seeing his family would affect him. Explaining what happened to his family—would be a pain in both ends.

"No...but I'll have to go thorough this at some point," He says with honesty. "Why not go through it now?"

I silently agree. "Okay," I reply. "Whenever your ready... I'm on board. Just don't overbear yourself with more stress. It slows down your healing process."

He nods his head. "Now, you should go and find someone else to check on," His rests his hands on my shoulder. "I'm fine... and I'm sure Grayson needs all your support right now."

"Okay," I say as he walks towards me, gesturing me out the door. I come to a stop looking at him.

"You are a great person," I unexpectedly say. He doesn't respond. "I appreciate everything you have done for me. And as much as I know that you hate hearing me say this... I'm sorry."