Daylight

ONE

Elizabeth...

Two years later...

The waves crashed into one another, sending the white comfy foam out flying. Not many people were around, as expected. It was getting late. Vic would start calling for me.

I stood on the balcony, watching the waves overlap one another and hug eachother, until a certain someone called me out. Sought me out.

"Liz!" Shouted Micky. He ran up to me with a newspaper in hand. He hugged me tight before eventually breaking away.

"Micky, you know better than to call me that," I scolded, "what's my name?"

"Elizabeth," he said sheepishly. He handed me the paper, "why do you need the paper anyway? Cant you use your phone?"

I stifled a laugh. Micky was the son of a well trusted friend of Vic's, mine too. He died on a private mission. I took in his son, Carlos, after he died, and treat his as my own little brother. It's only me though, Vic sees him as some sort of charity case, or a pet for me.

Mickey was what we used to call his father. The nickname was passed down to him by Vic's men after he died. Micky always wants to help out, and I keep telling him to stop trying. It's not a place for a little boy. But he always gets me with his smile.

"Because then Vic will know," I answered shortly, "it's better this way."

Micky frowned and sighed. "You always say that."

I smiled at the 8-year-old boy and ruffle his hair. He swatted my hand away so I settled for just placing it gently on his shoulder. Micky stood with me to watch the ocean live for about five minutes.

"Elizabeth, is something wrong?"

I frowned.

"Why would anything be wrong?"

"Well, your kind of always apart from Vic. Ever since we got to Italy, you've been apart. It's like a secret."

I chuckled and patted his head, "Micky, everything's fine. Dont worry about me and Vic. If something's wrong, we'll fix it. But nothing is."

Micky pouted, visibly conflicted. He decided on just watching the waves. Good choice, kid.

I turned my attention to the newspaper and gasped softly at the headline.

"Attack on Northern Italy Kills Hundreds!"

I already knew the culprit. It was obvious. I saw the picture attached with it, and saw the war zone Vic created. Buildings, homes, destroyed on some other fucking gangs territory. No doubt families were killed. Vic spends all his time, reminding me how important family is, yet goes and does this to others. He's a fucking hypocrite!

I huffed and set the paper down. Micky then turned to me, "Elizabeth, is Vic okay?"

No, he's sick! "I'm sure he's fine, Micky, why?"

"Well, it's just that he's weird. He goes out and comes back in blood. Do you think he's okay?"

I smiled.

"Micky, don't ever worry about him. Okay? It's better that way," he nodded and gave me small smile of his own. "And besides, Vic is Vic. Don't forget that."

He nodded, this time more seriously.

I sighed and took Micky's hand, leading him back into the luxurious house. Beach house. It was all modern and white, with a red couch right in the middle of the living room, facing the balcony. We all have our own rooms, even Mikcy here. I persuaded Vic into adding an additional room to all our houses.