His Greatest Redemption [REUPLOADED]

8

"You ask for the devil, that's what you get."

Nico's words left an ugly stain on my brain for the remainder of the night, serving as my reminder that I was partially to blame for the situation I was in. I came here with no plan. I lured myself into a trap and now that I was stuck, I had no escape. I was done for.

I'd never done anything this stupid. It was like my brain completely shut down, operating strictly out of fear.

Fear, much like anger, made you stupid. I was a living, breathing example of that.

I was weak when it came to my family. When my papà was murdered and I left home, the first thing I should've done was cut ties with my older brother. He didn't grow up the way I did, despite the fact that his room was two doors down from mine. My papà molded him to be the man he never got to be, and now Stefano Cavallaro was a creature who only cared about himself.

And he was destroying everything I worked hard to build through fear, blood, sweat, and tears, and all for his own selfish reasons.

I glanced up at the mirror again, taking in my reflection. I was wearing a pair of baggy shorts and a huge black t-shirt with the words, 'MOTHER FUCKER' written in bold print on the front. And then in smaller words underneath was, 'read that again.' It made me laugh when I first read it, and I think this might've been the greatest shirt I've ever worn. It was obvious that it was old, because some of the letters were scraped off and fading.

My eyes were still so swollen, but I wasn't sure if it was due to the over exhaustion or all the crying. No matter how much I tried to get some sleep, it just wouldn't come. But could you really blame me?

How could anyone get a peaceful night of sleep in my predicament?

And besides, every time I had shut my eyes I was met with a pair of cold, evil green ones. His face was there, clear as day, and it made my muscles coil up each and every time.

I reached over and turned off the bathroom faucet, wiping my wet hands off on the towel hanging from the rack.

I was halfway out of the bathroom door when I heard a small clicking noise to the right of me. I immediately whipped my head around, my heart pushing at my rib cage.

Eli.

He was leaned against the bedroom door, a toothpick moving between his teeth and a flask in his other hand. Though he didn't scare me as much as Nico did, that didn't mean I didn't see him as a threat. They were all cruel, that was the only way to be in the Cosa Nostra.

I felt like I was being quick to judge, but that was just how I was. It was better to assume the worst about everyone because then, I'd have a valid reason to push them the farthest away from me. That way, I couldn't get hurt. That way, I wouldn't have to surrender any piece of myself to anyone.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked slowly, my eyes watching him carefully. I was still in the doorway of the bathroom, scanning the room for my exit just in case he tried something.