Alexis

Nessun Riposo per i Malvagi / Nessun Rimorso

No Rest for the Wicked/No Remorse

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"Thus saith the Lord God; Because that Edom hath dealt against the house of Judah by taking Vengeance, and hath greatly offended, and revenged himself upon them."

Ezekiel (25:12)

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From how much Vincent was yelling at me about everything, I didn't expect him to take such a kind tone with me. Well, more concerning than kind. He rubbed my back a few times before he pulled back and sternly gripped my shoulders. He took a long look at my face as if he was searching for something. He brought his eyes down to check over my body, analyzing carefully. It felt like he would remove my top just so he could hold it up to his face, and finely see the fibers of my shirt.

"Alexis," he whispered, "Are you okay, doll?" he asked, slowly and in English. I nodded as I looked at him but he only shook his head. "Tell me. Come here," he sighed.

He pulled me back into his embrace. He sighed as he swayed with me in his arms. I put my arms back around him. Put my face against him. Breathed in his cologne. Closed my eyes and recalled my actions. Held back my satisfaction but let it bake internally.

"Vincent," I called. He pulled back but kept his hands on my hips/lower back. I knew he knew. I just knew that he did. "I did it," I whispered.

Vincent nodded. "I know," he confirmed. "I know, bella," he repeated in his native language. "I want you to sit," he murmured. "I'll make you something to eat. Just sit. Water," he said as he started to walk into the kitchen, taking me with him. He pulled out a stool for me and I sat down. He turned to grab a glass to fill with water. I set my purse on the island counter and carefully removed my gun. Oddly, my hands were shaking. I wasn't sure why. A glass of water was set in front of me. "Drink that," Vincent suggested. "I'll make you something to eat. Just drink in time," he mumbled the last sentence.

I didn't respond but I did as he said. I like water. As I drank, I watched as Vincent silently cooked. He didn't ask for any help and I never commented on where to find things when I knew he was looking. He eventually found everything he was looking for. Even as Vincent grabbed dishes, no words were shared. It wasn't until I swallowed my first bite of the pasta that Vincent made that he spoke.

"You lied to me," he stated. I glanced to the side of me which he was sitting.

I raised one of my eyebrows. "No," I denied. "No, I didn't. I told you I was getting my nails done. I did," I confirmed and showed him my hand. "You knew this is what I wanted to do," I stated as I put my hand back and continued to eat.

"It's not safe for you. You knew," he countered. "I told you no."

"And I told you that you don't tell me what to do," I snipped. "There's no going back now

(~)

I've already done it. What's done is done," I said.

Vincent sighed but didn't reply. It was silent for the rest of dinner. I offered to do the dishes but Vincent simply shook his head. As I refilled my glass of water, the front door opened and closed, bells chiming. I turned. Freddie was walking in, steps quick. He made eye contact with me. A mix of anger and stress.

"Alex!" he called as he came into the kitchen. I stared at him, confused, only slightly. "What the fuck are you on?" he demanded. "Do you have any clue what the fuck you just caused?" Don't answer the question, he's going to— "No! You fucking don't. Little Italy has been tied to the fuckin mob for years and when it's finally noted as "cooled-down" since it's the twenty-first century and mobs aren't as popular, you go and fucking create a scene. We had a good fucking thing— people assuming the mafia was over, that the crime rate was high for reasons not related to us and you do this!