Death And Love Poems (2) Mafia Romance

7. Anger Management

Roxana

"The rules are: leave the GPS tracker on at all times, answer the phone regardless of what you are doing, don't be late, and don't talk more than necessary. Okay?"

"Yes, Roxi. But was the date so awkward that you don't want to see Thiago ever again? Not even as friends?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

The issue is not that it was bad but that it was good. So good and it made me feel so awful. It felt like cheating and endangering someone at the same time.

Roxi, he's a grown-ass man and can take care of himself. So was Marco. But where is he now? Dead.

"What should I say if he asks about you?"
Legit question.

"Dunno. Tell him that I met someone on Tinder or so."

"Tinder? Ugh. That's quite atypical for your behavior so far." He raises an eyebrow. Snarky. Way too snarky for what I recalled of him. "I'll tell him you are not into him. Honesty is mostly a good idea. But... why? He is really hot. He has even those tiny muscles on the sides of the abs and such beautiful eyes. I think they are hazel. Is he not your type, Roxi? I recall Bogdan wasn't even half as hot as he is."

"Yeah... he is pretty hot..." I sigh. He really is, and nice and funny and he can dance.

"Ok... So? If you find him hot too, what's the issue? Was he behaving oddly? Was he rude and grabbed your ass or so?"

"No..." Jesus this kid grew up when I was blinking and now he is frightening me.

"Then what is it? Is it someone else? You like someone else, don't you? Did you meet someone in Italy? Oh and then you had to leave? Oh my..."

"No, that's... Dani, the persons we used to be died. What's this weird obsession you have with me and this guy?"

Dani frowns and folds his arms over his chest. His green eyes, the same color are mine are cloudy.

"You don't understand. He was nice and he helped and now I have some hours a week I am looking forward to. I just don't want it to end."

I walk over and hug him. He is taller than me, though not by much, slender, and mostly sad.

"I get it. I am sorry. Just go to your practice. Tell Thiago I'm on my period or so and I'll call him." Someday...

Dani blushes a bit. Ha! He blushes when he needs to talk about periods but not when he is talking about some guy's tiny side abs muscles.

After he is gone I sink on the bed, open the phone browser, and search for articles in the Italian press from eight months ago and onward. It's still a generic enough search to not be suspicious.

Ok, my Italian notions aren't that strong but despite machine translation, I don't find what I'm expecting. There are no articles about Marco's death. It means that grampa was very efficient in keeping it low profile, likely for the mob enemies to not see it coming or to not take advantage.

There are a few articles saying that he is leading his companies again and has become increasingly more active in business but that's it.

When I am about to close the matter I stumble upon an old article, from maybe a year ago showing Marco with grampa Medici. Air stops in my throat. I don't have any photos of him or of us, here with me. I trashed all my old stuff, not that I had a lot to begin with.

The only place I see him nowadays is in my nightmares. Dreams, but most would qualify as nightmares.

Yet here in this photo, he is still alive and smirks probably irritated at what Lorenzo was saying. It's very much like him. In regards to us, I mostly feel guilt and pain. An excruciating amount. But right now I feel I miss him more than anything else.