Whispers: A game of Lies & Deceit

Mercenaries

I was awakened by the strong vibrations of my mobile phone. An agitated Vito, in a feigned calm manner accompanied by occasional coughing, inquired about what had happened last night and my current location.

After informing my deputy of Rafaele's health and Silvio's (unreported) home, I hung up. Pressing the corner of the phone to my lips, I closed my eyes and felt the stinging pain of inconsolable tears pouring down for hours; my nasal mucosa was dry and my throat ached for water.

Emotional exhaustion based in the chest area accompanied me throughout the morning and when I got out of bed and went to the mirror, I realised that the inner pain was beginning to take its toll on my appearance — lack of sleep, too much coffee and nicotine, the tears made me look like a dead man with sunken cheeks and swollen eyelids, a red nose and dry lips, the tips of my hair were split and I looked more like a haystack.

I used to look in the mirror and smile at my own reflection. In those days my family was together, my father and Nicholas were alive; my blue eyes, like a bright sky, radiated life, and my cheeks and blonde hair added to the radiance. I didn't know what I had become.

The hot shower didn't cheer me up, but it warmed my limbs and the blood rushed to my face, hiding my discomfort.

My suspended state prevented me from lifting the weight on my chest, and wiping my skin sharply with a towel. I tried to wash away the feeling of being involved in yesterday's incident.

My head was heavy and ached intensely, making me want to sink into a soft bed and not move for hours or 24 hours, but a boring feeling in my stomach reminded me to eat, so with a conflicted feeling I made my way to the ground floor.

Weakness in my body slowed my movements and black spots began to reappear in front of my eyes, but in the kitchen I managed to find some hard-boiled eggs, which I quickly peeled from their shells and popped into my mouth, barely managing to chew.

I washed my breakfast down with water and took a deep breath, feeling the tremor slowly fade and leave my body. The weakness remained, but I had the grace to make my way to my brother's bedroom.

I noticed the half-open door to Rafaele's bedroom and hurried over. Lynette was sitting on the edge of the bed, Silvio was standing with his back to me in his usual position: arms crossed over his chest, but I could see how tense his muscles were. I was sure he was frowning. For a second I thought my brother was getting worse, but later Rafaele started to talk. He was awake.

"Good morning, sista," Rafaele said with a sudden cheerful smile. I moved closer to his bed and sat down in Lynette's place, who turned away reluctantly at the sight of me and stood by the window; the girl hated me after last night, her psyche needed time to adjust to the family she was in.

"Morning, Rafaele," I blinked suspiciously, rubbing his short blonde hair, "how are you feeling?" my innate concern for my brother's life receded into the background at the sight of his bright sea blue eyes glowing with happiness as if yesterday had never happened.

"Like a mosquito bite," the man grinned back, continuing to gnash his teeth, to which I only lowered my gaze and pressed my lips together to hold back a chuckle, "as usual," he waved his good hand, to which I imperceptibly breathed a sigh of relief.

A pleasant warmth spread through his chest from the fact that his brother was all right, despite the wound in his shoulder, "you've improved your driving. Have you been taking lessons?" Rafaele clarified, not missing the opportunity to end with a joke that made me roll my eyes, which I immediately regretted because of the sharp pain.

"Yes," I picked up on his joke, "how to drive with a bleeding passenger. A special course," Rafaele nodded happily, glad I wasn't hyperactive, then turned to the window where Lynette was standing — I wasn't sure what caught his attention more, the view out the window of the unknown room or his wife