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5

Chapter 5

The days dragged by, my father and unlce were busy as ever, my mother and aunt spent their days either crying or cooking. Our house was filled with food, lasagna, gnocchi's, cannolis, and every other Italian dish you could think of. There was a constant hustle around our house, the voices and footsteps of men never ceasing. I hadn't left my room except for dinner, not speaking or even being spoken to. I ate in silence, and in a daze. Not thinking about anything in particular, but not being able to snap out of it.

I felt completely numb from the pain of losing my brothers. I was stuck in a cycle of crying myself to sleep, while holding a ddeath grip on a stuffed moose they gave me when I was 5, and waking up with bile in my throat and unleashing everything in my stomach into the toilet with an aching chest.

Loss was something I had always been surrounded by, it was something my fathers dealt with for a living and I had heard about numerous circumstances in which valued men and Caden would be taken from us, but one thing I wasn't accustomed to, was it being so close to home. I felt as if an entire piece of me had been ripped from me, while the open wound had acid poured on it. It was awful, absolutely dreadful to try and wrap my head around the fact that they were gone. I had spent the last two weeks sleeping through all the pain, barely coherent enough to attend dinner each night.

*****

On the third night, sleep was evading me and I went down stairs to the basement where a makeshift pub was set up for all the men to hangout in after work. They never went to actual bars, due to my fathers enemies lurking around every corner and now everyones safety was at risk. I grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and in 10 minutes half the bottle was gone. The alcohol burned my throat as it ran down it, settling in my stomach and creating a warm fuzzy feeling within me. My head began to feel numb as the effects of drinking so much so fast began to hit me. My mind was hazy, my body felt limp and my heart ached less.

The sound of footsteps sounded from above me, making their way to the entrance of the basement. Being of legal age and clearly in distress, I wasn't even a little bit worried about getting into trouble. As the footsteps descended down the stairs I took another swig of the whiskey. My gaze was set forward with the stairs and approaching guest behind me. I felt someone sit on the barstool next to me. I peeked out of the corner of my eye and saw the familiar head of dark hair and knew exactly who had joined me.

Without a word, Jake grabbed the bottle from my hands and took a giant gulp before placing it on the counter between us. I retrieved it back and took two decent sized sips before turning completely to look at him.
"We don't have to talk. Just thought you should have some company. Its one thing to drown out your sorrows, but its another to do it alone." He said as he stood up and walked around to behind the counter grabbing two glasses and making margaritas for us.

"Do you think the pain will ever go away?" I blurted, reaching for the bottle of tequila. Pouring salt on my hand, I licked it off, took a shot and bit into a lime. The burn of the tequila and the sourness of the lime, making my face contort into disgust, earning a chuckle from Jake.

"Time heals, it doesn't erase. The pain will ease up, but not completely disappear, I think. I think after a while the pain of the memories of them will be replaced with happieness and gratitude of what wou guys were able to share together." And with that he mimicked my tequila shot before shaking his head to try and rid his mouth of the awful taste.

"Whenever I think of them my heart hurts, physically aches, like I can feel each fiber being ripped out. I want to think of them and be happy. I don't want to be sad anymore. They wouldn't want me to be sad." I whispered to him as he made his way back to me. I picked up the margarita and took a long sip, licking the excess salt off my lips.

"Then be happy. Do what makes you happy, youre young, you have so much to experience, don't let this hold you back. You know theyd be disappointed to see you moping around and getting wasted off your ass." He said with a firm but caring tone, before starting his drink. I nodded in acknowledgement before finishing off my glass.

"Want to watch TV? Youre having a hard time sitting up straight." Jake laughed staring at woblly posture on the stool.

"I think that's the best option right now." I chuckled before grabbing the bottle and making my way to the couches.

We spent the night laughing at everything and giggling at nothing. The pain in my chest slowly disappearing and the thoughts of my brothers gone. I felt momentary happieness and that's all that mattered in the moment.

I woke up the next day passed out in my room with the bottle lying next to my leg, my head pounding and the urge to throw up present as ever. It was a nice release from the pain but when the sun rose the next morning it all came flooding back. The ache had lessened but didn't cease completely. I guess it was a step in the right direction of healing, even if it was an unhealthy coping mechanism.

*****

As I made my way down stairs to find juice to quench my thirst, my footsteps stopped in front of my fathers office. Now that I think of it the house seemed eerily quiet. The only sounds were the muffled voices behind the door in front of me. I pressed my ear to the door to try and hear better and the conversation I overheard was anything but what I had been expecting.

"So what does this mean, Marco?" that voice belonged to an unknown man, british accent thick and tone chilling.

"It means nothing as of right now. Our girls are safe and that's all I care about right now." My fathers voice.

"Hes back and hes not stopping. We cant just sit back and allow him to get away with this. You've retaliated towards him before, this time end it once and for good." Giano.

"We're not going to make any decisions based on one threat-" my father began but was abruptly cut off by my uncles booming voice.

"ONE THREAT? Marco he killed your sons. This is just his next step. He wont stop until our entire families, hundreds of men we work with and WE are under the ground with Vinny and Tony."

I gasped at the realization that someone was after my entire family because of something my father had done. This whole time I thought my brothers death was just a heist gone wrong. It happened all the time but usually the ones the men of my fanily went on were clear of any twist of events.

I ran from my post in front of the door to the kitchen before I could hear anymore. I felt a panic attack coming on, my limbs shaking, my breath hitching and getting quicker and more shallow. I held onto the island for support as my clenched knuckles turning white as I tried to inhake deeply and slow down my racing heart.

I don't know what this conversation meant for my family or my safety but I knew that I needed to make sure that I would be able to handle whatever would be thrown my way. I don't know exactly how to go about that yet, but first things first, I needed to find Jake.

After knocking on his door, a groggy response was heard on the other side of the door. His job was to protect me and my family, but mostly would come to my aid before anyone elses. Each individual family member had their own "Jake" and all the Jakes had their own room here in the house. the concept was for our family to have a security team of 9 men, including my brothers security, enough to handle a crisis but in the event one of us needed to go out alone we had our own personal body guard. Like when I went shopping for my dress for the funeral, jake came and when my aunt and mother go grocery shopping two me accompany them.

After a minute or two the door swung open, revealing a very tattoed upper body and sweatpant clad jake. I pulled my eyes up from checking him out to find him doing the same thing to me. My sudden awareness that I wasn't wearing a bra underneath my baggy tshirt and very short shorts. I subconsciously crossed my arms to cover myself before coughing to bring his gaze to mine.

"You knocked?" he aked before retreating back into his room. I followed him into his room and went to sit at his desk while he went to sit on his bed.

"Yeah, theres something I need to ask you." Here goes nothing.

"Whats up Soph?"

"I overheard my dad and uncle and some british guy were talking and I only heard bits and pieces but I basically gathered that my entire family is in danger even you guys are. My brothers weren't killed because they weren't in the wrong place at the wrong time, but because of something my father did and basically what im asking is for you to help me. Teach me to fight, show me how to shoot, help me use whatever abilities I have to be able to defend myself." I rambled out in one long breath. I inhaled deeply before looking up at him and making eye contact.

He stared back at me with wide eyes, face paled as if hed seen a ghost. A few miutes went by before he spoke.

"Soph.."

"No, Jake. Don't make excuses. Please. Please help me." I was begging now but I didn't care. All I cared about was being able to help my family.

A few more minutes went by before the silence broke, "Fine. I will help you. But this is between us. If your father finds out what im helping you with, hed personally put a bullet through my head. Deal?"

I nodded, completely understanding his fears of my dad finding out. "Deal."

"Alright, we'll start tomorrow."