Shades of Grey

Part 5: He can't stop thinking about Her

Part 5: He can't stop thinking about Her

She has visited me every night in my dreams. No matter what I do, I can't stop thinking about her. Her eyes; her laugh; her smile; they flash continuously through my mind like an incessant slideshow. I have been depressed ever since I left her. I haven't left the darkness of my own room, deciding to wallow in my own misery rather than face the cruel outside world without her.

"Blake!" I could hear my best friend and cousin, Benny, shouting from outside his room's closed door,

"Romeo Blake Montaguelli if you don't get out here and eat, I will get a switch and beat your bottom just like I used to do when you were un ragazzino!" My aunt yelled in her strong Italian accent. I didn't like to admit it, but I was a little afraid of my zia, even more so than my padre.

I opened up my bedroom door and walked out with my head down. Zia handed me the plate full of my favorite pasta dish, fettuccini, and I took it without a word. I looked up to see Benny's face twisted in disgust.

"Dude, you smell like you haven't showered in years! And what's that smell coming from your room!? It smells like something died in there!"

"Only my heart," I whispered my voice hoarse from lack of use. My zia
looked at me in concern, but Benny shooed her away, saying that this was something only a "man-to-man chat" could fix. She walked away reluctantly, and I turned to return to my room and eat my pasta.

I was stopped abruptly by a hand on my collar. I turned to Benny sharply, a deadly glare in my eye. He must have forgotten who the Boss was here. He held his hands up in surrender.

"Sorry cugino, but I couldn't let you go back into your room knowing that you would just lock yourself up there for another few weeks without talking, eating, or sleeping. I mean I know you were a little torn up when Rosalinda cheated on you and was sent to a convent by her parents, but I didn't think you were that into her where you would cry."

"I wasn't crying," I told him, glaring at him vehemently. It was a lie, but I didn't need people to start talking. If I was gonna be a boss then I needed respect; I needed people to fear me. And I was so far over Rosalinda that I even forgot she existed. She was a slut anyway and I never loved her, my ego was just bruised because she cheated on me with a black man.

"Im sorry cugino, but everyone knows you were. We could hear your sobbing in the hallways. Some of the lower ranks have started talking. They think that you are too weak to lead them. The higher ups know better than to say anything, but I can tell some of them are staring to speculate as well. I know better, cugino, but you have to show them that they are talking about the wrong man. You need to show them that you are the fiercest, scariest, and most ruthless mob boss if all of America and Italia. You need to make them beg your forgiveness for even uttering your name and weak in the same sentence. And about the Rosalinda situation; she is nothing special. I bet I could take you out and find you a thousand Rosalinda's that would be very willing to warm your bed cugino. Matter of fact, I heard that the Capulets were hosting some kind of party tonight, and I say we crash it. They are blacks, but they throw some wild parties. Plus, those black girls are curvy, and I heard they were wild in bed too."

I frowned at him in disgust, but he did have a point. I needed to get out and show everybody that my papa did not make a mistake in choosing me to take over the business instead of Benny.

"You're right, Benny," I told him, "I'll go to this party, but first I have to take care of something."

He nodded, and then left. I walked into my room, and took a shower. When I was done, I reached under the bed to grab something before making my way downstairs. I walked into the living room where the gang members were playing a game of poker, smoking my merchandise, and slacking off. Yeah, this definitely needs to change.

I cleared my throat. They all looked over at me, and then turned back to what they were doing as If they hadn't seen me standing here. Now, I was mad. I took my gun out of my pants and cocked it. I pointed it to the ceiling and fired three deafening shots. Everyone went quiet as they looked over at me.

"Now that I have your attention, why are you sitting here doing nothing when you should be out making me money?" I looked around at all of them. No one said a word, "Is no one going to answer me? I believe I asked a question."

A man older than me by about five years stepped up, "We ain't gotta answer to you, ragazzino. Shouldn't you be up in that room of yours, crying? I wonder what your padre was thinking when he picked you. This is a gang, not a book club. Go buy some tampons and leave the business to the real men," He started laughing. The other joined in, but stopped when they saw the feral look in my eyes.

"Is that what you all think?" I looked around at all of them. Once again, nobody answered me. The man stopped laughing finally, realizing that he was the only one.

"No? Well, just in case you do, let me show you what happens when you think you are allowed think anything about me."

I held my gun up and shot that man in the head. He was dead instantly. The remaining men looked at his dead corpse lying on the carpeted floor, blood leaking from the gunshot wound in his head.

"Does anyone else have anything to say? No? Well then, get back to work!" They all scurried off like little rats, leaving just me, Benny, and the corpse. Benny looks over at me with a sadistic smirk, an evil glint in his eye; an expression that I am sure is mirrored within my own face.

He walks over and pats me on the back; says, "Well, it looks like the old Blake is back," and then he walks off.

Oh yes, I am most definitely back.