TONY: Book 1 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]

19:

The drive is silent. Occasionally, he opens his mouth as if to say something, but he quickly shuts it. I refuse to eat, I'm not necessarily hungry, however the entire idea of food is nauseating. Toro stopped a while ago by a gas station and forced me to drink some water because I'm dehydrated, which is no surprise really- crying does that to you. During the first hour, he called Morgan and Nate, telling them about my circumstances, but I mostly blanked them out, tugging my knees to my chest and laying my head on my top; I've remained this way for the majority of the drive, my mind too awake to sleep despite how exhausted I feel.

Suddenly, the car rings and a name flashes on the screen on the centre of the dash: LEONE. This must be his brother and I hesitantly glance at Toro who's grip tightens on the wheel. He gnaws at his lip and meets my eyes, "Don't say anything."

I look away and resume my tired position but my ears are attentive.

"Accept," mutters Toro and he answers the call.

"Where the hell are you?" Growls a voice in a noisy background. "We could have used some muscle."

"Something came up."

The voice scoffs, "Fratello, what do you mean 'something came up'? Nothing comes up for you. You're too busy brooding silently in a corner or going out on business."
Toro doesn't respond.

"Fratello, what are you doing?"

"I'm going out of town for a couple of days."

"Where?"

"Somewhere."

"If it's about what padre said—"

"This has nothing to do with him," He snaps, causing me to jut from my position. My foot kicks the dash and I wince, freezing in fright as the voice comes from the speaker.
"What was that?"

"None of your concern, Leone. Get Marcos to look out for you."

"You are my fratello, yet you hide things from me? You're digging yourself a hole, Toro."

"No I am not. Not everything in my life concerns you," he bites.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he mutters. "Oh, hello Toro's friend. I hope you know how dangerous he is."

I don't reply as my throat thickens and my eyes widen, I throw Toro a worried glance as he quickly cuts the call. I sigh, leaning my head on the glass.
"We've got half an hour left," Toro mumbles.

"Was that your brother?" I croak, my voice hoarse and painful.

"Yes," he whispers. "But let's not talk about him."

"Distract me," I respond. "Tell me about yourself."

He hesitates, glancing at me, "I'm not sure if I should—"

"Toro, please."

He sighs and shakes his head, "I'm from Italy. I have a mother and a father and two younger brothers. We are a normal family, only we have dark intentions."

"Drug dealing?" I ask. "That's not so extreme."

"We don't just deal drugs, Zackary. We make drugs. We are a gang, have been for three generations," he sighs. "It's a tough life."

"Oh," I pause. "So was that your brother? Leone?"

"Yes."

"Why are you named after animals? That's a bit weird," I mumble tiredly, my eyes drooping.

"It's kind of titles or nicknames we are recognised by."

"So you're called Toro because you're all muscly and strong?"

He chuckles lightly, the sound warming my sullen heart, "Yeah, that obvious?"

"Only slightly," I muse, but it quickly drops and I tighten my eyes. "How do you cope?"

"What do you mean?" He asks me.

"I mean, when you go through something tough and painful, how do you cope?" I breathe.

He sighs, "Not well. I usually reach for alcohol, punch a bag or someone, keep to myself... but you're not me Zachary."

I don't reply.

"What was she like?"

I bite my lip, "U-uh, sh-she was..."

"You don't have to tell me," he rushes.

"No," I sniff. "No, she was tired. She had been fighting for so long, no wonder she couldn't stay sane."

"Why was she like that?"

"Life didn't do her well," a tear leaks down my cheeks as memories flash in my head. "Life was so, so cruel to her. She was beautiful, so happy when I was a kid- until..."

"That thing."

"Yeah," I whisper. "That thing. That's when she met my step dad- or bumped into rather. He was there for her, until he turned to drugs and alcohol. He loathed me though, with every fibre of his being- but I kept quiet so my mom was happy."

"That was good of you."

"No," I whisper. "No it wasn't. His true colours shone through, he showed us to his friends, became drunk more regularly, stole money from her... it we'd only a matter of time before he actually hit her." Waterfalls leak from my eyes and a sob echoes through my chest. Toro doesn't say anything, nor does he judge me either, he just allows he company to comfort me as harsh cries rip me through my core. God mom, I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to leave you. I thought I could save you, but I'm just as guilty for murder as you are for suicide.

Toro begins singing, his voice quiet but calm, soothing like the lapping of waves as he angelic but rough voice strangely brings me back to reality. I look at him through blurry eyes as he moves his lips to an Italian song, the pace slow and fluid, attractive but sweet. His grip loosens on the wheel and my tears slowly stop. Soon, my head is just rested on my knees as I watch him in fascination as he continues the lullaby, his perfect, strong face contrasting to the sweet lyrics and filling me with hope.

"You sing," I whisper.

"Yeah," he looks at me for a split second. "You best not tell anyone though."

"I wouldn't."

"Thank you, go to sleep Zachary. I'll wake you up," he promises.

"Okay dokay," I mumble tiredly.

As I doze off into oblivion, I swear I hear him sigh and mutter, "God, what are you doing to me?"