41:

1.2K 52 0
                                    

A two story, American dream themed house stares down at the street bellow, it's white picket fence like perfect teeth jutting out of the kept, vibrant grass as the porch swing groans in protest. The windows look blankly at the world, however they scream that something dark, sinister and eerie happened inside: a death. Any onlooker would glance at the yellow walls and assume that nothing occurred, that a happy family lived here with a beautiful wife, a successful husband and an intelligent child with a promising future; only someone who's been inside would know that a facade is just that. A facade. A masquerade hiding the tragedy of what occurred inside of this home. Rather tragedies, since the 'successful husband' was an alcoholic and the 'beautiful wife' was abused along with her 'intelligent child', who's future is but a mystery due to his shadowed past. Now she's dead, her child immersed in an underground, illegal world where his new life has blossomed from toxin and his death is but another shadow.

"Zac?" Whispers Morgan, taking my elbow gently.

I snap out of it, sniffle and blink, realising that tears were pouring down my cheeks as memories flood my thoughts like moths to a flame, any previous content now out of the window as I stare with wide eyes at this horrendous place I once called home.

"Uh— let's go inside," I mutter.

"Do you need to call Tony?"

"I don't want to disturb him. Plus it's a bit pathetic if I can't do this by myself," I respond lightly, my throat thick.

"Nobody should do this alone," she says, wrapping her arms around my abdomen. "Go call him. I'll open up the house."

I hand her the keys as I swipe my cheeks and pull out my phone, hesitantly dialling Tony's number. I press the mobile to my ear and look around the street, remembering the names of my neighbours. Tony picks up, "Zachary?"

"Hey," I breathe. "I-I didn't want to disturb you."

"You're not disturbing me, I was waiting for you to call. Are you at the house yet? How are you feeling?"

"Shit. I didn't realise just how shit until I got here and looking at the house... Gosh. It's horrible."

"I'm sorry I didn't come, I wish I could be there but after what happened last time— I want you to breathe. Okay? Take it slow, nobody is asking you to be strong," he consoles. "Now walk into the house with me on the phone."

I mumble a yes before walking up the steps, towards the ajar front door that I used to run through everyday, "How's things at the gang house?"

"It's okay," he sighs. "Lonely without you. I have no idea how I managed before you came. I feel like I want to talk to someone, but not just anyone; I've never been into socialising."

"I know," I laugh lightly, pushing the door open and stepping in. "You barely ever speak to anyone. Why's that?"

"Never felt the need to," he answers. "Are you inside yet?"

My speech falters. Looking around I notice beer cans littering the floor, the open planned living room, dining room and kitchen are messy as if there was a struggle- I know my stepdad is up to this.

"Zachary?"

"It's a mess," I sob. "If my mom was alive it'd be neat, tidy and maintained, but she's not- of god." Cries rake through my body, causing me to tremble next sniffle, my breathing becomes laboured as I go onto my knees. Why does she have to be gone? Why couldn't she have talked? I could've helped... I could've... I was helping by going to college. I was.

"Zachary, find Morgan," Tony commands, his voice strained.

"Morgan?" My voice cracks, but when I'm answered by silence, my anxiety grows. "Morgan?" I ask louder, still no answer. My throat dries and I hastily wipe at my tears, "She's not answering."

TONY: Book 1 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]Where stories live. Discover now