A Reason to Live

Reasons

"You don't need a reason to live...you just live..."

"The reason I didn't kill you...is because I didn't want to kill you..."
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Bang...

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Angelo opens his eyes as he grabs his chest, panting, trying to calm himself down. The ringing from the gun shot still echoing in his ears.

"Fuck..." he covers his eyes with his palms, trying to calm down. It had been over three months since Nero had left him on the beach...alive.

The Galassia had followed them all the way to Florida and continued to chase after Nero even after he abandoned Angelo that day. They didn't notice he was wondering down the beach in a daze.

Why hadn't Nero aimed the gun at him? Why did he spare him a second time?

The only thing that kept Angelo going, was the curiosity of Nero's decision. He didn't care about the Galassia finding him, but he still kept a low profile, keeping to himself, like he had in Italy.

He wanted to find Nero and ask him why he left him alive. He was also curious that if Nero was given a third chance, would he hesitate this time?

Angelo had nothing left to loose. No family, no friends, no one to worry about anymore. The only problem was that he didn't know where to start looking and a small part of him was hopeful that if he stayed near where Nero had left him, he might return.

"Why..." he whispers to himself, uncovering his eyes to stare up at the blank ceiling of his small room. "Why did you leave me alive Nero?"

No matter how many times he asked that question, he never got an answer.  

He laughs at himself as he slowly pulls the blanket back, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed and sits up. He had eaten his last can of pineapple slices last night, which meant it was time to head into town again. 

He grabs the wallet he stole last week off of a tourist and stuck it in his back pocket, before he put his jacket on and heads outside.

The crisp air was refreshing, hitting Angelo's face as he walked down the beaten path towards town. He scoffed the gravel from the tips of his shoes, kicking them in front. It reminded him of the small pebbles he once tried to juggle when he had gone on the run with Nero.

Nero had been an enigma from the moment Angelo met him, dressed in disguise as they fought against Fango and laughed as they escaped. Over the next three months together, Nero never ceased to surprise him.

Planting his fists firmly in his coat pockets, Angelo continued down the path, remembering more bitter sweet memories.

He really did enjoy the ocean. The sounds of the waves crashing and the crisp scent of salt in the air calmed him down.

Angelo got to the outskirts of town and headed straight for the local pharmacy for supplies, passing by the local tavern on his way.

It had been three months since he had tasted Lawless Heaven, no other whiskey compared to the one his childhood friend Cortero made from his kitchen.

He had tried the tavern a few times when he first arrived, but they didn't serve anything that could quench his thirst, maybe this time they would.

He made a detour after picking up a weeks supply of pineapples.

Cigarette smoke and cheap booze filled his lungs as he stepped inside the small tavern. Angelo glanced over at the bartender and headed straight for the bar.

"A shot of your strongest," he asked, sitting down on the bar stool, placing a dollar on the counter.

"Here ya go," the older gentleman smiles, placing the shot in front of Angelo. "It's been awhile since you came in? How are things down by the sea? How's the book coming along?"

"Thanks...they are nice and quiet. I'm about half way through the book. The mafia family just found out there's a mole," he smiled, faintly to the bartender.

A writer was the only cover he could think of that would allow him the privacy he needed, without a lot of questions and writing down his experience with the Vanetti's and Galassia's, helped him sort of his feelings a little clearer. Regret was always lingering in his heart, but the more he wrote about what happened, the lighter his heart felt.

"Oh man," he laughs. "That's gotta hurt to know one of your own is a traitor. I can't wait to read it."

"Yeah, I'll make sure I get you a copy," Angelo picks up the glass and quickly swallows the liquor. "Mmm, this is good, better than last time...it's almost like..." the warmth of the booze makes his stomach flip.

Lawless Heaven...but how?

Looking around the bar, his eyes search for Cortero, something familiar...but his friend couldn't possibly be there with him...not after what Angelo did.

One day he'd get to apologize properly to his friend, his brother. Cortero was probably laughing at him and how sentimental he was being.

"Damn..." Angelo smiles down at the glass. "That's some pretty good booze."

"It's brand new, just came in a few minutes ago," the bartender laughs, pulling the bottle out from behind the counter, placing it in front of Angelo. "Lawless..."

"Heaven..." Angelo finishes his words.

"So you've heard of it?" He laughs, wiping down the bar."That's great. The fellow that brought it in was a little sketchy, but once I tried it, I couldn't refuse. This is some of the best whiskey I've ever had."

"Yeah...it's my favorite..." Angelo smiles, his stomach feeling uneasy.
"Can I get another shot?" He asks, fully aware that this might be his last chance to enjoy the sweet liquid he helped create.

But now the question was, who brought it here?

"Make it a double..."

Angelo can't help but smile as he turns toward the voice and looks onto a set of steel blue eyes.

"Avillio..."

"...Nero."