by Sienna Blake
Nonna. My stomach twisted. How was I supposed to tell Nonna? How would I ever explain how I got him killed? How could she ever forgive me? All it took was a twitch of one finger. One careless, single movement. The entire futures of three people—Mercutio’s, Nonna’s and mine—were torn out of the pages of time.
My eyes focused past Julianna’s legs to Espinoza, towering like an executioner. “Stand aside, Capi,” he demanded. There was no remorse in his cold, hard voice. None. There was no paling of his skin, no slight quiver in his voice, like there had been in mine. He had been trained to kill. And he did his job. Who was the monster now?
“I won’t,” Jules said, widening her stance.
His face twisted in confusion, his eyes darting between Merc and me on the ground, and Julianna. He couldn’t understand why she was protecting us.
Mercutio was dead by his hand and he was confused.
This was his fault. His. Not mine.
A fury unlike any I’d ever felt before rose through me like a demon taking possession. I was no longer Roman but a demented succubus demanding what was right. Retribution. Justice. An eye for an eye. Mercutio’s soul was still hovering above us, torn from this Earth much too soon. It was only fair that Espinoza would be the one to escort him up to heaven.
Julianna’s gun glinted in her holster like the wink of an eye. Mercutio would never wink at me again. He’d never roll his eyes at me when I was being an ass. I snatched the gun from Julianna’s hip. It weighed nothing in my palm.
I saw Espinoza trying to aim for me, but Julianna was in his way. She would not move no matter how he screamed at her. He did not fire. He would not risk hurting Jules. For that I had to thank him. It was not enough to redeem him.
I had a clear shot of him under Julianna’s arm. I meant to aim for his heart. I meant to tear from him the thing he had torn from me. But my hands were wet with Mercutio’s blood and the nose of the barrel dipped. I pulled the righteous trigger. The second death crack sounded into the black, sticky night.
The hole appeared in Espinoza’s stomach and blood flooded his shirt. An eye for a bloody red eye. Julianna screamed, but it sounded so far away. She screamed as her partner began to fall, like a tree felled, heavy and straight.
The instant he hit the ground, all my brittle fury smashed apart like a vase, scattering into splinters, leaving me in consequences’ cold spotlight, tangled in the web of the blackened fate I’d spun myself.
Julianna let out a broken sob as she dove to Espinoza’s side. She placed her hands over his wound like I had done for Mercutio mere seconds ago. The pain of Mercutio’s death tore through me again, this time joined by the pain I saw on Julianna’s face.
I had shot Julianna’s partner. Her close friend. Her Mercutio. The gun dropped from my hands.
I am a Tyrell.
As if in answer, the night sky broke open with the scream of police sirens. I pushed myself up to my feet. I felt woozy, drunk from how the last minutes had scattered our four connecting lives in different directions.
The sirens were fast approaching. They’d be on us in minutes. Seconds. I stumbled towards Julianna, my empty hands reaching for her. Grasping for her. My life buoy, like a flash of honey hair over an angry black sea. If I could just grab hold of her.
Before I could reach her, Julianna grabbed another gun from her side, my gun that she’d taken off me. She pointed the single black eye towards me. An eye for an eye, until the world is drowning in blood.
Julianna had finally turned on me. We were finally on the two sides we were meant to be on. I had pushed her there. I wanted to fight it, to fight her.
I could not conjure any justification. I was a criminal and deserved to be treated like one. I lifted my bloody palms and tried to convey with just my eyes—my voice had been crushed in the sorrow clogging my throat—that I wasn’t angry. I understood.
“Jules…” I’m sorry.
“Leave.” Her top lip pulled up into a snarl even as her bottom lip wobbled and her hand holding the gun trembled. “Before I change my mind.”
She was letting me go. She wasn’t arresting me.
Even as relief broke over me, it couldn’t wash away the stains of my unworthiness. I didn’t deserve her mercy. Angel as she was, she bestowed it upon me anyway. Perhaps she could forgive me. I couldn’t leave without knowing she could one day forgive me. Perhaps love me again. “Just tell me—”
“Leave now,” she hissed, even as her voice broke. “Leave Verona. Go where you’ll never be found. Because the next time I see you, I will bring you in.”
Her answer was clear. She could never forgive me. Nor did I have any right to expect forgiveness. When I shot Espinoza, I severed the bond between us too.
Useless apologies gathered on my tongue. The fierce wailing of the police sirens blaring down on me silenced me and had me stumbling backwards. I shot one last look at Mercutio and Julianna, sending silent goodbyes to them both, before I slunk deep into the blackened bitter shadows where I belonged.
13
____________
Julianna
Roman slid into the shadows. The instant he disappeared, my anger was jerked out of me as if it were tied to him with a piece of string.
I dropped the gun and turned back to Espo on the ground. Shit. He was losing so much blood. Too much blood.
I pressed my hands to the mess on his stomach. “It’s going to be okay, Espo. Just hang in there.”
“Why didn’t you step aside?” Espo asked, his face screwed up. I was the reason he hadn’t been able to defend himself.
“I just...couldn’t.”
“But…” he winced, “why did you let him go? You had him, Capi.”
“I… He…” How could I explain to Espo? How could I excuse the man who had him lying there on the verge of death?
I shook my head.
“It looked like… You know him.” The accusation was clear in his broken voice.
How could I deny it? How could I keep lying to him when the truth was so clear? I couldn’t.
I nodded. “He’s not who you think he is,” I said, trying to justify myself. My voice sounded weak and limp.
The sirens screamed and tires screeched as help arrived. Relief flooded me. Help was here.
Espo blinked at me, becoming still. “He’s the rose guy…isn’t he?”
I nodded my head. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
Betrayal clouded his eyes. My stomach stabbed with a thousand swords of guilt. I couldn’t explain any further. Strong arms pulled me back from him as Espo was swarmed with paramedics.
14
____________
Roman
I destroyed my phone and tossed the pieces away so I couldn’t be tracked. I drove half out of my mind, somehow finding myself at my mother’s secret apartment. I ricocheted through the rooms with all the lights still off and stumbled into the shower with all my clothes on. I leaned my forehead against the cold tiles, watching Mercutio’s blood swirling down the drain.
It was only then I realized I’d broken all my father’s rules about leaving a crime scene.
No evidence, no weapon, no witnesses.
He’d be so disappointed in me.
It was on the radio when I stepped out of the shower.
“...a gang-related shootout in Little Italy between officers and what was believed to be members of the alleged Tyrell crime family. Mercutio Brevio, son of the infamous Tyrell accountant, Tito Brevio, was shot and killed. Detective Luiz Espinoza was shot at the scene and is in critical condition. No other perpetrators were apprehended at the scene.
Police are combing through the evidence but have no suspects as of this moment…”
I grabbed the closest thing to me, a vase, and threw it. It smashed across the wall in a shower of cream and red. Mercutio was not part of the Tyrell crime family. He was not a criminal. He was the best man I’d ever known. A good man. A nonviolent man who didn’t deserve Tito Brevio as his father and me, the monstrou
s Roman Tyrell, as his best friend. How easy it was to assume that he was just like the two of us. He wasn’t.
But he’d go down in the eyes of the public as just another criminal.
Nonna.
The blood drained from my limbs, pain ripping through me. Nonna would know by now. Dear God, I hope they were gentle when they told her. I hope they were kind.
I had to go to her, screw hiding. I had to comfort her, to fall apart alongside her, the only other person in this world who felt like I did right now.
Don’t be stupid, Roman. She wouldn’t want to see you again. She’d curse your name. Hate you. It was your fault he’s dead.
It was my fault.
Mercutio died for me.
I began to pace, pace, pace in this cramped apartment. Replaying every second of those fated moments in my head. Trying to bend the bullet’s trajectory. Each time failing. I watched Mercutio die over and over.
Every time it ripped me apart.
15
____________
Julianna
I sat with my elbows on my knees, staring at the orderly squares of linoleum across the hospital floor. The plastic seat creaked underneath me every time I shifted even slightly. I didn't know how long I’d been sitting there. Minutes. Hours. Outside, the dawn had come and gone, but inside this hospital, time didn’t seem to move.
“I’m sorry. He lost too much blood…”
God, the lights here were too harsh. They burned my eyes. I squeezed them shut, red staining the backs of my lids.
Damn you, Espo. Why did you have to show up when you did? Why did you have to shoot? You fired at an innocent man. You killed an innocent man. It was your own fault. Your prejudice killed you. You deserved your bullet. Even as that thought rose to the surface, guilt spread across me like spilled oil. How could I think that? How could I blame Espo? He’d only been protecting me.
I should have told him about Roman. I should have made Roman’s true character known. I’d stayed shrouded in my cowardly silence while a good man like Roman Tyrell was crucified by the world. This was my fault.
My eyes drew to the dark red half-crescents stained under my nails. I had washed Espinoza’s blood off my hands, but the evidence of my guilt was still there. I had stood in his way. I had stopped him from defending himself.
How could I have moved if it meant that it would have been Roman lying in the morgue instead?
In that cursed alleyway, clutching at Espo’s life as it bled away, I had blamed Roman for all of it. I had sent him away with callous words and the accusatory point of my gun. The broken look on his face haunted me. His best friend had just been killed and in that moment, all I could think of was my own wretched grief, blinded to my own part to play in this black tragedy. At the time when he needed me most, I let him down.
My shoulders slumped around my heart, crumpling in on itself from sorrow’s weight. So many pointed fingers. So many moments when it all could have been prevented. Now we had two deaths on our hands. The blame was a heavy chain that fell across all our shoulders. Nobody was innocent.
“Julu!”
My head snapped up. My father, his tie askew, his hair disheveled, strode down the hallway towards me.
“Dad,” slipped out from my lips like a prayer. I launched into his arms and clung to his neck like a nine-year-old who had just woken up from a nightmare. Any minute now I would wake up. Any second now…
He shushed at me, a sound like soft waves. “I’m sorry, Julu. So sorry. Espinoza was a good man.”
I nodded into his neck, letting his soft sweater soak up my tears. “I don’t know what to do, Dad,” I whispered.
“His mother’s been notified,” my father said, his thumb rubbing against my back. That was my father. Strong and calm even when things were falling apart around him. “She’s coming in with her brother.”
I nodded. I didn’t even think about who might need to be notified. I was so lost right now.
“Don’t worry,” my father said, his voice vibrating with its first timbre of anger. “We’ll get the bastard who did this.”
I froze.
“There are no usable fingerprints on the gun,” my father continued. “But you saw who did it, didn’t you?”
Roman. Roman did this. But it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault.
I tugged away from my father, my thoughts jumbling around in my brain. I was a witness. I could not keep this quiet. I had to tell the truth. Right? It was my duty to say what I saw.
Could I turn on Roman? Could I speak up against him knowing it’d be my words that would slam the bars closed on him for life? He shot a police officer. No judge in the world would be lenient. Even if it wasn’t all his fault. He was just reacting against Espo killing Mercutio.
How could I justify what Roman did? He killed out of anger, out of revenge, out of a sense of justice. How could I let Espinoza’s death go unpunished? How could I ever face his mother again knowing that I had the power to send her son’s murderer away and chose not to? How could I remain a cop?
My father gripped my shoulders. “It was Roman Tyrell, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?”
I had to turn him in. This was my job. My duty. I opened my mouth to speak the words. The memory of Roman’s broken face as I sent him away flashed in my mind. Somehow, I knew he wouldn’t be angry with me if I turned him in. He would understand. Because that’s who he was. He would be expecting it. The part of him that didn’t see his own worth, embracing it.
It’s okay, Jules, I could almost hear him whisper. You do what you have to.
This wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t. We were all to blame for creating a perfect storm resulting in two deaths. Even me.
They would never see it this way if I told them the truth. That’s not how the law worked. The law pinned the blame on the man who pulled the trigger, not on the unseen forces compelling him to do it.
“Julu?” My father frowned deeply at me.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t send Roman away for life. The thought of it made my heart twist in agony. It was wrong, even though it was the “right” thing to do.
“It was dark.” My tongue grew thick with my lies. “I didn’t see…”
My father let go of me like my skin had become poisonous. His face twisted from disbelief to incredulity to anger. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know who shot Espinoza.” My voice came out strained and weak. I hated lying to him. But it was the lesser of two evils.
“The bullet pulled from Mercutio’s body was fired from Espinoza’s gun. Espinoza’s death was a retaliation killing by Roman Tyrell. Admit it.” Disapproval radiated off my loving father, stabbing me across my torso.
But I wouldn’t break. I couldn’t. “I don’t know. I didn’t see.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Are you protecting him?”
“He isn’t what you think.”
“He is a Tyrell. They are monsters.”
If he just knew Roman like I did, maybe he would give Roman a chance. “He’s not like the rest of them. Father, if you only—”
“He killed your partner,” my father roared.
“Espo’s not innocent. He shot Mercutio, who didn’t even have a weapon on him.”
My father bristled. “So it was okay for Roman to kill him?”
“No, I just mean…” What did I mean? This gray brand of justice was never going to rest easy with my father, with the law. Espo had killed Mercutio, an innocent. In turn he was killed. An eye for an eye. It was a clean brand of justice. “Roman doesn’t deserve to go to jail.”
“He killed your goddamn partner, so why are you protecting him?”
My shoulders sagged as tears sprang to my eyes. I was never going to get through to him.
My father grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Tell me the truth or I swear to God I will have your badge.” His voice boomed out through the hospital corridor. Several nurses and orderlies gasped.
I felt all eyes focused on our public display. My face flamed with heat. So much for keeping up appearances. “I’ll arrest you myself for obstruction of justice.”
My stomach twisted. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
I pushed his hands off me. My father hated the Tyrells so much it made him demented. It was like my father pinned all the world’s faults at the feet of the Tyrells. He gave evil a name, a pulse, so it’d be easier to pull down. He couldn’t see, blinded by his prejudice, that the world was more shaded than pure black and white.
He shook his head as he paced in front of me. “My own fucking daughter. What does he have on you, huh? What does Roman Tyrell have on you?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why won’t you speak up against him? Are you afraid of him?”
“No.”
“I can protect you. The system will protect you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
“He saved me from those attackers. He stopped them from raping me.”
“He what?”
“You see, he’s good. He’s a good man. He’s caring and…”
My father stared at me like he didn’t even know me. “I can’t believe it.”
“I love him.” It came tumbling out.
There, I said it. I spoke the words. Now I couldn’t take them back. I chose where I stood. I would not falter.
“You…what?”
I gripped on to the sides of my pants for strength. “I’m in love with Roman.”
“N-No.” My father staggered back from me.
I stepped towards him, reaching for him, pleading with him. “I love him because I know the real him. If you just took the time to get to know him, you’d see what I see.”
My father’s wide eyes locked on mine. For a second I thought I had gotten through to him. For a single sweet second my two worlds met and coexisted.
His lips curled into a snarl. And my fantasy was shattered. “You don’t love him, you only think you do. And he doesn’t love you, he’s playing you, you stupid little girl.”