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CHAPTER 6 - MARCUS
So, she hates me, but that can change. And she insists she'll never desire me, but that isn't true. Her eyes and her body betray her there. She wants me now, but she can't admit that to herself. And she thinks all the worst of me. I would tell her the truth, of why she's really here, but I'm not completely sure on that yet either, but I can be sure she is in harm’s way out there. But she's not ready to hear all of that, and I'm not ready to tell her. Part of her desire is because I'm the bad guy.
Out of the cabin, there was the lake, glistening, crystal, pure, vast. It defied any descriptions, nestled in under the mountains, cold clear water, like a mirror when the sun is rising in the early morning. A few hundred yards away were the main cabin and a few satellite ones. It was time to see the Don, he should be up by now.
Sal was coming out as I was about to enter. “Morning.” He said.
“How's the old man?” I asked.
“Not good, but no worse than yesterday or a week ago.”
The Don had been ill for years, but the last 6 months he had taken a turn for the worse and the last month refused all medical care. He was supposed to be gone already, but he held on.
“Who's the girl?” He asked.
“Nobody.” I told him, and had a pang of jealousy there. Sal was my half-brother. I never knew Sal growing up, he lived with father while me and Michael lived with Mom. We knew him a bit, but his mother did not like us, so he didn't either. It's entirely possible he was jealous that the Don showered more affection on us during visits than him, but at the same time, I was jealous he got the normal family life here, while Michael and I went to boarding schools and all the rest, mingled with the upper crust while he and they would never be a part of that world. But they had the Family, which meant loyalty and love instead of the viciousness of the rich. Maybe a different sort of viciousness, an honest cruelty.
Everyone in this family had done jail for murder, theft, robbery and all sorts of things. In my other family, nobody ever went to jail, if they did it was for something white collar like insider trading or financial malfeasance- which was just another sort of robbery and theft, but stealing a car got you 3 years, stealing millions from poor pensioners got you a year of country club white collar jail. Then we had Uncle John who liked young girls and took vacations to Thailand and the islands out there so he wouldn't get caught. He was a child molester, but with enough money, it wasn't illegal. In this family a guy like that would have been killed, and the remains never found.
Another cousin from my other family was the founder of a shipping company. He made a habit of living on the islands, and the custom there was to have your daughter deflowered by the local rich man- which he was. When he died, there were hundreds of people claiming they were his heirs- illegitimate children of his deflowering virgins hobby- and they were probably right. The fight over his billions was a lawyers dream. My brother and I were even left some money, but I turned it down rather than get into that fight. The islanders needed it more than me. That was my legitimate family, the Morgan family. The Marletti’s were criminals and thieves, and degenerates, but somehow they were better human beings.
Sal would be in line for being the Don if I was out of the picture. He may still be since he was in this family his whole life and I was not officially until three years ago. The head of the family isn't always passed down to the oldest son, usually it's the best son, but if an uncle or someone outside the family proper is a better suit, then the captains choose him. The family was run more like a business than a family nowadays. I was smart, successful, clean as far as a rap sheet, but maybe too handsome, too interesting, too successful, too flashy to be able to run a mob family. Or too soft like a lot of them thought. I continually had to prove my ruthlessness here, just like when I worked on Wall Street, but most of these guys would learn a thing or two about ruthlessness if they had spent time with the people I did in my other life. News is bad for business, so if they wanted someone quiet, that would be fine too, and Sal would be the right choice.
But I did want it. I wanted power, respect, to tread that line between decency and criminality. I didn't need it, but I wanted it.
I went in and father was lying in bed, my heart stopped for a minute because he lay in the sunlight, and the man next to him was a priest. But Dad smiled and said something to the priest, who walked away past me. Father motioned for me to take the seat just left vacant by the priest. He could see the worry in my face and told me,
“He comes every few days now prepared to give me my last rites, but I humor him, annoy him. Your Uncle Carmine sent him, the one who was briefly a priest before he broke our mother's heart and left the priesthood. He didn't realize what celibate meant I guess. The priest here asked if I wanted to take confession, I asked ‘Why?’ ‘So you may be forgiven’ he said. ‘Don't I have to reject Satan for that?’ I asked. ‘Of course’ he said. I told him ‘Now isn't the time to make any enemies,’”
I laughed.
He hit my knee with his hand, gently, “Don't laugh, I stole that joke from someone else, can't remember who right now, but I always liked it, and hoped I could use it one day. Another thing off the bucket list I guess.”
“Voltaire,” I told him.
“What?”
“Those were Voltaire’s last words, so they say. A French writer from the 18th century.”
“Voltaire. Yeah. You’re too smart to be my son. Did you know he fixed the lottery? The king ran numbers to finance his wars, and Voltaire fixed it, made him a rich man, rich enough to write books.”
“I did know that. You and he would have got along well I think.”
He leaned in to whisper, but he was too weak to get his body completely over. He always did that when he wanted to tell me something important, like we were conspirators, “So I'm told I might get another thing off the bucket list too? You've brought some woman here with you? Might I get grandchildren in the near future?”
“Maybe from Michael, I'll call him and ask for you. This woman hates me right now.”
“Right now. That's OK, sometimes it's more fun if they hate you at first. Like your mom did me. How is Michael by the way?”
“Good. He’s good. I'm not sure the Senator can come here though to see you.”
“State Senator,” he corrected. “But hopefully more soon, Lieutenant Governor I guess. I know he can’t come visit someone like me, and I don't care, I'm greedy and selfish as a dying man has the right to be. I can't see him or any grand kids he gives me, but you and yours I can.”
“You sound like a Jewish mother right now you know that?” He laughed, and coughed.
“I'll bring her by to see you, maybe tomorrow.”
“OK, send the priest back in, I want to annoy him some more.”
I agreed and left. When I got back to the cabin. Anna was asleep. I thought of waking her, but instead just watched her sleep. Puffy cheeks, breast rising and falling, mouth slightly open, she looked lovely and vulnerable. I wanted her, but I could wait. I had to wait.
But I wouldn't wait that long.
She would come around, one way or another. Hopefully tomorrow because my cock ached for her, and whatever she said, her eyes ached for me. Tonight though, we would both have peace.
I slipped into bed beside her and listened to her breathe until I fell asleep. I smiled thinking of how pissed off she'd be if she woke first with me next to her.