Five Years Old or Twenty
**ROMANY**
I nearly wet my pants when I hear Santos’ voice. Somehow in the short amount of time that I’ve been in his presence, I’ve come to associate him with safety.
And now, not only is Ruby here, but so is he.
*Thank the holy ghost.*
My eyes are swelling *badly* so I can’t really see Delgado as clearly as I’d like, but what I *can* see shows a man on the verge of panic. A man that thought he had everything mapped out, but is starting to realize maybe this whole fiasco was a mistake. Because Antony Angeletto has been slowly but surely making his way toward the back door and Angeletto Senior has yet to return from his phone call with Alex.
I hear Ruiz speak from behind my head, “Baja el arma, padre. Se terminó.” *Put the gun down, father. It’s over.*
Delgado’s face purples and he takes a step forward, *closer,* putting the barrel of his gun maybe a silly little inch or two away from my nose and although I fight it, I can feel my body trembling, and my finger on the revolver hidden beneath my shirt twitches. “¿Qué estás haciendo, hijo? ¿Te estás poniendo del lado de la perra que mató a tu hermano? ¿O de su puta prima?” *What are you doing, son? Are you siding with the bitch that killed your brother? Or her whore of a cousin?*
I feel Ruiz’s hands slink over my shoulders, his thumbs poking into my shoulder blades almost painfully. *Purposefully.* As if he’s trying to convey a message to me, or get me to do something. He says, “Ninguno. No se trata de eso, se trata de negocios. Has estado tan enfocado en la venganza durante tanto tiempo, que es lo único que puedes ver.” *Neither. It's not about that, it's about business. You've been so intent on revenge for so long, that it's all you can see.*
Delgado releases a dark chuckle then his lips draw upward in a sneer. “I always knew you were a traitor. The *weakest* of my sons. It should’ve been you that died. Not your brother.”
Ruiz’s hands tense on my shoulders and for a moment I feel sorry for him, wondering to myself how long he’s had to deal with that kind of resentment. That kind of… disappointment.
Ruiz hisses, “Eso es gracioso, padre. Siempre he creído lo contrario. Si él hubiera sido más como yo, seguiría vivo. Al menos yo sé cuándo cortar mis pérdidas.” *That's funny, father. I've always believed the opposite. If he had been more like me, he'd still be alive. At least I know when to cut my losses.* “Now put the gun down.”
“I don’t think so, mijo. It seems you're a little too attached to this whore and as your father, it’s up to me to cleanse you of your vices,” Delgado says before pressing the barrel of the gun against my forehead.
I close my eyes, time standing still for the moment, the cold hard steel resting within my palm *begging* me to pull the trigger. It is right then that I realize I haven’t heard Ruby’s voice in the last five minutes. Not at all.
*Where is she? Where did she go?*
If I know my cousin, and I *definitely* do, she’s up to something. That knowledge soothes me, but not by much.
Loud footsteps sound as Santos steps even further into the room, but when he stops next to the sofa, the footsteps don’t cease. They keep coming. Not heavy or rushed, but clipped. A different sound. The sound of expensive Italian shoes.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Delgado,” an extremely familiar voice says. One that has me turning my head despite that there’s a gun pushing into my brow.
*Mickey!*
His vibrant green eyes meet mine, his gaze flaring wide at the sight of me and his jaw clenching in anger. “What happened to her face?” Mickey fairly snarls, and I swallow a lump in my throat, hardly feeling it when Delgado snatches me by my hair and yanks my head back around.
“You should show my gun a little more respect, Puta,” he hisses, before turning his attention back to Mickey. “Have you come for your bitch, Scavo?”
“Are you the one that touched her?” I hear Mickey ask, his voice strained. “Tell me, Delgado, does it make you feel like a man when you beat on a woman half your size?”
“I have news for you, eh,” Delgado spits. “This is not a woman. This is a whore. She’s been fucking my son too. He’s been bewitched by her.” He looks down at me. “It’s up to me to break the spell.”
“Uncle,” Santos hisses, “Don’t do it. What do you want, huh? You want me to step down? You want me to hand over my territories to you? Whatever you want. I’ll do it. Just put the gun down and leave.”
“Oh-ho-ho!” Delgado laughs, his eyes lighting up with greed. “I had *no* idea how valuable this piece of pussy was. Now that I do, maybe I should consider keeping her.” He looks down on me, lowering his gun so that he can trace my lips with the tip. “Open your mouth, Puta, eh? Let’s see how well you suck on my steel.”
He nudges my lips angrily, the metal tapping my teeth in the process and suddenly Ruiz words float back to me along with the increased pressure of his thumbs in my back.
*”...There are some things that cannot be done by my hand, so I will have to rely on yours… My father… Do not hesitate…”*
*Shoot him, Ro. You’re going to have to shoot him. You’re the only one he won’t be ready for. Or would you rather die?*
“You do realize, Delgado,” Mickey says, his voice sounding colder than I’ve ever heard it. “The very moment you shoot her, then *I* am going to shoot *you.* But it won’t stop there either. Then I will shoot your son, then your nephew, then I will fly back to the States and shoot your wife. Your dog. Your goddamned horses. After that, I will find every bastard child that you’ve ever birthed, and I will kill them too. I don’t give a fuck if they’re five years old or twenty, they will die. I will wipe every fucking trace of you off of this earth, and then I will leave your territories to the dogs. First come first serve. There will be no one left to avenge you and no one left to remember you. It will be as if you never existed at all and that is a promise. Now get that goddamned gun out of her face.”
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