distant

**Luciano**

When I saw her face I knew something happened in that five minutes I was gone.

And it wasn't good.

"Kitten?" I call again. She shakes her head and smiles at me sweetly.

"Spacing out. I need to get a notebook, these stories keep coming to me. Let me help."

She throws my arm over her shoulder, and helps me hop back in bed. Literally hop.

This is not good. I can't afford an injury right now. Especially now, when it seems like Kitty will inflict another very soon.

"You sure you okay, Kitty?"

She frowns. "Honestly, it has been a trying day. But you have your own problems right now."

I doubt she was completely honest.

Whatever I did, it was bad.

The next morning, she gets me breakfast in bed.

"Good morning, Love. You have PT today. It's gonna suck, so...here's your I'm sorry your day is gonna suck breakfast."

Huh. She's right. This isn't really out of her usual behavior given the unusual circumstance. Still...

"What about you?"

"I ate." I smile. She poisoned me.

But I eat and nothing happens. I feel fine.

"Alright the doc is coming in here, so I'm gonna go see Deena for a few minutes.

I curse every one I know and their Momma's.

Shït, be prepared to the fan in five...four...three...two...one—

"I'm here! Did you know Nic and Dee were together."

The doctor comes in and I thank whoever is listening. I can't lie to her, but I promised not to tell the truth. But if I say nothing, she'll know.

Shit!

As promised my day did suck

As promised my day did suck. PT hurt a lot more this time round, and I felt it a lot harder. I'm almost thirty.

I frown. I don't wanna have kids when I'm like forty and the old dad, and...

I don't even know if Savannah even wants kids.

I'll have to ask her.

Or...

No. Just ask. Just ask.

That night...

"Savannah do want kids?"

"Maybe. Why?"

"Well, not right now but soon I'd like for us to a kid. Just one."

"Why?"

"I like kids. I've always wanted kids. Besides I don't wanna be the old dad."

She chuckles and nods. "Alright. We'll see hen this dies down."

We got in bed, and spooned.

Yes. I am a Mafia Don and I spoon my wife. Tell anyone and you die.

I turn the lights off, and listen to her breathe, feeling he heart thud against mine.

It take hours for me to fall asleep and just as I'm about to doze off Savannah ambushed me.

"You wouldn't lie to me, right baby?"

"Of course not."

"So you don't with old information, or keep secrets from me?"

My eyes fly open. Her body is still the trouble is whirling. She tried to set me up.

"No. Of course not."

"So I trust you. Right?"

"Yes. You can trust me."

"Good. Tomorrow I want to tell you all about my past.

Guilt swirls in my belly and churns a storm. I literally feel sick.

"Thank you, baby. I'll tell you mine."

"I'm glad I love a man I can trust."

Oh someone kill me.

That morning, there's breakfast, and there's her smiling at me

That morning, there's breakfast, and there's her smiling at me.

"I want to tell everything. It's kinda been weighing on me, the fact that I haven't told you. But you haven't asked-"

Because of that stupid folder.

"Anyway. It's a long story that no one really knows. Not even the courts. Or the government."

My skin prickles.

"In fact, half of the things in that court file was one fourth of what my mother did to me."

I set down my biscotti.

"It gets interesting around four or five. My Daddy died. My mother and Father loved each other, but only my father loved me. Mother never wanted me, and when Daddy died, she went crazy."

"Of course there's me the accidental child she never wanted. So naturally it was my fault. I got sick and Daddy went to get medicine. He got hit by a truck on his way home."

I push the plate further away.

"So a few days after the funeral my mother hit for the first time. If she could beat me my whole life I would've been grateful. I ruined her life. She was smart she was going places."

"She specialized in chemistry unfortunately for me. I'll leave some things out, of course, but here's the gist of it:"

"My mother loved drugs. At first she wanted to save people; then she wanted numbness. But when you spend every dime to your name on drugs an alcohol eventually you run out."

"She never thought her an actual job of course. She told me on my sixth birthday, that I owed her. I stole daddy and I ruined life and I was still here so I had to do my part."

She smiles sarcastically at me. "I guess you can see where that goes."

"Anyway, apparently I was a very hot commodity, so most of my days were...."

I watch her. I should've never read that file.

Savannah shakes her head, a brown wave falling in her face. She tucks it behind her ear.

"On the days I wasn't working," Push the plate further. "I was mother's slave, her punching bag, her walking, not talking, unfortunately breathing experiment."

"She was very creative. Very. First it was beatings. Then she would hold my hand on the stove until I could smell my flesh burning . She did that for a while."

I don't think I want to hear anymore. But I have to. And if she needs to than I want to.

"By the time I was nine, I had mastered her. Anything she did, had done before. She starting getting routine.

"The days she let me eat, the food was laced with ammonia. Every time. I would throw it up. I had to. Then on Tuesdays she'd torture me, I called it torture Tuesday. It was easiest day of the week."

"Physical torture? I learned to compartmentalize it and play along. The trick is to make her feel superior. You cry not too much, never beg. Ever. And scream. She feasts on screams of pain."

"I learned how to cope, and then she changed everything."

She smiles. I've been around crazy women all my life. But she? She rivals no, she surpasses Amanda.

No one has ever done that.

"Gas chamber. She built me my own personal gas chamber. I asked for a guillotine for Christmas but," she shrugs. "Potato potatao right? I really should saw it coming. She won that round. When she let me shower and I had no appointments I should've known."

"I thought Christmas spirit!"

"I only noticed it when she shut and locked the door. Then she out towels at the bottoms of the door to ensure I suffocated."

Didn't the Nazi's use gas chambers?

"The chemicals would sting my eyes, and it felt fire was on my skin. I dropped low on the floor, where the least amount steam was. Sometimes if that week was particularly tough I get something wet, and out it over my mouth. I risked the beating."

"Most times though, I stayed there until I passed out. And there were new combinations every time! Finally the worst in my opinion, and she ran me over with the car-twice. It was the drugs."

"She addicted me to all types of shit. I remember during the winter she would keep me outside unless I had an appointment, or I was gonna tortured. I remember shivering, an feeling so cold I felt hot. I would hallucinate and I loved it. Because not wasn't there. I couldn't feel anything until it wore off."

"As I got older though, I realized the catch. Those drugs were horrible, she souls give then to me and take it way. Withdrawals hurt worse than almost anything. It was the only thing that ever made me cry."

She stopped talking, and then just smiled at me.

"That's the Sparknotes version of my life. I could hardly talk to the police I was withdrawing bad. So the physical evidence, which was abundant and witnesses, that's what did her in."

She smiled really big. "She was supposed to be released two years ago."

Wait what?

"Was she?"

"'Probably. And she'll come for me. She can't help herself. She can't stand the possibility me being remotely content, let alone happy."

She grins, the murderous grin I'm familiar with, and nods. "Oh yeah. She'll come for me. And it will the last thing she does."