Bellissimo Lotta (Beautiful Struggle): Companion Novel to Bellissimo Fortuna (The Family Trilogy Book 2) (16 page)

Decedent was known cocaine user, and had substance in her system according to autopsy report (see Addendum 3). No evidence linking her to the sale or distribution of narcotics.

After learning of known associate and distributor of decedent, the case was sent to Federal Division of DEA. Known distributor was identified as Mr. Frank Locati of the Agosto Crime Family managed out of Indian Harbor, Florida. Mr. Locati is believed to be the second in command. Information was obtained that the decedent was criminal informant working with Agent Floris and her information may have been breeched to the Agosto Family.

Her death was ruled a homicide ordered by Agosto family. Possible suspect is Mr. Frank Locati but no further information was obtained.

Family notified. Derrick Hyatt and Margaret Hyatt, decedent’s parents. Dakota Hyatt, minor, son of decedent was in care of Derrick and Margaret Hyatt, maternal grandparents, where he would remain.

INVESTIGATION CLOSED.

Son of decedent.

The woman I looked up to, the one who was my closest ally, allowed me to call her sister. Showed me attributes I wanted to copy, and ones I wanted to steer clear of. She was the woman who gave birth to me.

She was my mom.

It’s a kick to the gut. One I don’t know how to process. She acted like she cared, but now I realize she didn’t care. Not enough to be my mom.

Care of grandparents.

It explains so much. The distance, the allowing most of my care and activities to be handled by Dana. They loved me, or seemed like they did, but they were just absent. They are liars, as well. The anger is creeping up, igniting a fire in my stomach, and mixed with the grief of mourning a sister I adored and mother I never knew, is too much to handle.

Criminal informant.

Agosto family.

All these phrases running through my mind. I read the file over. Again. Twice more. Nothing makes sense.

Then it does.

My sister was my mother. She lied. My parents were my grandparents. They lied. My entire fucking life . . . a lie.

Agosto crime family. They destroyed my life. All of them. Each of these transgressions individually I may be able to hand. Combined it’s just too much.

A girl who claimed my heart and played games with my mind. She has the same name as the monsters responsible for the murder of my sister. Everything until this moment has been a lie. Did she know? Did Bronson know? Their father, the man I respected enough to put his daughter first, not make her choose, is the man who ordered Dana’s murder. Directly or not, his hands aren’t clean.

I didn’t heed the warnings my family gave me to steer clear of that family. Seems like my
mom
didn’t either.

I reach for the first bottle I can find. Foregoing a glass, I tip the bottle to my lips. Scotch. I remember the gurney carrying her lifeless body that morning, covered with a blue tarp. My sister. My mother. My champion. None of this made sense.

Bianca. I have to get to her. I want this confrontation. Anything to beat down the turmoil I’m feeling. I need her to hurt, to feel the pain her family caused me. This is what I had overlooked all these years, what I pushed her to work through with her father. I had the desire to punish her, injure her in the way I was being slayed open, yet I knew her hands, her voice, her love had the power to repair me, and that enraged me.

I stumble from the cab. Her door isn’t locked, and it pushes open with ease. I immediately notice the roses I gave her this morning. The same time I was foolish enough to vow my undying love. She placed a photo of us taken last year next to the vase and I want to throw them both against the wall. Her smile lights up her whole face. It sure brought sunshine to my world.

“Dakota,” my voice being called out stuns me. I was lost in my own memories. I glance to the other side of her dorm room and see her roommate, Anna. Her body covered by a towel, her ass hanging out. I stare at the picture again, and shove my hands in my pockets to stop myself from making a colossal mistake. I feel the report, and I don’t stop myself again. Just like this one piece of paper destroyed my world, I’m going to further the cause, but this time I’m taking others down with me. I won’t be the only victim in their world. I will obliterate everything in my wake . . . most of all abolishing my future with Bianca. Memories, futures, promised words . . . all gone.

I don’t pause long enough to think it through. Nothing mattered in that moment but ruin. I needed the world to turn off and my head and heart to work against each other. The love, the memories, the hurt . . . I need to shut them off.

I made sure to smother the last ray of hope in our future when she walked in. As I was pounding into her roommate, she screamed. I set out to do what I craved at this moment.

Destruction.

In the moment it seemed like the correct answer, in the end it was the worst. Less than an hour ago I swore to her I would prove to her we could work. I lied.

To her.

To myself.

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.

~
Khalil Gibran

Chapter 15

Bianca

I sit in class and can’t concentrate. I replay his words over and over.

He wants this.

He loves me.

I want to trust this.

I feel in my bones this is our time.

I’d give anything to get advice from Callie. It hits me; I know what she’d tell me. Right now the right pieces, with the right people were connecting, and to grab it and don’t let go. I’ve felt the misery, the loss. He’s here offering to erase that. I grab my books, not caring about the spectacle I’m making leaving class as the professor is still speaking. I flee the lecture hall and beeline to my dorm. I’m packing a bag for the weekend and heading to claim my man. My love.

As soon as I open the door, I hear Anna’s moans. Fuck, she’s at it again. I don’t give a fuck, she should’ve locked her door, and I need to get my stuff. I try to avert my eyes from her side of the room, but that grunt catches my attention. The familiarity of it shoots a dagger in my heart. I look. I can’t unsee this . . . ever.

Dakota, the man who just promised me a future is fucking Anna. The ache starts in my chest, spreading through my heart, down to my stomach, and finally threatening to make me collapse from the weight of it. I scream, his head shoots in my direction. His eyes glassy, his face void of emotion. The look is foreign to me. He continues thrusting into her, and I escape. I can’t process a thought except to recoil. The vile image seared into my brain; playing like a movie in front of me. I can’t escape it.

I was ready to put our lives back on track, ride the rollercoaster to the end with all its highs and lows. Instead, we’ve derailed before the ride started.

I go to the apartment, knowing he is staying there. I don’t know why, but I have no place else to go. I haven’t cried, and I refuse to at this moment. I step over the empty scotch bottle, and that explains where his glassy eyes came from. I see his papers scattered all over the table and trudge past everything, seeking solace in my bedroom. I curl up on my bed, bring my knees to my chest, and squeeze, hoping the pressure will relieve the ache. I close my eyes and wish my dad were here. Or Callie. Either of them would know what to say. I stare at the wall, the collage of pictures that include moments of the past four years. Dakota smiling at me. Callie laughing at me. Bronson. Bronson holding Callie and the one common denominator . . . the love we all had for each other. Callie is gone, Bronson is lost, Dakota . . . he’s someone I never knew. At least the version of him I was introduced to today. These mementos are all lies, each one held close to my heart. But lies nonetheless.

Seconds turn to minutes. Time drags, preparing me for the scene that will ensue when he returns. I hear the door shut and my name being called as he walks down the hall to my room.

I see the lines surrounding his mouth as he stares from the doorway. His eyes won’t meet mine, his frown a deep scowl, and his shoulders slumped like he just lost his best friend. No. He doesn’t get to feel the piercing ache through the heart. That is reserved for me. He set this in motion. “Bianca,” his voice is raspy, and he swallows as he speaks my name with a forlorn look in his eyes.

“Enjoy yourself?” My voice holds no emotion.

“Don’t,” he implores me.

“Don’t what? Ask you how my roommate was? Ask why? What exactly don’t you want me to do here?” I’m losing it. I can’t confront this without sentiment.

“Let me explain,” he starts.

“Explain how your dick fell into Anna? How when I walked in to see you fucking her you looked at me cold as ice and continued. Or are you going to explain how an hour before you were begging me to love you?” With each syllable my voice is rising until I’m screaming. My throat is raw from the emotion that’s choking me.

“All of it. Bianca, I’ll give you all of it.”

“You can’t give me anything. You
took
everything from me.” That’s the crux of it. What he robbed me of he can’t return.

Trust.

Dignity.

It disappeared in the matter of seconds. It took years to build and moments to shatter.

He pulls something from his pocket and walks to me. “Read it.” I unfold the crumbled envelope and scan the words. Several words jump at me, so I start over. I didn’t know I was capable of breaking more.

I was wrong.

Each sentence. Each fact. Each lie he has lived with. They dig into my heart, tearing it open, polluting my mind. I know how these words crushed him, but he in turn destroyed me. Left me in pieces, in ruin with no chance of putting myself back together. He did this knowing I had nobody to help pick up the fragments he left in his wake. Bronson is reeling in his own pain, and I won’t take his best friend from him. He can’t lose another person he loves. My mom, she’s still healing, and I can’t lay this burden at her feet.

He did what he did without regard for me.

I meet his eyes and give him back the paper. “Get out.” I stress to him I’m not employing this pity train he wants me to take with him. I see his world was rocked today, in turn, he lashed out, and I was the sacrifice. I’m not willing to be that. Not even for him.

“Baby, talk to me.”

“Get out. Go home and figure out your shit, but do it without me. I won’t breathe a word of this to Bronson. Not for you, but for him. You can’t change what you set in motion. You did it for some sick act of revenge. My dad’s name wasn’t lost on me in that.” I nod towards the letter in his hand. “I’m not my father. You’re not Dana. Your sister. Your mother. Everyone lies, everyone makes choices, Dakota, and you’re no different. Only yours, they hurt the innocent person in this. I didn’t need to take that punishment, that wasn’t because of me. It is on people who can’t defend themselves any longer because they aren’t here with us. You get your facts from what’s printed in front of you, but the problem is, there was nobody to fill in the holes. Instead, you decided to fill them in to ease your conscience, soothe your soul. At the price of mine. You took that from me. You succeeded. Now, you’ll never get those back. Get. Out.” I don’t waver. I won’t back down.

“I’ll go, for now. This isn’t over, Bianca.”

“This is so over, Dakota. It’s so over there isn’t a word to describe this finale.” I turn my head, so I don’t have to look at him. I will him to leave. I’m teetering on the edge of a break down and he doesn’t get that from me either. He may know I’m going to shed a tear but he won’t see it.

Once I hear the door shut and lock turn, I let it go. I feel the sobs from the pit of my stomach, and when I’m finally drained, my entire body aches. I know what he felt when he read those words. I knew when I saw my last name where his mind went. He blamed me in a moment of weakness. He wanted to pay me back for everything he was feeling. He blamed the wrong person. I set none of that into action, just like he didn’t. My dad, his sister or mother or whoever the fuck she was, Frank Locati, all of them played that hand. We just got stuck with the shitty cards they left.

I wake with my dad’s words, ‘don’t regret’ echoing in my mind. I won’t regret falling in love with Dakota, I’ll learn from it.

I won’t regret everything I gave to him, but I’m reclaiming it all for myself.

I won’t regret love, I just won’t believe in it for myself. I feel I’ve made these promises to myself before . . . over him.