Page 117 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

I find my duffle strewn across my old room, picking out a plain t-shirt and rough pants. No underwear, though, fuck it.

I don’t bother with re-packing. I don’t want any of this shit anyways.

Constantine and Niko are waiting for me, with Delta already leashed. I nod, grab my wallet and the pair of $6 aviators I bought at the gas station, and motion for us to leave.

I can practically hear Niko’s gasp of relief.

I can practically feel him holding in whatever he really wants to say, and probably only for Connie’s benefit.

Once we’re in the black SUV and heading towards the airport, Connie turns to me, a grave look on his face.

“This is enough, Alexander.” He holds my eye contact, and I can feel the firmness of his words. How absolute they are. I don’t miss the slight tremble in the back of his voice. The worry. But I also hear the strength.

Enough is enough.

I nod, unable to say anything back because I understand. Georgia would have been disappointed. Connie already is.

The flight home takes us just under two hours. I vomit twice, cry once, and don’t speak a single word to anyone. Aside from Delta, who sat beside me the whole time, his head in my lap.The perks of flying private.

“Are you driving me home?” I ask Niko when we get into his SUV, me and the dog taking the back seat. He doesn’t answer me, looking at his dad instead.

“First, you’re gonna get some food. Probably something greasy as hell. Then, you’re coming home with me. When you’re ready, you can go home,” Connie says while looking straight ahead in the passenger seat.Great. I’m grounded.

I let my head fall back against the hot leather headrest and watch as we pull away from the airport.

Feels just as shitty this time as it did the last time. With Emma.

Niko takes us through Foster’s Freeze, and everyone gets something, even Delta. And then we drive the short distance to the Scala Family Home.

It’s practically a prison between the tall iron fence and the guarded shack at the gate. When we pull up, Connie passes the guard a bag from Foster’s. Through the window, he says, “Carl, you remember my son, Alexander, right?”

He nods, “Yes, sir.”

“Good, he lives here now.” I wave from the backseat without looking. Someday I’ll be polite and say hi, but it sure as fuck isn’t going to be today.

“Understood, sir,” Carl tips the top of his baseball cap that’s embroidered with “Security,” and Niko pulls away, up the circular drive, to park in front of the fountain.

The house reeks of old money and a life I hadn’t known till recently. It’s a large stone mansion in the old part of town, on a street that once hosted the Roosevelts as house guests. It’s a 1920s California palace with a gothic flair. Probably Connie’s ex-wife’s doing.

I shudder just thinking about Julie.

We file into the, thankfully, well-air-conditioned house and Delta bolts the second his paws hit the saltillo tile floor in the entry. Off to find Milton. Just happy as fuck to be back somewhere familiar, I’m sure.

Constantine takes the bags of food to his kitchen and then sets them on the island. Instructing me to sit.

He makes me a massive glass of water, then hovers over me with his arms crossed.

“There are rules while you live here.” I want to roll my eyes because I can hear Niko laugh under his breath.

“No girls. No drugs. And you go to therapy twice a week. I get to choose the therapist.”

“You know I’ve been a fully functioning adult for a long time, Con-”

He scoffs, interrupting me, “Could have fooled me, Alex. Hell, you could have fooled anyone.” Turning his head, he says, “Niko, take a walk.”

Niko grabs his bag and leaves.

“Listen closely,” Connie’s voice is low and rough. “When I saw you today, I nearly had a coronary episode. You looked just likehim.” He whispers the last part, and chills run along my extremities. “That is not who you are, son.” Tears fill his eyes as he fights to keep them out of his voice.