Page 84 of Deliverance

"How did Giovanni even find out he was selling the drugs for more money?"

Uncle Marco shrugged. "I don't know."

"How'd he know it was him and not you?" I went on.

"I don't know that either."

"So, you just followed through with an order, no questions asked?"

"Of course I did, Ric. Yous know these people."

"Why not tell your sister's husband that you had an order and let them leave town?"

He looked at my mother as she poured cups of coffee, and then he turned back to me. "I didn't think about that. I was young and scared, and I did what I thought I had to do to survive."

"Do you regret it?"

"Every day. Why do yous think I made sure your mother was taken care of, and yous didn't end up on the street?"

I snorted. "You fucking got me a job with the devil. Do you think that's being a good man?"

"I didn't know he would have yous working at the whorehouse. Yous were supposed to work the door at the club, and that's it." He took a sip of the coffee.

"Yeah, well, maybe I would have only done that if I hadn’t saved that asshole from taking a bullet that night." But then I would have never gotten to know Erin. I would have never seen her again, never known she had been kidnapped, and never fallen in love with her.

Uncle Marco's cell phone started to ring. He pulled it out. "I gotta take this." He stepped outside into the cold January evening.

Momma stood, went to the kitchen window, and clipped a flower from her bright pink plant. She started to chop the flower with a knife.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to put this in his coffee."

"What is it?"

"Desert rose."

"What will it do?" I assumed I knew the answer but had to ask anyway.

She put the chopped pieces in the coffee and stirred it, then took the pieces out. "Hopefully, the sap got into his coffee so it will kill him."

"Momma," I breathed. I didn't know what to do. Uncle Marco had killed my father—Momma's husband—and probably many more that I didn't know about. I had just witnessed two murders in the last twenty-something hours, and I had been a witness to a few more prior to that. Not to mention the ones I’d witnessed when I was a SEAL and the ones I'd done as a SEAL.

"It's fine." She threw the pieces into the trash.

"You're talking crazy."

"The hurt I've endured will finally be relieved, Ric."

"Will it?" I questioned.

"Yes."

I stood and wrapped her in my arms. "No, it won't. You'll have to live with it for the rest of your life, knowing that you've killed a person—not to mention maybe go to prison."

"I don't care anymore, Ric," she cried.

"You're not a killer, just like you didn't raise me to be one."