Page 87 of Endure the Pain

He filled my glass with the red liquid. “I would have pegged you for a whiskey drinker.”

“Actually, I prefer tequila, but the wine will do,” I said and took a sip.

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” he asked.

I gave him a sly smile. “Dario Moretti. Age thirty-three. You have a younger brother named Mario, who is sitting next to you. Both of your parents have passed. You have a passion for old school cars, and you drive one with suicide doors. Your sex life is decent. You definitely have a thing for blondes and big breasts, but you avoid relationships, which is understandable. Would you like to know your credit score?”

Nicoli chuckled and Ivano snorted. Dario glanced at them with a frown.

I looked to Mario, sitting next to him. “Would you like to know what I’ve learned about you, young Moretti?”

He glared at me. “You spied on us?”

I shrugged and took another sip of my wine.

“Why don’t you seem surprised by this?” Dario asked Nicoli.

“I told you about the dinner I had with the Quinns and how Maura knew personal things about Ivano. She’s probably researched everyone at this table,” Nicoli said.

Dario’s attention returned to me in a studying manner. “Seems a little unfair that you know everything about me, yet I know very little about you.”

“I suppose you’re right. Hmm…” I tapped my chin. “I’m twenty-four. My birthday is coming up soon, so mark your calendars. My favorite food would have to be tacos. I have a bachelor’s in behavioral psychology. My sex life sucks at the moment, but I only have myself to blame for that. I have enough daddy issues to make a shrink’s head implode. I’m a control freak, I’m stubborn, and I have a really bad Irish temper.” I glanced around the very quiet table. “Would anyone like to know anything else?”

“And you would just tell us?” Mario deadpanned.

“I’m pretty sure she would,” Nicoli told him. “Maura has a thing for honesty.”

I smiled at the young Moretti before taking a huge gulp of my wine.

“Why is it understandable?” Dario asked me.

It took a second for me to realize what he was asking. When it clicked, I set down my wine, reached over, and ran my fingers over his rosary beads. “Would you like to play a game, Dario?”

He frowned.

“I’ll tell you why you avoid relationships if you let me guess why you like to kill using these beads,” I said.

He nodded.

I noticed the cross was missing from the beads. “Well, I’m tempted to say you use them as afuck youto the Almighty.”

“Do you not pray to God?” he asked.

I huffed. “I’m going to hell so what’s the point? I've done too many bad things to be redeemed and I’m not going to stop doing bad things even if it would redeem me. I’ve accepted who I am and what my fate might be. By the lack of a cross at the end of your beads, I’d say you’ve come to terms with your fate as well.”

He smiled a little, but everything else about him was unreadable. I tilted my head as I studied the beads. They were beautiful and a little on the feminine side. “You know, strangling someone is an interesting choice. It takes time, but the moment they stop fighting, time slows and for a few heartbeats you feel the life leaving their body. It’s quite a high.”

“You sound like you speak from experience,” Dario asked.

I answered with a small smile. “These were your mother’s, weren’t they?”

Dario’s eyes hardened, giving me my answer.

From what Vincent could dig up for me, I knew Dario’s mother had been strangled by his father and then his father had hung himself. The coroner had found strange indentations on his neck that hadn't matched the rope that he had supposedly used to hang himself with, but nothing had really been done with that information. Dario had been seventeen at the time.

“Your father was your first,” I whispered.

Dario didn’t answer, but the reaction in his eyes spoke volumes. His gears were turning quickly, obviously realizing that I had figured it out.