Page 93 of Mafia Scars

God, what evil.

What evil.

I knew we were up against a complete psycho, but hearing all that happened really brought it home to me and opened my eyes.

I could see now why Luc behaved the way he did. Why he feared for me, why he said what he said.

That he had to kill Victor when he next saw him. That he would cut off his head.

Wow. Déjà vu was certainly doing a number on me.

He sounded like someone else I knew. Like my father. But this was worse.

This was the man I… this was the man I loved.

I loved him, and I didn’t want there to be any form of darkness in him.

That darkness, however, didn’t come from being a mobster or living a life of crime.

It didn’t come from wanting to change, or not wanting to change.

I knew it came from a place of fear. A place of primal instinct that would make anyone protect their loved ones.

It was normal. It was human. I couldn’t blame him for that.

I couldn’t blame him for feeling that way, especially when I would do the same.

We’d sat on the bedroom floor on the soft plush carpet for hours, wrapped in the sheet from the bed.

I’d listened to him talk, telling me the story. I’d expressed how sorry I was that it all happened, and then we kind of drifted into a dead silence.

Luc looked worried beyond measure.

“You know, it’s not the same thing.” I broke the silence.

He’d been resting his head on the edge of the bedframe and lifted it to regard me.

“What’s not the same, doll?”

“Changing. Changing is different to doing what you have to.”

“I should want to call the cops though, right?” He smirked. “You did.”

“That was different. I am a cop, and I didn’t know the extent of what you’d been through with Victor. A person like that can’t be reasoned with.”

He straightened and reached for my chin. “Doll, tell me this. If he walks into the room right now, would you think it reasonable for me to pull my gun out and shoot him? Just like that, no questions, no actions, or even if he was asking for forgiveness.”

I looked at him long and hard, wondering what to say. I didn’t think I could do it. It was killing out of context.

“I…”

“You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t, but I would do it because I know what he’s capable of, Amelia. I couldn’t save those kids. They were like my own. Their parents were killed, building blown up, Victor supposedly dead, and I still lost them. The bastard had no intention of allowing anyone to live that night, but yet he gave a mother hope that she could save her children with his sick game.”

I nodded, understanding. “Luc, I’m not going to understand the way you feel because it didn’t happen to me. I wasn’t there. I couldn’t kill him on sight, but I would understand if you did. There would be no question of why if you did it.”

“I should go after him. I can’t risk him getting you. I can’t feel that way again. Doomed and helpless. That is not me, and I live the way I do so that I don’t have to be this useless person.”

“I get it.”