Chapter 8: A Little Messed Up
Chapter 8: A Little Messed Up
By the direction we went, it was quite clear we werent headed to my home. Opposite in fact. Romeo got on the highway and sped blasting past any speed limit as we flew out of New Valentine. The giant skyscrapers grew further and further away. I bit my lip, face burning from shame, and head still ringing from that woman's Soul clocking me.
So fucking dumb. Dragging myself from one mess into another.
Romeo pulled off the highway, taking the V-Series onto a bumpy side road as the smooth asphalt gave way to pure mud and gravel. Swamps surrounded us, trees hung over a narrow dirt path as we dug deeper into the wetlands. A gradual sense of dread filled me as Romeo refused to speak. He hadn't even turned the radio on to the classic Impero Italiano station he always listened to. Silence hung in the air, choking the words from my throat. He'd told that woman he'd take care of me.
Eventually, Romeo parked the car on the side of the dirt path in the middle of the swampland. He got out and fished himself a cigarette, zippo twirling into his hand and catching the end of his smoke. Out Luca, Come. He took a seat on the hood of the V-Series. I moved like a glacier, leaving the safety of the car and joining him into the night.
A puff of smoke drifted away from us. Youre a young growing man, Immortals know when your father and I were your age, we were just as big of fools. He shook his head, a faint smile haunted his face. Of all things, a motorcycle gang, passerotto? They have no respect, no? They are not family and would let you rot in a gutter. You cannot trust people like this.
I havent, I aint said I trusted a single one of them. Only one looking out for me is me. But if ya think Im with them because they tricked me, that aint it. Im not Alex, I cant do school, cant stand those dull jobs, Id bash my brains in. This way at least sometimes I make some chips to help Ma.
Ah. I see. Your mother. Romeo ashed the cigarette. Stubborn woman, always reluctant to accept a helping hand. Except, I suppose when she must, from you. But I suspect this isnt just about money, am I right?
I paused, chewing on that.
Was it about money? Even if Id won that absurd amount of chips, would I stop walking this path? No. The risk called to me. Its a part of it, but youre right. Not all of it.
Never is. Romeo sighed. You stepped very far out of line, you understand this?
Ya mean with the Segreto. Even just saying the name brought a bit of chill to my heart. Romeo gave a grim nod.
There is honor to these things. Duty binds and holds our family together. Little is stronger in this world than the bonds of blood.
Why do ya know so damn much about them? How did ya walk in there like that? I jumped to my feet, puffing up in front of him. I suspected. But I wanted a real fucking answer. Id had more than my fill of this bullshit about duty and honor.
Romeo gave an empty smile, tossing the rest of his cigarette. Apologies, passerotto. Your mother has a vicious streak, and I gave an oath long ago. I intend to keep it, as a man of my word. I see now you wont stay away from trouble. It is clear, yes. Yet trouble and danger go hand in hand. Such is life. Moreover, as a man of my word, Ive promised to honor our family. Romeo pushed his way up from the car, carefully stripping off the suit jacket and folding it, setting it on the hood. I flinchedthere was a gun strapped to him. Illegal as all hell. A real fucking gun.
He pulled back the sleeves of the fine white dress shirt, moving methodically. Before removing the gun holster, and adding it on top of the jacket. I tried to retreat from the car, making small and subtle moves, eyes scanning the nearby swamp. Romeo leaned down and plucked a knife from his boot. I froze. Should I run? Run from my uncle? No. I couldnt live with myself if I did. I dug my heels into the mud and looked at him with a straight face, trying not to betray the fact that part of me had wanted to run
He set the knife by the gun, which filled me with a guilty relief Two birds with one stone, efficient, no? Romeo cracked his knuckles with a frown. For the famigilia, I shall teach you a lesson. For my nephew, he must learn to fight. If he is to run loose on the street like a bull, then he must have strength like one.
Aint need to do that, cant we just head
Romeo darted in, hands flowing to a boxers stance. His fist whipped towards the already bruised part of my face. Connecting with a meaty thwack.
Ya crazy fuck! I reared back, Romeo remained bouncing between his feet. Smirking.
Hands up, passerotto. This is just the first of many, we keep going until you learn a thing or two. He was crazy. A crazy fucking bastard, I hesitated and stared at him with wide eyes like a deer in headlights. But my Uncle didnt wait, dashing in and kneeing me in the stomach. I hunched over, hardly a second to register the pain before he shoved me back to my feet.
I was barely able to gather myself before he unleashed a barrage of fists. I backpedaled as he drilled me on how to maintain a stance with a casual air as if he were talking about the weather. Then, when I inevitably failed to maintain defense, hed slap an insult down. One of which instituted I was little better than a toddler at play-fighting. My anger flared, but this was no competition. Romeo moved with no waste, each transition both practiced and precise. Worse, it became clear by his flippant attitude that from the start, he was just toying with me.
That pissed me off.
I screamed, slamming a hand on my chest, calling upon my Soul Seed. To my horror, a jolt of red lightning flashed. My face went white, and I tried to run as Fickle Fate screwed me. Romeo tilted his head, curious. Before smoothly pursuing, like a shark tasting blood in the water. His fist glided towards my stomach.
At the same moment, in my desperation to get out of range, I tripped over the mud. The would-be gutshot unintentionally changed course. Slamming right into my face.
The heavy hit to my head caused me to lose balance and collapse into the mud. Romeo grabbed me by the back of my shirtand then dragged me to his car as I tried to collect my sense. He let a moment pass as I tried to gauge whether or not that last hit gave me a concussion. Eventually, I was able to string together some thoughts.
Still cannot control your anima? He paused I screwed up my confused face. Ah, that is to say as youre more used toyour Soul Seed. Understand now, yes?
I blinked a single eye, my other was far too swollen to see anything else than his blurry outline.
Do not glare so. I am your uncle, speak. My tongue felt heavy, but I forced myself regardless.
Aint easy.
If cultivation were easy, we would all live as immortals, no? That is the way of this world, Luca. Do as you can, learn what you may. But if you want power, you must earn it. Step by step. Tell me, how often is it you ponder your anima? He pulled out a white cloth, cleaning blood from his knuckles. Couldnt say if it was my blood or his.
Whenever I bet. Thats what my Soul Seed is about.
Romeo shook his head and sighed. If that is all you believe there is to your anima, then it is unsurprising that you struggle so. A man must understand what is within him. Else its power is wasted, and will not grow. He fished out two cigarettes, offering me one.
I took the smoke with a shaky hand. Dont understand what ya mean.
There is more to your anima than gambling. Think. What is it yours revolves around?
Aint that complicated. Im telling ya, its about gambling. Im sure of it. Every time it stirred and reacted, it has been around betting. Theres gotta be stakes, a win, and a potential loss to really make me feel it.
Truly? You have it all figured out then. It took me until I passed the first stage to glimpse a facet of what my anima meant. But no, passerotto, youve figured it all out already. He gave a small laugh, and I tried not to feel too sour. Our anima is like a jewel, plenty of sides. As you grow in strength, more is revealed. Never simply what we first picture. It is when you become an Immortal that every angle is seen. That is what it means to attain immortality.
I considered it, not quite willing to buy all that bullshit from the guy whod just spent the better part of an hour kicking my shit in. As soon as the cigarettes hit the ground, Romeo pulled me into an even longer round of fighting.
This time the casual advice expanded to elaborate on the basics, such as foot positioning. He mentioned maintaining a center of gravity, letting your body flow, and when to shift stance. Romeo allowed actual pauses between his brutal beat down to correct my mistakes. By the end of this two-hour bout, I was slick with blood and sweat. Romeo finally claimed it was getting too late, that Ma would worry.
As if shed pay more attention to me being late, instead of being beat to shit.
One last thing, Romeo shook his head, pulling out a phone from his jacket on the car hood. Just like that he snapped a picture of me. Grazie. Immortals know why, before tucking the phone away and buttoning up his cuffs.
Romeo packed me into the car, then drove. This time turning on the radio and singing the low and drawn-out swaying notes of the usual late-night tunes of the Impero Italiano station. As if it were a normal night driving along with his nephew. I unrolled the window, letting the cold wind of the night air and the speeding car soothe my bloody and bruised face.
A confusing night, one that left me feeling humble. Id didnt think I was hot-shit in a fight, but I thought I did alright. But my Uncle showed me what a jackass I was. The smooth flowing motions of his fighting were smooth like water. He mopped the floor with me, and Id never stood a chance. Even the differences in our cultivation stages didnt matter. If we were on even footing, hed still kick my ass every time.
Romeo parked a block away from my house. We part ways here. Let us not spend another two years apart, no? I can see you are in a time of your life where you need guidance, that which your mortal mother is not equipped to provide. That is not to say, that I was rather embarrassed a nephew of mine fought so plainly. This is not a state I can leave you in. Such would be a disgrace to the name Cavicchi. He gave me serious eyes. I know better than to ask you to stay out of trouble. But be smarter, my passerotto.
Ya, alright, I mumbled while I climbed out of his car. Night.
Goodnight. May you fly higher tomorrow than the day before.
I stumbled towards the house. Felt like complete crap, my mind a mess. How many of my problems were just bad luck, or because I kept doing the same stupid shit? Could I keep this up? One twist of fate and a night like this easily ended with me never arriving back home again. With that chilling thought, I unlocked the door and crept to my room, at least Ma and Alex were already asleep. Thank fuck for that.
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