I never thought I’d leave Las Vegas, not for long, not without a definite return date. Yet today, I’d purchased a one-way ticket to Naples.
I hadn’t talked to anyone about it, not even Greta or Aurora. There was enough commotion in my brain as it was. Nobody could take this decision from me because nobody knew how messed up my thoughts were right now. I needed time to get a grip—to grow up how Dad would call it. Maybe that too. But who’d ever heard of a serial killer growing out of his murderous urges.
The problem wasn’t even the latter—being a good killer and loving it was the best condition to be a Made Man. The whole male side of my family were murderers. Some liked it more than others, but we were all good at it. Problem was that it had become an addiction. After a kill, I was already thirsting for the next kill. I lived for my nightly hunts and needed to get a grip.
I wanted to. I wanted to manage my dark side like Dad and Nino did, something I’d never admit to them. I admired them for how they handled a family life and the darkness that they harbored.
Sometimes I wanted to hurt everyone, but there were certain people I always wanted to save a little more than I wanted to hurt them. Save them from me. The problem was, every day I was a little less sure who held the reins, me or the monster.
When I left the Falcone mansion in the morning, I wasn’t sure when I’d return or if I’d return. I could die helping the Camorra in Italy. I could decide my darkness simply wasn’t controllable.
The hardest part was not saying goodbye, especially to Aurora. She wouldn’t forgive me for this, and she had every right to hate me. But she’d be able to hand Battista over to my parents, and they would take better care of my son than I ever could.
My first stop after landing in Naples wasn’t the local Camorra headquarters or my great-uncle’s villa outside the city.
I went to the best tattoo studio in Naples. When my plan to leave had formed in my head, I’d known I wanted to take Battista and Aurora with me in any way I could, so I decided to ink them into my skin. Aurora because of the feelings I had for her, and Battista because of the feelings I should have for him.
I didn’t have an appointment but managed to get in anyway. I showed the tattoo artist an image of an aurora borealis. Aurora’s name couldn’t have been more fitting to how I saw her. A bright light against the dark sky. Her light even managed to brighten the blackness inside me. Maybe one day I would reach my personal equinox, and maybe one day my dark and light would be even. The aurora borealis always shines brightest on the night of an equinox. As long as my darkness overweighed the good inside me, Aurora’s light would always burn a little less in my presence. I didn’t want that.
The tattoo artist created a few quick drawings of aurora borealis tattoos. I didn’t want a backdrop of a forest or mountains. I wanted the sole focus to be on the northern lights and the night sky behind them. I picked a black night sky as the background and bright green and turquoise lights. I didn’t have many tattoos, not as many as Alessio and Massimo, only two so far: the Camorra tattoo of the eye and the knife, then a Joker tattoo on my back with his smile and Why so serious? in blood red beneath it followed by a string of HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. The A’s didn’t fully close at the top because every vertical stroke stood for one life taken, like a tally list. There were many haha’s by now, becoming smaller and smaller as they meandered down my back. I had a feeling I’d eventually have to give up taking tally. Both tattoos were held in black and red. Both colors I appreciated for their deeper meaning to me. Now the first dash of color would be added to the list.
“Where do you want the tattoo?” the tattoo artist asked after I’d picked the design. I motioned to the center of my chest, then slightly to the left. “I want the lights over my heart,” I said.
The tattoo artist nodded but didn’t comment. Good for him. I pulled my tee over my head.
“Great artwork,” he said when I turned my back to him. Nino had done a fabulous job of the Joker tattoo and the bloody tally list. I showed the guy the Camorra tattoo on my wrist was equally as good.
“My uncle did them.”
“Impressive. Why didn’t you choose him for these tattoos?”
“I didn’t want to. Are you worried your art won’t be as good as his?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Because I’m putting my trust in you, and these tattoos are very important to me.”
He swallowed. “It’s going to be my best work.”
I stretched out on the chair and held out my forearm to him. “Let’s start with the letter.” The tattoo for Battista would be simple. A red B over my wrist because he was my blood. I’d wanted to pick a tattoo with a deeper meaning like I’d done for Aurora, but I simply didn’t know him well enough. I hoped if I’d ever get the chance to do so I could add more detail to the tattoo. For now, I’d carry his initial with me as a constant reminder that Aurora wasn’t the only one who needed me to face my demons and shackle them. After less than an hour, the red B decorated my skin. The moment the tattooist touched the needle to my chest, I closed my eyes, allowed the burn to invade my body. It felt as if it almost touched my heart, as if the ink buried itself deeply enough to reach that part of me, just as Aurora had done.
After three hours, the hum of the needle died down for the last time. I opened my eyes and stared at the tattooist.
His forehead was sweaty, probably not just because he’d worked three hours straight.
He grabbed the mirror from his workstation and held it out to me so I could see his work. The black of the night sky over my heart made it look like there was only a black hole in my rib cage, which was fitting, but it was illuminated by meandering light strokes in green and turquoise.
I gave a terse nod. It was how I’d imagined it. I swung my legs off the chair and got up.
“You did good,” I said. I wanted to leave, felt the need to be alone with the strange sensations this manifestation of Aurora on my body created.
I grabbed my shirt and put it on, then on my way out, I tossed a wad of cash onto the reception desk, way too much for his work, and then again, not. I didn’t wait for him to count it.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt restless, hunted. I had expected a reaction to the tattoo, which was one of the reasons I hadn’t picked Nino for the tattoo. He would have seen something in my eyes or face, something I didn’t want to share with the people who knew me. I could only imagine what Alessio and Massimo would say if they saw the tattoo. Know-it-all Massimo would put two and two together. He definitely knew what the tattoo showed. Aurora borealis.
Aurora.
The fucking light in my life.
