I do not know Italian, Spanish or whatever language you will find here but my characters are multilingual apparently. Do not make fun of my google translated conversations ok? Spare me.

32

Faye followed me, holding our small basket as I picked items off the shelves in the small store we'd found. It sold everything we needed to lay low until Vittore decided to show up again.

"Ti piace il rosso o il nero (Do you like red or black)?" I asked Faye in Italian because when we entered the shop, it was about to close and I pretended like Faye and I didn't know English. She played along, also speaking Italian.

"Rosso," she replied and I picked out the red dye.

"Come conosci l'italiano (How do you know Italian)?" I asked her as we continued shopping. The older woman rolled her eyes.

"Se sei costretto a entrare nel mondo delle mafie, impari una o due cose per non essere fuori dal giro. Ha aiutato molto nel corso degli anni (If you are forced to enter the world of mafias, you learn a thing or two so as not to be out of the loop. It has helped a lot over the years)."

"Triste (Sad)," I said as we finally made our way to the counter. Faye just shrugged because what else could she say. She was right.

We paid for the items and Faye didn't ask me where I'd gotten the money from and I was grateful. What isn't your business really is not your business. Once everything was paid for, we got out of the store, bags in hand as we waved down a taxi. One stopped in front of us and we slid in, the whole place smelt of weed and booze.

"Can you take us to the cheapest hotel around?" I asked the driver.

"Yeah but it's going to cost ya," he replied, chewing what I assumed what tobacco.

"Whatever," I said and that was all it took for him to start driving. Faye and I were silent as he meandered through the city's roads, singing a song he knew if it popped up on the radio. The urge to kill him was strong.

I leant back in my seat, taking a deep breath. I was so fucking exhausted. My bones screamed for me to just lay down and rest but I couldn't do that right now. I tried to stay calm to prevent my heart from going haywire and making me die of a bloody heart attack.

Like surviving four years in torture and puberty didn't mean anything at all. If I died, it was going to be glorious.

The taxi finally stopped at a crappy rundown building near the edge of the city. I threw the fat pog his money and Faye and I got out and went to the building. The inside wasn't that great either. Peeling walls and the scent of cigarettes hung in the air. I walked over to the lady at the reception who was filing her nails.

"What can I help you with?" she asked obnoxiously chewing at her gum. Her voice was more high pitched than Alexa's and her aura more annoying. Speaking of Alexa. What happened to her? Eh. I don't remotely care anyway.

"A room for two," I said and she continued doing what she was doing.

"How long are you staying?" she asked.

"We don't know but we could leave sometime tomorrow," Faye said speaking up. I looked back at her with a raised brow. She was confident Vittore would find us in a day? Wow.

"That will be two fifty," the lady said and I pulled out the exact amount and placed it in front of her. She finally gazed up at me, her eyes clearly judging me but I said nothing. She reached behind her at a board filled with keys and handed me one.

"Don't fuck in the shower," is all she said before pointing us to a random direction. I glanced down the hall and just motioned for Faye to follow me which she did.

We stuck close to each other, passing doors with yelling couples and people having their world rocked until we made it to our room. Opening the door, I ushered Faye inside before locking it and dragging one of the chairs to the door.

The place was pretty small. A dining with three seats, two beds, an old flat screened tv and a door that led to what I am assuming was the bathroom. I set the things on one bed, Faye doing the same. I picked out the red hair dye that I had bought.

"You first," I told Faye who sighed and dragged one of the remaining chairs to the bathroom with her. I got the comb, gloves and small container I'd bought out of the bags Faye had carried and took it with me to the bathroom.

Faye was sitting on the chair in front of the mirror and the bathroom was seriously small. I mixed up the dye in the container, put the gloves on and stood behind her, sectioning her hair as I applied the dye. If they were looking for us, the best thing we could do now was alter how we looked somewhat for the time being.

Faye and I were silent as I applied her die. The silence was comforting because I honestly didn't feel like talking much after what just happened. I'd killed before but not as many people at once and to be honest, I didn't feel anything at all. It was normal and it seemed like Faye was in the same boat.

"How old are you?" she suddenly asked as I was close to finishing half her head.

"18," I said and she looked at me quizzically through the mirror.

"18? Really?" she asked and I nodded.

"I'm turning 19 if that helps," I stated with a shrug and Faye just lightly shook her head as I combed through it with dye.

"You just... you don't act your age," she said and I sighed.

"I was forced to grow up," I told her looking at her dark eyes in the mirror. "And it doesn't matter anyway."

I could feel Faye's eyes on me even as I dropped my gaze from the mirror.

"You're like my son," she said with a sad chuckle. "I love him to death honestly and wish I'd done more you know. Protected him better."

"You did. He's alive is he not?" I asked her. "Trust me when I say you are a perfect mother. You care, you've been there and anyone, even the ass that is your son is lucky to have you."

Faye was amazing. I can't believe she didn't see that.

"He turned 23 by the way," Faye said with a small smile on his face. "He's so old yet I can't help but remember the times when I used to read him bedtime stories and play with this yellow ball he was obsessed with."

A tear slipped down the older woman's cheek and I stilled my movements for a second. "God I wish I'd given him a much better and safer life. He's not supposed to be in all of this..." she said, her voice cracking with each word as tears continued to flow down her cheeks.

I quickly finished up her dying and wrapped her head with one of the polythene bags. She silently cried as I did this and I knelt in front of her.

"Can I tell you something?" I asked softly, gazing into her eyes. Faye nodded and I shifted slightly, not sure how to get out what I wanted to say.

"I know this all must come as a shock. I mean, we were attacked in your home while doing something so normal and mundane. You said you were used to it, the violence, the life threatening situations but you're not supposed to be. It's ok to cry if that's how you can let out all that pent up emotion. Do it, scream to the stars if you must," I reached forward and held her hand in mine. "This life wasn't supposed to be yours and it is perfectly fine to fucking hate the world for shit it put you through. If the universe was a person I'd stab it myself but it's not so..."

"So?"

I shrugged. "There's nothing I can do but accept, heal and move on in the ways I think work for me. You are bloody amazing Faye. Don't lose sight of that."

The older woman wiped her tears away and gave me a smile. I could see how she was trying to accept everything that had happened in her life and I hate the people who broke her, number one being Matteo. That fucking sod deserves to burn for eternity.

"I am amazing aren't I?" she asked and I nodded seriously.

"The best."

Faye sighed. "I can't keep this up. Come on. Let's do your hair next before I begin to bawl my freaking eyes out again."

I replaced Faye in the seat and she mixed dye in front of me. She looked funny with her hair tied in the polythene bag and snorted at her reflection at a time but I was glad to see she seemed better. I hoped my words had penetrated her heart and soothed her soul. She was a ray of bloody sunshine and I'd be damned if she hid herself behind a bunch of clouds.

Faye stood behind me, a pair of scissors in her hand as she glanced at my waist length hair.

"Are you sure you want to cut it?" she asked. "I mean, your hair is fantastic."

I knew that. I'd grown out my hair for as long as I can remember but it was starting to become a burden. Plus, I'm sure the identification they had on me was centered around the hair.

"I'm sure. Cut it," I said.

Holding my breath, the first snip echoed though the bathroom.