The Code To A Don's Heart

s i x

I reached Las Pavita at nightfall. The roads were busier than any I'd been on and the city was so full of light and life. I watched the place slightly mesmerized. I'd always avoided moving so far away from home but this place... it was wonderful. Neon signs were advertising and calling people to places like bars, night clubs and fancy salons. Large crowds walked on the streets, giggling girls, rowdy boys, panicked business men. They all somehow co-existed in this flimsy city that looked like an upgraded version of Las Vegas and Los Angels.

Just like the other two famous cities, this one had double the crime and danger. It was home for the Martinelli Familia after all. I did not wish to encounter that particular mafia. My spine shivered just thinking of them. There was too much shady business that surrounded them like dense smoke. All in all, I had to get out of this town but first, I needed to clean up.

I parked at a gas station and got out with my bag. The gun in Viktor's coat felt heavier as I walked to the restrooms. The place wasn't as disgusting as I thought it would be. It did smell like urine and the white tiles had a slight brown tint to them but I would take what I got.

Beggars weren't choosers. It was a saying for a reason.

I got cleaned up and changed into a pair jeans and a black vintage Space Jam tee. The shirt was my brother's. It was among the things he left behind the night he left. The urge to call him was strong but I ignored it. I kept the dagger as secure as I could in my combat boot and put Viktor's coat back around me. I arranged it, trying my best to ignore the intriguing male scent that waffled into my nose. I secured the gun at my lower back in the waistband of my jeans and run a hand over my hair, happy it was still a bit neat.

I went back out to the parking lot, looking for my truck but it was gone. My heart hammered as I looked around and the vehicle was nowhere to be seen. I cursed under my breath, words my brother would be proud of. I was only glad I didn't leave anything valuable in the car. I sighed and begun my walk.

On the streets of Las Pavita, I was able to see the city better. The shops all had bright and energetic youth pulling people in with promises of discounts and authentic items. I kept a good hold to my back as I weaved through the people, knowing it was easy for someone to pick pocket me. My best course of action now was public transport. I still had enough of Viktor's money left to buy myself a ticket at a bus station and maybe a hotdog from one of the stands I kept passing painfully.

I used Google maps on my phone to find the closest station. It was a peaceful walk and it was nice to stretch out my legs. I had a headache at the front of my mind that wasn't fading because I was just so exhausted and my stomach grumbled something fierce. When I managed to reach the bus station, it was late but outside, the city thrived. The station was empty but there was a bus going to Brookehills and to my luck, it was leaving in an hour.

Ticket in hand, I first went back to a hotdog stand a few minutes away to get myself fed. Now, I was surviving on ten bucks, a fully loaded gun and three daggers. Wonderful.

The bus came on time and to my surprise, it was full. We left the station after half an hour and by that time, the hotdog I'd eaten had already digested and I felt hungry again. I put my backpack in my lap and hugged it like a pillow while looking out the window. The person next to me was a light-skinned teen who seemed to not want anything to do with me, headphones over her ears and a phone in hand. I was happy she ignored me. I adjusted myself in the seat and closed my eyes. I would get at least four hours of sleep from this trip. I needed as much as I could get.

In my dreams, I saw my mother and my brother. They were in our old living room, practicing guitar. Peirce wanted to be a star then. He wanted to make music that would move people. My mom was helping him, teaching him as much music as she could remember and encouraging him to research more at school. Teachers for this kind of thing were too expensive for us to afford at the time so my mom did her best. It was enough.