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Chapter Six Part One Raya St Claire
We were on our way to the shipyard now.
I had the piece of paper clutched in my hand that contained the information I needed for today’s mission, but even though I had everything written down, I still felt a fraction of uneasiness.
I always felt uneasy when doing a mission because there’s always a possibility that things won’t run smoothly, but today the uneasiness was hard to dismiss that easily like before.
Usually Bear would make me feel better by singing a song or reciting poems badly, but there was this kind of weird tension in the air that no one could really ignore, and I think it had everything to do with the newcomer and that we had to place our full trust in him for tonight’s mission, but that was going to be hard seeing that it was his first official mission with the NC.
“What’s Rossi’s story?” The newcomer asks. “Why does he always sleep?”
“So you noticed that, huh?” Bear chuckles.
The newcomer nods. “He was sleeping when we left the mansion.”
“Rossi was thirteen when his father wanted to hang him.” Storm says, looking at the newcomer in the rear-view mirror.
“What?” The recruit asks. “His own father tried to hang him?”
I don’t think the newcomer expected something so unexpected to leave Storm’s mouth. He probably thought that Rossi had a medical condition that caused him to sleep most of the day away, not that Rossi’s father tried to hang him when he was thirteen years old. Hell, it shocked me too the first time when Rossi told us his story and why he always sleeps so damn much.
I don’t think I ate for two days after Rossi told us what happened to him.
“Yeah.” Bear says. “His father broke something big inside of him, and the only way he can really get rid of those demons is if he sleeps. It calms his mind and makes him forget about it. When he doesn’t sleep…when he isn’t able to get rid of those demons, he can become a real mean motherfucker. So we let him sleep, and only let him become a mean motherfucker when we need him to become like that. It comes in handy some days, but it takes a damn while to get him out of his bloodlust and the need to kill people.”
“Is his father still alive?”
“No,” Storm says, running a hand through his blond hair, “he hung him.”
“He didn’t actually physically hang his own father,” I tell the recruit, “they had an argument; Rossi brought out the rope and told his father to hang himself like he tried to hang him when he was just thirteen years old, not knowing that his father would actually go through with it. Rossi didn’t think that he would, but when Rossi returned home that night, there he was…”
