CHAPTER FOUR
As soon as he heard the news, Dom ran out of that house party with a small group of his friends running with him. When Dom saw Paulie Bernardi on the ground, and Jimmy trying to staunch the blood that was oozing from his stomach, his heart sank. They said Jimmy did it. When people ran in the house to get him, they said Jimmy shot Paulie. But he knew that had to be a lie. Jimmy ? That had to be fake bullshit.
But when he ran over to his brother and saw that look on his handsome face when he looked up at him, he knew it was true. And he also knew who Paulie was. Specifically who Paulie’s old man was. Jimmy was in deep shit. Jimmy was in trouble. And it wasn’t police kind of trouble either.
When the two capos that were with Paulie that night ran out of the house and saw what had happened to the second-in-command of the Bernardi crime family, they weren’t waiting on any ambulance. They grabbed their leader and ran with him to their SUV. One of them looked at Jimmy, and Dom could tell they wanted to kill him on the spot, but Dom stood up from his crotched position and showed his own hardware. They knew who Dom was. They knew who Dom’s father was and uncles were. They put Paulie inside their SUV, got in themselves, and took off.
“He came at me, Dommi,” Jimmy was trying to explain. “He came at me.”
“We gotta go,” Dom said as he grabbed his brother’s arm. Suddenly he was his big brother’s protector. He was still looking around in case some of Paulie’s men were still around looking to take a potshot. “We gotta get out of here.”
“Get out? We need to wait on the police, Dommi.”
Dom knew his brother had been corporate so long that he was way out of touch, but he never dreamed he’d be this far out. “You just shot the second-in-command of the Bernardi crime family, Jimmy. The second in command! What you think’s gonna happen if you call the cops? All of’em are scared of Pop and Uncle Sal, but they’re scared of Brocco Bernardi too. We gotta get out of here. We gotta get to Pop. Now let’s go,” Dom said forcefully and he and his very distraught older brother hurried to Jimmy’s Lamborghini. Dom put Jimmy on the passenger seat of his own car, he got in behind the wheel, and they sped away.
Dom looked over at Jimmy with a distressed look on his face. “What was that all about?”
“It was about nothing. That’ the crazy part. He claimed I was eyeballing his girl, when I don’t even know who his girl is. I haven’t seen Paulie Bernardi in years! But he kept insisting I wanted this mythical girl.”
“I saw his girl eyeballing you the whole time you were in that house. She wanted to jump your bones. That’s what he meant.”
“But I didn’t even see her watching me. I never even looked at her. How is her behavior my fault?”
“Because that’s how the mob world is, Jimmy. Uncle Tommy and Pop have been shielding your ass for too long from how it is. But that’s how it is, and you’re officially back in it, so get used to it. Now keep going. What happened next?”
“He pulled a gun on me. That’s what happened next. I fought for my life. What else could I do? It was him or me.”
“Damn right it was,” said a sympathetic Dom. “But that don’t mean there won’t be any repercussions and situations. There’s gonna be plenty. More than anybody in the family wants to deal with.” Then an anguished look appeared on Dom’s face. “You better pray he lives.”
Jimmy looked at Dom. “And if he doesn’t?”
“You know the saying: Your ass is grass. And guess who’s gonna be the lawn mower?”
Jimmy shook his head and looked out of the window at the darkness surrounding them. All because of some woman eyeballing him. As if he could control somebody else’s eyeballs. As if even if it were true, it was worth shooting somebody over. It was monumental ridiculousness to Jimmy. He thought that life was behind him, beyond him, or at least he was beyond it.
But he was a Gabrini and related to the Sinatras by blood. Mob was in his DNA so deep it was the main marker.
He leaned his head back in agony. Over it? Beyond it? Like who was he kidding? Like what on earth was he thinking?