Chapter 25
Tristano
I lunge for the big bouncer guarding the door, twisting my string around his neck while wriggling behind him.
Gunshots echo all around me in the confined Taj Mahal of backroom gambling. Frankie Laundry is screaming at the top of his lungs for the card players to hold their fire, but it’s too late. The large bouncer is chock full of holes.
The vibrations of the big pile of meat ring through me, and all I can hear is my own thumping heart as the gunfire renders me deaf.
“Argh, fucker!”
One bullet went completely through him and nicked my side. It takes all of my arm strength to keep the fat fuck upright by the string around his throat. He’s been dead for ten seconds already, which might as well be an eternity amidst gunfire.
When Frankie finally gets his way, I hurl the fat fuck at the table and reach for the doorknob.
Bang! Bang!
The door sparks, acting as my next shield as I dive into the dingy hardware store.
They’re expecting me to sprint as fast as I can out into the street, so I knock over a few heavy items and kick a shelf before taking cover in one of the far corners.
Would they be smart enough to know I didn’t open the front door?
Doubt it.
They’re unprepared.
If they run out of the store with guns in hand, Snaps will know something is amiss. It’ll be high fucking alert war between the families.
My hearing slightly returns amidst the ringing, enough to have my wits about me.
Capri. I grit my teeth, thinking of Nicky Frits making a move at Star Dust. Fuck.
I’ve never cared for someone this much. Not even close. Second would be my father, who’s been better at taking care of himself than his son for the past thirty years. But her?
She needs me.
And… I need her.
It took a fucking shootout and the heat of a bullet to realize it?
One look at my side shows a stain of blood on my polo. Nothing that’s going to stop me.
Woosh!
The back casino door swings open, and out steps an angry card player dual-wielding pistols in a suit like some kind of action star. Frankie’s still screaming about the dead bouncer and no hearing in one ear.
Bff!
Another thug comes stomping out.
“The prick took off like a bat out of hell. Valentino scum. C’mon!” They head toward the front door, and I’m as still as a cheetah waiting for my moment to strike. I need leverage if Nicky took Capri.
What if he shot her point-blank?
I clench my jaw at the sick thought, adrenaline mixing with anger. It makes me want to dive right back into the casino and strangle Frankie with my bare hands.
Bff!
Two more run out with guns drawn. They’re splitting up like morons, heading in every which direction. I even hear a car starting.
Me and Snaps didn’t rehearse any of this, but I gotta trust my man to do the right thing. Get back up, or something smart. Don’t make me regret having faith in you, Timmy. I swear to fucking God.
My hands are ripped to shreds from strangling the bouncer, but I pull out another tight string anyway.
I’m crouched, inching toward the door.
There’s only two of them left in there. Frankie and a card player. I didn’t notice any made guys besides him, so… when I get out of this, I’ll only have to atone for one sin in the mafia’s eyes.
Nah, I better kiss my capo wishes goodbye after this one.
God, if they fucking hurt Capri…
Bff!
When the door knocks open again, I lunge like a wolf and wrap the next man in a voiceless strangle. My foot stops the door from closing fully, and I embrace the struggle of the card player. I want him upright and kicking… so I can use him.
Woosh!
I kick the door open and shove the card player toward the last remaining guy in the back room – Frankie.
He wasn’t anticipating that, nor my steel grip stringing him up around his neck.
The disoriented man wouldn’t dare shoot Nicky’s second-in-command, so I take Frankie’s pistol out of the back of his pants and shoot the card player awkwardly trying to reorient himself.
“Shh.” I press the hot barrel an inch from Frankie’s head. “Not a word. Nod if you understand.”
With a snarl, he does as I ask.
“Using your finger, point to my cell.”
He leads me toward a drawer. I’m careful to tighten the string around his throat the closer we get. I’m not tolerating any funny business, as if the gurgling soon-to-be corpse on the floor wasn’t proof enough.
“Nicky’s gonna have your head, Knots ,” Frankie’s voice is strained. “It ain’t too late to rethink this. No made guys got kille—” He chokes and reaches desperately for the string.
“Shut the fuck up,” I warn, reaching for my cell.
Amid the coughing, the door creaks open, and before I turn—
“ Don’t fucking move.” One of the card players taps his gun on the door to assure I’m not in position to turn.
Heat centers around the back of my head, where I suspect the gun is aimed.
“Nice try, Knots. Really good fucking try.” He opens the door fully to inch into the casino.
“Something was itching me, telling me you didn’t flee for some reason. Then I heard the gunshots.”
Frankie chuckles in my grasp. “Four of a kind, buddy. You’re outmatched. Now get your grubby hands off my neck.”
“You heard the man.” The card player sounds smug. “No sudden movements—”
Bang!
I duck, and hear a thump on the floor behind me.
“Straight fu-fucking flush. Sorry I’m late, boss.” Snaps winces as he steps over the corpse.
“Snaps, you brilliant son of a bitch.” I smile wide. Straight fucking shooter right there. Then I turn to Frankie and tell him, “Time for a new game.”
xxx
Later that night, my blood pressure remains sky high – goddamn Lucrazis. As a matter of fact, it continues to tick up.
I toss Frankie into a dungeon in one of our warehouses at GFE Plus.
He’s got a bag over his head, and I have half a mind to bat him like a pinata for what went down tonight.
Snaps told me everything… how Bruno got shot.
Star Dust is closed for business following the incident of Nicky Frits’ raid.
And worst of all… Capri is nowhere to be found.
No way a boss sanctioned rolling in on a Valentino family business. No fucking way .
That means Nicky is operating out of the confines of Don Vino.
Unless this new boss of theirs is looking to blow up the entire mafia.
That’s not what my instincts tell me though.
They say Nicky and Sonny have been tight since they were up-and-comers.
Both eccentric in their weird way, and loyal beyond the grave, apparently.
After I cuff Frankie to the radiator, I pace around the wide-open room, my footsteps echoing. Ignoring Frankie’s muffled grunts is easy. In fact, it’s satisfying, like a lullaby.
My men are gathering here in the second-floor office. Pop is on the way from Pennsylvania, and I was forced to involve my goddamn cousin, Castor, for extra resources. I’m a man down, and might potentially have the weight of the whole Lucrazi-Barone allegiance on my shoulders.
Again, all this doesn’t matter.
Capri…
Bruno…
The front door of the warehouse swings open, and I run out of the room, glimpsing the moonlight from outside casting a shadow on my big friend – Mikey Tools.
My fists clench. “Tell me.”
“Good to see you’re alright, boss.”
“Bruno,” my voice raises.
Mikey nods. “He’s going to pull through. Deep shot to the arm. Fucker lost a lot of blood, but he’s stable in Doc Fuccio’s wing.”
“Thank God.” I run a hand through my hair, allowing myself a sigh of a relief. “Is he awake? I need him on the phone. He’s the only one who knows—”
Mikey’s eyes go wide, and it’s just now I realize I’ve been talking to myself about Capri all this time. No one else knows I give this much of a shit.
“Boss?”
“Capri. I made a promise to my father, to her father. I need to get her back,” I lie about the reason, but the result is all the same.
We talk logistics, and how Frankie can be used for a trade and potential ceasefire before things get really out of hand. We’re on the brink of war – and a war in the mob means looking over your shoulder every waking minute.
It’s not good for business.
It’s not good for life.
But if I don’t get Capri back, you best believe that’s where this is going.
My father rolls up an hour later. He’s a welcome sight, even if he is a limping mess. I hate the way he tries to hide the pain he’s in – holding back his coughs, pretending to have good posture. It’s pathetic.
“Hey, kid.” He kisses me once on each cheek. “You look better than I expected.” One slap on my bloody side makes me wince, and I jokingly hold up a fist pretending to punch him, which makes him laugh. “How bad is it?”
We take a walk toward the back of the dark warehouse, moonlight creeping through the fifty-foot-high skylights. I can’t help but notice all of the popped vessels on his cheeks as we pace in and out of the light. He’s turning ghoulish. It tightens my chest to see him bending to the hand of time.
“Four bodies – no made guys,” I say flatly.
My father looks at me with an eyebrow raised. “That’s it?”
“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? It’s a big fuckin’ deal—”
He slaps me lightly and holds his hand on my face. “You’re not giving me shit about my decision to help Rocco? No ‘it’s all because of your sentimental bullshit,’ blah blah. The fuck’s gotten into you? This is all my fault, as you love to point out.”
I turn away, lips tight.
“You have feelings for the girl, don’t you?” He snickers.
“They have her, Pop.”
His cackling stops immediately. “The fuck you mean, ‘they have her’?”
“When I went to pay Nicky a visit at the tool shop, he was one step ahead of me, on the way to Star Dust. Apparently, he bugged Capri’s lawyer friends and used them to pin her. It’s all screwed up.”
My father licks his teeth and spits on my floor. “No. You screwed up, kid.” He points a finger in my face.
Blood boils in my belly – not because he’s reprimanding me… but because he’s right. I nabbed a knight off Nicky’s chess board, but he took a goddamn queen.
His eyes scan my face. “Hmph.”
“What?” I narrow my eyes.
“I’m proud of you.” His finger turns into another light slap on my face, followed by an intense coughing fit. He wheezes so hard I have to grab him under the arm.
“The hell are you talking about?” I pat his back.
He clears his throat and comes back up for air. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for you to grow the fuck up? Least in my dying days, I get to see it. Written all over your face, kid. You care about Capri.”
My fist clenches. “We’re at the brink of war with the Lucrazis, and this is what you say?”
“I’m talking about what matters, yeah.” Pop nods. “And all you’re doing is trying to deflect.”
“Fuck off .” I turn on him again, backhanding the air.
“There’s no shame in caring, kid. I’d have done anything for your mother.”
“Is that why you’re waist deep in strippers all the time?” I growl.
“You know what Mom told me before she went? She said, ‘You do what you want, Stanzo, but you gotta promise me two things.’” He holds up two fingers. “‘Take care of our boy, and you better not remarry .’” He starts laughing into a cough, and I can’t help myself either.
My mom was funny.
I miss her.
“I did my best on both fronts, Tristano. Now I’m going to offer one more to keep my end of the bargain.”
“Stop with all the cryptic shit, Pop. We have to figure this out.”
“It’s already figured out. I’m giving myself up to the Lucrazis.”
My brow furrows, and a disbelieving laugh puffs from my mouth. “Like hell you are.”
“It’s the least I can do. We’ll end this right now – nip it in the bud.”
“They’d torture you endlessly. Over my dead body .” Now my finger is in his face.
“It’ll be me and Frankie in exchange for Capri. It’s the only way a hothead like Nicky will accept the terms without Rocco. You know it. I know it.”
“Fuck no.” I refuse to even entertain this nonsense.
He drops both his hands on my shoulders. I can feel his fingers trembling. “Listen—”
I’m about to shrug myself free, but he presses down, reminding me that there’s still a killer’s strength inside him.
“ Hey ,” he raises his voice. “I know I can’t control your life. Lord fucking knows, every time I try, you run a hundred miles an hour in the other direction. I’ve come to understand that’s the nature of things between a kid and his dad. But , that doesn’t mean I can’t nudge you.”
I hear his voice getting hoarse, which in turn makes my eyes dry a bit.
He looks so damn pathetic.
“That day in Rocco’s backyard. By the pool. I saw that same fire Mom and me had. I saw it in you two. Your banter. Her refusal to be intimidated by a six-foot-two stud. You don’t find that every day. She’s special, kid. And now that I see you falling all over yourself—”
I break eye contact, thinking about what they might be doing to her.
“—I know I made the right choice.” He pats me twice and pushes off.
“ Yo! ” Mikey calls from the front. “Your cousin’s here. He brought friends.”