Chapter 11
Castor
Marco’s new place is lavish. One of those high-column mansions sitting on a hill in Howard Beach, Queens. It’s gaudy, with a crystal chandelier peeking out of the ten-foot center window and winged lion statues guarding his walkway. It’s like he’s begging to be busted by the feds. But I’m no better. My columns are literally plated with gold.
Success looks good on us.
I’m sitting in my car waiting for this asshole to get up. I gave him an extra day to recover from AC, because God knows he would’ve been useless after the state I left him in. Is he still mad about me scolding him in front of our whole crew? The prick started it, and he’s gotta learn to calm his fucking dick, but still… I feel bad. Watching him spiral for years now is a sorry sight. And there’s nothing I can do about it.
Then there’s Gia. Things are getting heavy, fast. She consumes most of my thoughts at this point, which is way, way out of character for me. Usually it’s a pleasure-fest then a disregarded thought afterward. But with her? I want the whole thing – dates, gifts. Hell, I’ll even watch those stupid shows if it makes her happy.
The fuck is the matter with me?
I’m concerned about the text I got from her too – someone keeping watch that I’m not aware of? If it’s Marco, then he knows my little secret, and there’s about to be a shootout at the crack of dawn. If not… I’m at a loss.
Someone else might be after me.
Donny – our Valentino boss – always warned about my flashy style. Said there’s a way to be lavish without calling attention. This thing of ours needs to have longevity.
He’s right, of course. But when you’re in someone’s crosshairs half of your days, it begs the question: Why live little?
A twinge twists my gut as I think the worst. Gia’s cute face nuzzled into my arm makes me consider whether I’m too reckless now that I got somebody to care for. I want to keep seeing her. She’s worth some longevity.
Marco slams his door and flaps his leather jacket as he exits his mansion. His duck-walk and hunched head makes him look like he’s going to fight the statues. But that’s just him. Nothing out of the ordinary.
“Morning, sunshine,” I test the waters.
“Mmph,” he grunts and hops into the passenger seat.
I nod toward the black coffee I got him, and he sips it without even testing how scalding hot it is. Makes me wonder if his whole face is permanently numb from the coke.
“The boys were shocked you left ’em.” Marco’s voice is more air than sound. “That fat Russian fuck you’re courting asked for you too, apparently. Ace had to lie for your ass.”
“You’re all capable men,” I say. “I’m sure you can cover for your capo when you have to.”
“Yeah, but that’s the thing, Cast. What the fuck are we covering? Yeah, you slapped me around at the lounge. Maybe I deserved it.”
“Oh, your head is finally screwed on straight?” I side-eye him.
“Yeah, maybe. But now it’s just us. You got no one to beat your chest for. So what’s the fucking deal?”
I scoff. “I’m just going through something. Nervous about the Russians and what I have to pull off to double our cash flow.”
“You? Nervous? About… business? I don’t buy it for one second.” Marco leans over and sticks a finger in my face. His bloodshot eyes and hoarse voice would usually make me dismiss him as a junkie, but he’s spot on with his instincts. “I’ve known you since we were kids. And I know when something’s up. You in deep, or something?”
I might be.
“What is it, Cast? Gambling debt? You downplaying this Russian thing? They got a hit on you?” Marco furrows his brow when I don’t say anything. “Whatever it is, you know we can handle it. We always do.”
Those words hurt like a punch to the gut.
What the hell am I doing, sneaking around like this?
I’m betraying him…
“Let me sit on it, and when the time is right, we’ll talk about what’s eating me,” I lie.
“Fuck that—”
“Hey!” I turn abruptly in my seat, making Marco shrink into his. “Do I bother you about your obvious coke problem? Or your hot fucking head that always has me explaining?”
He snaps his tongue and turns sharply to look out the window.
“Yeah, didn’t think so. Some mutual respect, is all I ask.” I hold out my fist, which he glances at, then reluctantly bumps. “We’re brothers, asshole. Don’t forget it.”
I rev my engine to echo my frustration. I just ramped up the doomsday clock by making a show of this and ensured we’re going to kill each other if I don’t get a handle on this Gia thing.
As much as I don’t want to, I think I have to pull back.
Her arms around me two nights ago makes the idea impossible. I want that again. But what am I risking if I go get it?
We drive into the city to take care of some collections. I built my business to be technology-proof, for ‘longevity,’ as Donny likes to preach. Jewelry and precious metals are the core of it, and will never go out of style, no matter how underground the mob has to go. My muscle – Marco – is here in case someone tries to go back on their terms, which happens a lot in my line of work. Just not to me.
They all know I roll with the Hairtrigger. Gossip spreads.
After our third smooth pick-up, Marco brings up the one thing that makes me tense.
“Yo, ever since this new cash from our expanded distribution, things have been different with the family,” Marco says. “Mom treats me like I walk on water, but she’s more worried than ever. And Gia… I thought we got past our issues when I saw her at Bangos that night. But she’s as mad as ever at me.”
“We’re all just worried about you,” I say flatly.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. That’s for the women,” he snarls. “My point is, I’m trying to do the right thing and make their lives comfortable. A little gratitude—”
“Our families will never approve of how we make money, Marco, no matter how high we climb. You know that.”
“The cross we bear, huh?” He pulls out his pistol and admires it.
I grow more tense at the sight. He didn’t get his name from nothing. I’m wondering if he’s playing me, and he knows all about me and his sister. I’d overpower him in a second. But I don’t want him to die.
“Gia’s been acting strange too.” Marco releases the clip to check his bullets. “Missed her first shift in three years yesterday. I’m wondering if it has something to do with me showing my face week before last. She always despised the mob. Maybe the sight of me made her scared again.”
I remain silent, paying attention to his hands more than his words.
“Maybe it’s something else…” his voice crawls. “Either way, I’m worried about her.” He shoves the gun into the back of his pants, and I take a breath.
“I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s got a cold or something.” I shrug.
“Nah. Something’s up. No way she would’ve accepted your invitation to our show if she wasn’t strapped for cash or something.”
I laugh at that. “Your sister? I doubt we’d catch her strung out at the slot machines, Marco. Besides, I paid her that night. Sure she’ll be fine for a while.”
Marco leans back in his seat and laughs alongside me. “You’re probably right. Hell, she wouldn’t accept my cash though. Guess your gold is less dirty than mine.”
A part of me wants this Gia conversation to be over. But really? I love talking about her, even if my secret is life-or-death when it comes to him. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.