Chapter 22
Gia
I’ve been on edge all evening. I don’t know why I didn’t take a shift at Bangos tonight. Thinking about Castor’s ‘big day’ left a pit in the bottom of my stomach since morning. I have no idea if he’s safe, in danger, at gunpoint.
Shit.
What if my jackass brother doesn’t show for his part of the job?
Or what if the Russians sabotage him before he can even say a word?
I bite my lip while ripping past my latest portrait. It’s like ever since I met him, the serene landscapes that took me all the way to three in the morning don’t do anything for me anymore. Everything is dark, gritty. Men with sunken faces, cigarettes, knives. Whatever, it gets the worry out of my head, so that’s what I’m going to keep doing.
Bzzt!
My heart stalls when I hear my phone going off in the other room where its charging. I drop my brush and run like I’m being chased.
Bzzt! Bzzt!
It’s a call, not a text.
Castor!
“Hello?” I’m out of breath.
“It’s done,” his deep voice purrs on the other end. “Come outside in five. We’re celebrating.”
The pit in my stomach evaporates into warm mist all over my insides. I can feel his smirk through the phone and can’t wait to bury myself in his chest.
Thank God he’s okay.
I can’t live like this – in worry all the time – but the sound of his voice sent me straight from the depths of hell to cloud nine.
“What should I wear?”
“The less the better.”
Tingles pinch me all over. Something skimpy. Fine. I can do that.
For once I’m all freshened up and ready to be wooed. He might like me less for it, given how sick he is, but he’ll just have to deal with it.
I fantasize about the night before, when he licked every part of me despite how I felt. My salty neck, my toes, my ass. Am I a goddess to him?
Looking in the mirror I realize I’m blushing.
It’s hot outside tonight, so I slip into some pretty short-shorts and my favorite blouse for showing off the girls. He’ll have a view no matter which way I’m facing. I lick my lips as my mind wanders again to last night. A whirlwind of romance and pleasure… and a declaration that tugged on all the strings.
He loves me.
I love him.
I bite my lower lip. It’s too good to be true.
Good thing my make-up was already done since I had the whole damn afternoon to do nothing but worry. I hear the rumble of his Range Rover outside, so I slip into my nicest Tori Birch flats and rush out of my apartment into the fresh air.
I open the car door to see him unscathed, with one arm around the passenger’s headrest like normal. Something’s off, though. A hint of worry in his eyes that flashes away the instant I lean in for a kiss.
“So it all worked out?” I drape one arm over his belly, scratching at it.
“You speak like you had doubts.” He looks down on me, his eyes glancing over my lips, making me imagine all the things he wants to do to me.
“Just worry. I hate how you boys live,” I reiterate. “So that’s it, then? No more ‘big risky swings,’ as you say.”
He nods, but there’s another flash of worry.
“What is it, Castor? I can read you like a book.”
He grunts and pulls away, eyes on the road. “Something the Russian said left a real bad taste in my mouth.”
“I thought you like bad tastes?” I twirl my finger in between the buttons of his shirt.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You taste great.” He smirks again.
My insides wilt. That settles it. I’m his goddess. “What did he say? If you’re still here, it can’t be that bad.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know what he’s done, but he seemed really confident that he pulled a trigger somewhere that I can’t see.”
My brow furrows. I don’t know much about mafia business dealings, but if Castor’s worried, I probably should be too. “Do you trust him to carry out his part?”
“There’s no reason he shouldn’t. His profits will be higher than any other job if he can pivot to carry real weight.” He looks over at me to see my perplexed expression. “Oh, I trade metals, he’s used to drugs.”
“Ah.”
“His face was so smug.” Castor shakes his head. “I played my hand flawlessly. I know I did. But—”
“Maybe he was just trying to get in your head since you bested him,” I suggest.
“Maybe…”
His eyes drift as we turn onto Cross Bay Boulevard. He goes somewhere else for a minute, somewhere I wish I could go with to comfort him.
“It’s going to be alright, babe. I love you.” I offer a kiss on his cheek, and he squeezes my hand in reassurance. “We’ll figure it out.”
He grunts in agreement, then reaches inside his pocket. “Got you a little present to celebrate.” He smirks at me.
“Oh c’mon. You can’t keep showering me like this. I wear my pin everywhere, see?” I flip the fabric of my blouse inside out to show him – right near my breast. “It’s all I need.”
“I decide what you need,” he says, shoving the gift into my hands.
“Well, if you insist. What do we have here? Oh, a little black box. My favorite.” I’m a schoolgirl again, one that has never been spoiled. I don’t need more jewelry to be happy, just my big muscle of a man. But this is a nice touch.
I open the box, failing to stifle a gasp. A gold bracelet stacked with diamonds all the way around, with a big ‘CG’ at the center.
“Castor…”
“Only the best for my woman.”
I clutch the bracelet to my chest, again stuck in a reel of memories of our past. He would rustle my hair when I was a kid, while I dreamt of him. He’d offer me a slice of pizza after he and my brother were done with their part. I was like a little sister to him, then. A forgotten one.
Now, he dreams of me too.
“That’s not all, kid.” He reaches in the backseat behind me and pulls out something wrapped in plastic. His arm flexes, which means it’s heavy.
My eyes widen when I realize what it is.
“Your first mold.” He smiles at me. “So you can start that art business you always wanted.”
“Castor!”
“I set you up an art station in one of my shops, too. If you want it.”
It’s all I could ever have hoped. He cares about me… supports my dreams. As the light turns green and he turns to the road again, I can’t help but stare at the amazing man making me feel like a million bucks.
Scrrrrt!
A car screeches behind us, causing Castor to jerk the wheel to avoid getting hit.
“The fuck?” he growls, glancing to his right, past me.
My heart races. I drop my gift, grabbing onto the center console in fear. And when I glimpse the roaring engine to our side, I nearly die.
“Marco…”
“Fuck,” Castor curses. “That’s what that prick did. He ratted us to your brother.” He presses the button to roll down the window, displaying Marco’s crazed eyes, red nose, and flexed arm over his wheel.
“My fucking sister?” he shouts in feral anger.
Boom!
He jerks his car right into ours, and I scream as my head jerks back and forth, nearly slamming into the car door. Had the window not been down, that could’ve been worse.
“Marco, are you crazy?” Castor stabilizes the car. “You’ll kill us all!”
“Snake! Cunt! Both of you should die in a fiery wreck!”
Castor cuts across traffic, avoiding two cars as he U-turns onto the other side of the street. “Hold tight,” he growls.
Tires screech, and my head spins from being whipped around.
Marco’s car nearly one-eighties as he races to keep up.
One look in the passenger’s mirror shows smoky tires and an out-of-control car roaring at our backs.
“You okay?” He squeezes my hand.
I nod, but I’m not okay.
“We’re going to put an end to this, once and for all,” he promises. “But first, I have to keep you safe.”
He whips the car down a street at the last second, almost causing Marco to crash onto the sidewalk. Then, in a quick movement, he pulls the car deep into a tight driveway, way too tight for Marco to ram in his speeding rampage.
Castor shoves the car into park and looks at me hard in the eyes. “Stay here. I’ll deal with this.”
I shake my head. “He’ll kill you! He’s fucking insane, Castor. We should just run.”
“It’s too late for running and hiding, Gia. This is it. The Russian’s final fucking test to break us.”
“It was never the Russians who were going to break us, Castor. It’s him.”
Headlights brighten Castor’s face as Marco’s engine roars like a lion.
Lights on the second floor of the stranger’s house flick on.
“Castor!”
Castor shuts the door and walks out in the open with his hands up.
“Hey, what the hell is going on down there?” a middle-aged man calls from the second floor.
Marco gets out of the car with a loaded Desert Eagle, pointing the gun at the stranger. “Call the cops, everyone dies. You want that on your hands? One fucking siren!” He marches forward when he’s done with the stranger, stomping up with his angry duck-walk, head hunched, gun pointed.
“My fucking sister, Cast?” He laughs like the idea is insane. “And I have to hear it from our fucking enemies? You are scum.”
“Marco, let’s talk this out,” Castor speaks calmly.
“No, no, no. You don’t get to talk your way out of this one, you prick. This night ends with a bullet in your fucking head.”
Castor takes a step forward, and a gun goes off.
“Ah!”I scream and run out of the car. There’s a trail of smoke by Castor’s loafer. “Marco, stop!”
Bang!
Castor doesn’t flinch, but there’s another spark near his feet.
“I’m not fucking dancing for you,” Castor growls.
“Get back in the car, Gia. I’ll deal with you after I kill this prick. He needs to hear some words first.” Marco runs his finger under his nose. “Get in the car, now! I’ll shave your fucking head and send you to live with the monks. I swear to fucking God.” He points the gun on me, and I gulp.
“Hey!” Castor claps his hands. “Focus, you fucking idiot. It’s me you want.”
The gun swings back to Castor, which makes tears roll down my eyes. He’s really going to kill him.
“Yeah, it is you,” Marco’s voice grows eerily still. “Sending me on faraway errands. Acting aloof all these months. I knew something was up, but I never imagined this. Behind my fucking back. Calling me brother for the past fifteen years. This is worse than being a rat, Castor.”
“I love her.”
“Fuck you.”His arm straightens. “You think you have power over me because you’re ‘capo.’” He laughs loud. “When we both know you’ve been scared of me since we became friends in high school. That’s why you hide. Spineless prick. You need to fuck her to get some level over me or something. The fuck is it, huh?” He turns his gun sideways.
“Marco, please,” I beg, but his face only tenses up more at the sound of my voice.
Castor takes another step forward, the headlights casting him half in shadow. “I love your sister, Marco. I don’t know how it happened, but it came like a whirlwind. If this is the way it has to be… if I – your fucking brother in all but blood – am not good enough for her, pull the trigger.” He shrugs, testing him.
My heart is pulsing in my ears. I can’t hear my own thoughts. Biting my knuckles does nothing.
Don’t do it, Marco.
Please.
Marco’s teeth grit hard. His jawline looks like it’s about to snap, and he hasn’t blinked once.
“Ahh!” Marco screams, firing a full magazine into the air and then hurling the gun at Castor.
Castor ducks the flying weapon, then tenses to defend against the psycho charging at him.
“Piece—of fucking—shit!” Marco wails on Castor – who throws his arms up like a boxer to block.
“God, oh God,” I talk to myself as I stand there helplessly. If I get in the middle of that, my own brother might smash my head in. “Stop!”
As soon as Marco lets up, Castor breaks from his block and knocks Marco right in the face. His head jerks back, blood leaking from his lip, followed by an angry laugh. “I’m going to enjoy strangling you to death with my bear hands, Cast. You had me fooled good. Piece of shit.”
Marco throws another hook that Castor ducks, then receives a swift counter-punch to the face. Blood splatters over the concrete floor.
“That’s it, I’m calling the cops!” The homeowner has had enough. “Get the hell off my property!”
I notice bruises forming on both their faces, but there’s nothing I can do but scream.
“What, Gia, you can throw me to the wind, but fucking him behind my back is okay? You won’t even look at your own fucking blood,” Marco yells at me while throwing more haymakers at Castor. “We’re the same—” Another hook. “—Fucking—” One more – this one connected under Castor’s jaw. “—Person!”
Castor spits blood and emerges to his full height, dwarfing Marco in mass. Anger reels in his eyes.
“Oh, here he comes, the big man who hides.” Marco slaps his own chest.
“I just didn’t want to hurt you,” Castor snarls. “But I guess you need a fucking lesson too.” He ducks into Marco’s space, avoiding a quick fist, then grabs Marco by the hair and headbutts him stumbling back.
Marco’s next laugh sends chills through me. His face is a bloody mess, and by no means should he still be standing. But he seems to enjoy it.
“That’s the difference between you and me, Cast. I’m not afraid of anything.” He puffs his chest, then lifts his fists again. “You can hide all you want, I’ll find you eventually. And I’ll fucking kill you.”
He rushes forward, and this time they grapple. My brother is so coked-up he’s able to match Castor’s strength. They both scrape hard against the ground as fists wail.
I can’t take it and desperately grab for Marco’s arm only to be shoved back by sheer force.
“Stop!” I cry.
“I save you from the Italians—” Castor cracks him in the face with his elbow. “Rescue you from the Colombians—” Another hard hit connects with his cheek. “— bail you out of your own fuckin’ stupor.” He lifts up, straddled over the lesser, breathing heavily. “And still it’s not enough? What’s it going to take, Marco? Huh? Fifteen more years?”
Marco shouts and whips a blurring punch right at Castor’s throat, sending him rolling again. “Nobody in our line is good enough for her, especially not you. Snake fuck! Every added year is a strike against you. Fucking piece of— argh!”
Poomf! Castor punches Marco so hard he rolls off of him, coughing in a push-up position.
They stare at each other, both gasping and bleeding all over the stranger’s backyard. I’m holding my hair, at a loss.
“Well?” Castor’s out of breath. “Are we done? Am I good enough for her yet?”
Marco starts laughing like a hyena, which both relieves and terrifies me. He sits on his backside and lights a cigarette – the flame illuminating his blood-ridden, swelling face.
Castor sits upright and wipes blood from his mouth. “This is a sick fucking induction to your family, asshole.” Castor touches his blown-up lip.
They both sit there on their asses, laughing, and I’m at a goddamn loss. My heart is still pounding through my entire body, but at least I can breathe again.
“You two are sick.” I shake my head, then gasp when I hear sirens in the distance. “Cops! Let’s go!”