Chapter 26
Castor
It’s been almost a week since that horrible night. Ever since, Gia’s been distant. I don’t know if she’s scared of her dipshit brother or what, but I’m not someone who’s going to sit on the sidelines and let someone as perfect as her fizzle out of my life.
Fucking Marco.
I sit back on a stool in an upscale bar in AC, waiting for my crew to arrive. Our first payout from Patrovski is in a suitcase at my feet, which is a big fucking deal. He snickered when I met with him. Delivering the green personally was just so he could see my face – my black and blue, screwed up face – after he sent my own man on me.
It’s over, though. We’re done screwing with each other. After his laughs, and me letting it go for the sake of business, we had a heart-to-heart… because the money is too goddamn good to pass up.
That’s not important to me anymore, though. Gia is.
I keep replaying the last time we saw each other three days ago. She was distant – not in the mood for a dinner date or sex. And she wasn’t wearing the bracelet I got her. Does she not like diamonds? I asked her. She said it was too beautiful for casual wear, but I don’t know.
I clasp my hands around my whiskey glass, letting the coolness calm my nerves. Yeah, I take it with ice now, ever since that night she snuck behind the bar and took it upon herself to pour me a scotch. My chest feels weak just thinking about it. She was mad at me then, too, for a different reason. The revenge I took to protect her was too gruesome. I keep messing it all up. But really? I’m clearing the way so we can have a good life together. Just don’t give up on us, kid.
A swig numbs my lips and a bit of the pain. Going over the conversation in my head doesn’t help. Asking her if she was still mad about me and Marco beating the shit out of each other, or the man drowned in gold, or anything else, she just brushed it off as if she was having a bad day.
It’s not her period. Can’t be. I fucked her on it over a week ago. Been jerkin’ it to that time for six nights straight now.
“There he is!” Big Ace waddles to the bar from the mall walkway. He’s all smiles because he’s about to get his share of the big day. He looks me up and down, trying to judge how beaten up I am. The whole crew heard about Marco going off the rails, so it’s about time I sat everyone down and got it all aired out – to my main crew at least.
“Been putting vitamin E on that, right?” He squints to better look at the wound on my cheek.
“Don’t worry about me, Ace.”
“It’s my job to. Fat prick actually paid up, huh?” He points at the briefcase and slaps my shoulder.
I look at his belly as if to say, are you sure you should be calling someone else that?
We both laugh as he comes in for a hug.
“The Stallion is sending one of his men for his and Rigiano’s share,” I reveal.
“Oh shit, the Don himself. Who’s his proxy?”
I shrug. “John Scar or Dice, probably.”
Ace nods.
“I hope it’s the former,” I say. “Otherwise I’m going to be bailing two fuckheads out of gambling debt.”
“Oh please. I’m always up, baby.” Ace takes a seat next to me, and nods to the others on their way.
Ratchet struts in with two other runners. Limbatso and Fugino. One bows too much like we’re in Japan, and the other has a nervous twitch, but they’re both loyal dogs.
“Give it a few more minutes, then we’ll head to the back,” I tell Ace while saying my hellos to the crew. “Sit, get a drink. Yes, this place is safe. I offered a gift to the owner’s daughter that he’s still praising me for.”
“The whole tri-state is going to be in your debt soon, Bull. It’s good for business.” Ratchet winks.
We wait another ten minutes for the others, and when I see Marco stalking into the bar, I get up and motion everyone toward the back. I stay behind to greet him.
His face healed well, honestly. Still a little discolored around the eyes, but his nose is fixed and less swollen.
We stand face-to-face for the first time since that night. I remain with my hand out, taking a risk of being left hanging with people watching. He stares at me for a long minute – hate, fire in his eyes. After a snap of his tongue, he finally extends his hand.
“Mommy kiss your booboos?” he taunts me.
“Yep. Did yours tuck you in and read you a lullaby?”
“Nah, she couldn’t find me amid all the clothes.” He laughs and pats my back once.
“You really should just hire a maid. What the hell’s the matter with you?” We both work to push past the awkwardness. I wonder if he knows I intend to air it all out.
“A stranger? In my house? Fuck that. Not now, not ever.”
“So you’re just going to live like a hoarder for the rest of your days? At least get the front light fixed, jeez.”
“Yo. Did I invite you over that night? Huh? Didn’t think so. Fuck off.”
We head through an old-style Italian restaurant, to a private back room of mahogany wooden doors. As we push through, the room is already buzzing with red-faced ginzos and laughter that would get any other group kicked out.
I shut the doors behind me and shove Marco lightly to the side for him to take a seat. Voices start to calm, eyes start to shift to their capo. To me.
“Gentlemen.” I knock on the rosemary wood table, my gold rings making plenty of noise.
Radio silence falls around me, the echoes of chatter still bouncing around the walls. One of my men wait outside to stall any waiters.
“It’s a big day, people. Big fucking day for the golden crew.” I slam the suitcase down on the table and flick it open to piles of neatly wrapped cash. Making a show of its beauty causes all eyes around me to brighten. Then I slam it shut. “But first, I have an announcement.”
Marco crosses his loafer over a knee. I can see him fidgeting out of the corner of my eye.
“A lot of you heard through the grape vine how Marco and myself got these, uh, scratches.” I pause to let the chuckles ring through the room, keeping it as light as I can. Marco isn’t smiling, though. “Well, it’s fucking true. I’m with Gia Castellano, Marco’s little sister. It’s also true that I fucked up by keeping it a secret. That is not how a boss should operate, and it’s certainly not how a brother should act. Like the brothers that we are, we fought, we shouted, we shot guns and puffed our chests. But in the end, I was wrong.”
Some eyes avert from mine as I peruse the room, others nod. But it’s clear everyone is uncomfortable.
“Am I going to stop dating Gia ’cause of this sick fuck?” I kick his chair. “No. He’s going to have to kill me first. And if he decides to do something that stupid, as punishment, I’m going to make him take my job.”
“Fuck that.” Marco finally cracks a smile.
The room breaks at Hairtrigger’s response. Laughs fill the room once more.
“That’s what I thought.” I smile and grab my scotch. “So with that, I want everyone to raise their drinks. Not only a night of riches, but, of humble new beginnings… for all of us. Cent’anni.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Ey! Someone start the party without pretty boy? This tree out here won’t budge. Open up!”
I nod for one of the boys to open the door.
The doors swing open to reveal a bright white smile and eyes that light up like it’s the first time this prick has seen me.
“Mr. Gold himself. C’mere you.” Sal Dicey Matteo reaches up to give me a double-kiss on the cheek. “You know, we’re only two letters away from being brothers. You should be happier to see me.” He slaps my cheek twice.
“Good to see you, Dice.”
“You too, my man. Donny briefed me. Said you’re a fucking rock star. I don’t know how you do it. Oh!” His attention swings to Big Ace. He runs and jumps on his back like a little kid scaling a building. “You know, at some Indian weddings, the prince rides a horse like this.”
Ace cackles and reaches back to muss up his hair. “Mini-me. I missed you.”
Those two are trouble… in a good way, I guess.
The wait staff pool in with appetizer trays and drink refills before I order the doors shut again to distribute the cash. Everyone is a pig in shit today. A little hard overtime meant literally double the income. And if I can keep Patrovski on a short leash, it’ll stay that way.
We take our seats for the main course – me at the head of the table, Marco to my left, Ratchet to my right. Dicey and Ace are rippin’ on one another to the rest of the table’s delight. It’s good to see the crew eat well. They’ve earned it. At least one part of my life makes some sense.
Me and Marco rely on Ratchet’s small talk for most of the evening. It’s still awkward between us. I can tell if he’s analyzing me, and as capo, I can’t show that it’s any bother.
“Okay, okay.” Dicey gets up from his seat, dinging a glass with his fork. “Bellies full? I’d hold off on the cappuccinos, boys, ’cause I took it upon myself to spend some of my share in advance.”
“What you do, Dicey?” Fugino yells across the table.
Sal winks and claps twice like a matador, and the double-doors fling open to a harem of upscale Vegas style women strutting into the room.
I sigh internally, noticing the families in the restaurants shaking their heads. One teenage boy can’t stop staring, which makes me hoot. But nonetheless, it’s time for me to leave.
“The fuck you going?” Marco spreads his arms.
“This isn’t my scene anymore.” I give him eyes to make sure he understands.
“That’s not the way we do things.” Marco’s expression grows stern. “This is harmless.”
Is he testing me? Or is he serious? Can’t tell when he’s not coked-up. Don’t care, either. I’m not here to play games. I did what I came to do. Spent too much time away, if I’m being honest. Now it’s time to mend things with her.
“Watch those two for me.” I squeeze Marco’s shoulder, pointing to Sal and Ace. “I don’t want to have to buy the whole fucking casino.”
“Mm.” Marco is displeased.
Maybe deep down he misses me as his partner-in-crime. At least now he won’t make a scene about me leaving. He knows who I’m going to see.
“Everyone.” I button my suit. “Live it up. You bastards deserve it.”
“Ey!” Some drinks go up.
“Ciao, boss.”
“Later, Bull!”
“Long live the gold crew!” Sal ‘woos.’
I shrug two ladies off of me – politely of course – take my suitcase and exit with grace. Marco’s eyes are on me the whole time. He ain’t even trying to hide it.