Chapter 47
Chapter
Forty-Seven
Vince
“Only when Uncle Joseph learned Aldo was my brother did he track me down and dangle the carrot of me becoming a made man,” I explain. “It was fraud, pure and simple.”
“But Antonio approved you,” Romeo points out.
“And that would’ve never happened but for Uncle Joseph’s sponsorship.” My fists are clinched as I continue, “I had no other ties to the family; no made man to vouch for me. I was played by a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and I fucking fell for it.”
Vince, eighteen- years old
“Welcome to the family,” Antonio Parisi announces, and I’m on cloud nine. No, I’m on cloud fucking ten.
Practically floating out of the ceremony room, everyone congratulates me. “Proud moment, my boy.” Uncle Joseph gives me a double cheek kiss.
“Thank you, Uncle Joseph.” We’ve had our ups and downs, but I wouldn’t be a Parisi family man without him. And I’d never tell him this, but I’m so damn lucky that our paths crossed.
“Vince, let’s go celebrate.” Mike, a fellow newbie soldier, slaps my back.
“Yeah, I’ll meet you at Sergio’s. I’ve gotta check on my brother.”
“Nonsense. I’ll keep an eye on him. You’re only young once. Go celebrate,” Uncle Joseph tells me.
“Yeah, alright,” I say hesitantly. “Tell Aldo I’ll be there to pick him up at midnight.”
“Midnight? Vince, my man, we’re partying all night.” Mike does a little dance.
“Midnight,” I tell Uncle Joseph.
I drive to Sergio’s restaurant, my mind on Aldo. His attitude has taken a nosedive here lately, but he won’t tell me why. No doubt he doesn’t get enough sleep. I’ve had to pull him from school and get him a tutor because of our late hours. Guilt gnaws at me because I promised Aldo he would get to be a kid, but the odds weren’t in our favor.
Arriving at Sergio’s, the party’s in full swing, with food and booze flowing freely. I shoot the shit with the guys before checking my watch. It’s not quite eleven, but I’m ready to bounce.
“I’m headed out,” I tell my crew.
“No!” The guys heckle me, but I smile and wave.
“Good, more pussy for us,” Sal says.
“Maybe you’ll have a fighting chance with me gone,” I agree.
“Sympathy fucks because of your eye patch don’t count,” he calls after me, but I ignore him. I get the feeling I’ll be doing a lot of that with loudmouth Sal.
Arriving at the sports bar, I get an uneasy feeling when I don’t find my brother in my office. “Where’s Aldo?” I ask the bartender, who’s putting chairs on the table, readying the bar to close.
“I’m not sure. He was running slips earlier. Check the warehouse.”
I don’t like this. Aldo knows he’s supposed to hang out in my office when the games are over.
Walking across the street, I enter the empty warehouse. The light’s on in Uncle Joseph’s office, and I don’t know why my stomach is suddenly in knots. Quietly, I try the door handle, but it’s locked.
My hand shaking, I reach in my pocket and grab my key ring. I’m the only other person with the key to the boss’s office, and I’ve never used it. Until now.
Opening the door, what I find…I wish I didn’t.
Adrenaline takes over, and I’m across the room in a flash, pulling Uncle Joseph off my crying, naked brother.
“Vince, this isn’t what it looks like ? —”
He tries to put his dick up, but I grab my boss and slam him on his desk. My hands are around his throat as I squeeze.
Uncle Joseph’s knee connects with my balls, and I let out a whoosh of air, causing me to lose my grip. He lunges for his desk drawer, going for his gun, but before he can open it, I grab the gold letter opener laying on his desk, jamming it into his left eye.
He lets out an ungodly cry, convulsing wildly as blood oozes out of his eye socket as I twist the handle.
“An eye for an eye.” I press down with all my might until I’m hitting the back of his skull.
Uncle Joseph’s eyeball splits in half as his body goes still.
“Vince, that whole situation was fucked up. Nobody’s denying it.” Sam holds up his hands. “But nobody’s walked away from the family, either.”
“Because nobody’s ever been in my fucked up situation,” I counter. “I demand restitution for me and my brother, and this is what I’m asking.”
“ Restitution ?” Romeo says incredulously. “You’d be fucking six feet under if not for me. There’s your restitution.”
Vince, eighteen-years old
I shift in my chair, examining the bits of dried blood under my fingernails. It all feels like a dream. I’m vaguely aware that someone took me and Aldo to Doc Caruso’s clinic, and after we dropped Aldo off with Mrs. Polaski, I was brought to this warehouse in Newark.
The image of my little brother being raped by Uncle Joseph invades my mind, and I cradle my head in my hands.
No, not a dream. A fucking nightmare.
“Gentlemen, this morning we’ve convened under emergency circumstances. Uncle Joseph is dead,” Antonio announces, and a hush falls over the room. “Vincenzo ‘Vince’ Rossi is on trial for the unauthorized hit of made man and family oddsmaker Joseph ‘Uncle Joseph’ aka ‘The Wolf’ LaVecchia,” he announces solemnly. “Vince, do you wish to say something in your defense?”
Something in my defense? I have to defend myself against an indefensible Uncle Joseph?
I hop out of my chair, fueled by indignation. “I walked in on Uncle Joseph raping my eight-year old brother. He’d been sexually abusing Aldo for months.” Indignation nearly takes a backseat to guilt, but I shove down my failings, as I continue, “I’m not sorry I killed the pedophile, and if he were here, I’d kill him again,” I say with venom.
“Doesn’t sound contrite enough, if you ask me,” Sergio says.
“It wasn’t your son’s asshole that got ripped and needed three stitches,” I fire off to my capo. “No, I’m not contrite.”
“That’s enough,” Antonio warns, and I sit back down. “Capos, let’s take it to a vote of guilt. Yay or nay.”
Yay I die; nay I live.
“Yay,” Sergio says. “Horrible what happened to the kid, but Uncle Joseph was the biggest earner in my territory. I’m sorry Vince, but for me, it’s always about business.”
“Would it be about business if Matteo’s asshole was the one bleeding?” I pop off.
“Speak out of turn again, and you’ll lose your tongue,” Antonio warns me, and I clamp my jaw shut.
The capos go down the line, some nays, some yays. I’m sweating bullets because it’s tied, and the boss will be the tiebreaker.
Antonio tents his fingers, and it’s so quiet I can hear my own heart beating. “Romeo,” he calls, and his son walks to the front of the room to stand beside the boss. “What say you?”
My life is in the hands of a twelve-year old.
“Vince, you were number two in Uncle Joseph’s bookkeeping racket.” The youngest made man in the family’s history addresses me. “Can you be the oddsmaker?”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “I know the operation inside out. Even have some ideas about how to modernize things to make the family more money.”
“Such as?” Romeo asks.
“One, mandatory smartphones for all bookies and their clerks. Uncle Joseph didn’t have a cellphone. He acted like it was because he didn’t trust technology, but that’s bullshit; he didn’t want to be bothered on his personal time. That was a mistake, as bettors will spend more if they have easy access to their bookies. Two, I would expand live action beyond one sports bar. The social club would be a goldmine. Bingo’s a form of gambling; those old folks can easily transition to sports bets. Three, I’d hire more agents to bring in new bettors. And four, I’d reduce the credit interest rate by a percentage point.”
“Wouldn’t that lose the family money?” Romeo asks.
“No, because we’d have implemented steps one through three. With more action and a more enticing credit rate, I guarantee the bottom line will increase.”
Romeo turns to his father. “Let Vince run the books for three months. If he brings in at least as much as Uncle Joseph, he’s earned his place. If not, then he gets replaced. Permanently.”
“Yay,” Antonio declares, and I nearly jump for joy. “And what of Vince’s punishment for the unauthorized hit?” Antonio asks, and I realize my celebration is premature. “Men have beef, they need to take it to their capo, not take matters into their own hands,” Antonio tells his son.
“Vince should get a beatdown; a warning to the other soldiers there are always consequences for their actions.”
“So be it. Romeo, you’ll administer Vince’s beatdown,” Antonio orders his son, and Romeo nods. “This trial is concluded.”
The capos trickle out, and it’s just me and Romeo in the room. He walks over with a baseball bat, and I stand, ready to face the music.
“I would have done the same thing, and I’m an only child,” he quietly admits before taking the first swing, connecting with my ribcage.
“You’re right, boss. I wouldn’t be here today if not for you. And if you order me six feet under, I’ll know it was a fair decision.”
Romeo silently stares me down. It’s unnerving as fuck .
“Even if the boss considers this, what are you going to do? Go straight?” Sam snorts.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Vince, man, this is crazy talk.” Sam shakes his head.
“Imagine going to work every day, knowing you’re sitting behind the desk of the oddsmaker who raped your baby brother. Think you could fucking live with yourself? Because I can’t; not anymore!”
I storm out of the boss’s office, past Valentina balancing a tray.
“Wait, here’s your coffee,” she calls after me, but I don’t stop.
Nobody disrespects the boss like I just did. Romeo could’ve called me back and ended me for that infraction alone.
Could’ve. Would’ve. Should’ve.
My headstone inscription.