Chapter 2 #2
Donny sits next to me on the couch, taking up as much room as he can. I don’t want to scoot over, but I don’t want him touching me either. It’s a battle of wills.
“Well of course we’re under attack,” he fires back and points to Alana. “She started a war with the Deviant, destroyed all of the Majesty in the world, and put a giant-ass target on our backs.”
The Deviant is one of our known enemies.
A few months ago, he abducted our kids. Two of the five were Alana’s goddaughters, the other three were kids of family friends.
She was pissed, but it was one of those eerily quiet angers that means death is around the corner.
In two hours, she burned down all the fields the Deviant used to harvest Majesty—an addictive drug the Four Families refused to sell.
Alana also had all of his crew arrested and converted to her side.
Plus, she somehow got the US Chief of Staff to resign.
The message was loud across the crime world: Do not fuck with Alana.
Super fucking cool, but it did put the Four Families squarely in the spotlight.
“You were paid for your inconvenience,” she scoffs. “I used my money to upgrade the security at Mastodon. What did you use your money on?”
“My giant bulletproof hamster ball is on backorder, and we have to retrofit all the doors,” Donny grumbles.
“Why don’t you take the dog?” I suggest. “Clearly he’s a protector.” I point at him staring out the window, his ears up, alert and focused on something.
Donny crosses his arms and sinks into the couch, spreading his legs further into my spot.
“That dog hates me.” My cousin slaps me on the leg.
“You should take the dog. It’s not like you have anything else in your life.
” Ouch. “Besides, we’re all going to be dead in a few weeks anyway.
Why not spend your final days picking up shit? ”
Uncle Gio is about to sit in Nonna’s chair when Aunt Dawn drops back into it.
She shrinks down so her skull fits into the indent in the headrest. Her eyes light up and she claps as she hurries to the kitchen.
The cabinets and drawers creak open and closed.
“Found it!” Aunt Dawn comes back into the living room, triumphantly holding a key in front of her like it’s the damn holy grail.
Uncle Gio finally sits on the chair, mimicking the position my aunt took in it. “My love, what did you find?”
She stands in the room, the key in one hand and her cellphone in the other.
“Nonna kept copious notes on our enemies on an off-site secure server. This is the key to the storage locker that has the password and location of the server, plus any of the old papers she couldn’t digitize.
” The three of us hang our jaws open, only Alana seeming unfazed.
My aunt pauses and looks at me. “Nonna had secrets, and she spread those secrets around. No one person knew all her knowledge. She kept the dog from you for a reason. Probably this exact one—when she was gone, she didn’t want you to be alone. ”
Aunt Dawn taps on her phone, and a few seconds later, it buzzes.
After kicking Donny’s foot she orders, “drive your father home.” Then turns to her husband, “I’m taking the car.
” After petting Kingston’s head my aunt rushes to the door and calls, “Love you.” It’s implied she meant all of us but could be talking to the dog.
And Hurricane Dawn has passed through the area, leaving chaos and confusion in her wake.
Donny grabs one of the pillows on the couch and holds it to his chest. “So, we do nothing? No funeral? No church services? Not even a family dinner? It feels weird.”
Uncle Gio sucks in all the air from the room. “It’s vice night.”
Oh, right. When a family member dies, those in the immediate family get a vice night.
Donny smiles as he tries to narrow down his choices. “What are you guys going to do?”
“I haven’t put much thought into it, but the Uncles will have my back,” Uncle Gio says.
That’s the rule with vice night. You can give in to any of your deepest darkest indulgences, as long as you’re supervised, and nothing is life-altering.
“You’re taking Uri and Dimitri,” I say, pushing Donny back into his space with my knee. “They’ll keep you safe. I’ll ask Thiago to watch me.”
“I’ve got Izzy,” Alana says. “I can’t imagine her vice being anything too bad.”
Donny slowly moves his head side to side. “Mine are drugs and women. Hers is so much worse.” He shudders. “Karaoke.”
Alana wraps her arms around her body. “Dear God, what have I done?” That’s the thing about her. I can’t tell when she’s joking or not.
My cousin adds, “Maybe I’ll start off with the dog walker.”
“The fuck you will.” My gut reaction shocks me, and everyone else. I clear my throat. “If you’re making me keep the dog, then she’s my employee, and you have to keep your fingers and dick out of anyone I pay.”
I can’t figure out why I feel like this. I met her for thirty seconds. Not only is she a complete stranger, she’s not my type. At all. But the knee jerk reaction confuses me. As does the nagging feeling I know her, I just don’t know from where.
Now Alana, Uncle Gio, and Donny are having an eyebrow conversation. I swear novels could be written by their glances alone.
“Whatever,” I say. “It’s bad for business. It makes everything more complicated.”
Uncle Gio stands and motions to the door. “Come on. We’ll swing by the liquor store on the way home.”
Donny grasps my thigh and uses it to push himself off the couch. He’s such an annoying fucker.
The dog jumps down from the ledge to get pets from Uncle Gio but turns away from Donny. “Jerk-ass dog.”
They both linger in the hallway. There’s a finality to it. Donny runs his fingers over the dent in the wall where he and Izzy were fighting and crashed into it. Uncle Gio straightens a picture of Mary on the wall. Before it can get too emotional, Donny says, “Let’s go get shitfaced.”
The door closes, and it’s Alana and me once again.
Alana isn’t a part of the mob, or any specific criminal organization.
She holds her own power, fear, and respect.
And yes, she did destroy an entire drug supply in under two hours, but she also gave everyone ample warning.
No one took her seriously, and that was our mistake.
“Are you going to be okay?” Her voice is soft. I’m used to hearing it with a razor’s edge of danger laced along every word, and her sincerity throws me off.
I shrug, because my throat starts to tighten. “I don't know why she left me with a dog.”
“Your aunt is right. If the only secret she kept from you was the dog, she must’ve trusted you with all the other secrets.”
I’m familiar with notes about our enemies, and if Aunt Dawn had said she was looking for a key to the storage locker, I would have told her it was in the secret drawer in the kitchen cabinet.
But a dog is different. It’s alive. It requires care and responsibility.
Hell, they need yards, right? And she was always complaining about my penthouse in the city.
‘What home doesn’t have walls? Do you piss in the kitchen?’
I would explain I had walls, and a bedroom, but it was an open concept space. She didn’t want to hear it. Even when I brought her over, she frowned and said this wasn’t a home. It was a place to sleep.
And she was right.
My phone beeps, and it’s the alarm for Club Midnight. Angela, the manager, clocked in. The rest of the staff should be there soon.
“Hey, it’s karaoke night at one of my bars. I’ll get you and Izzy all set up with VIP shit.”
Alana smirks. She’s been doing that more lately—never a full smile, but less frowny than normal. “You think I would go anywhere and not get VIP?”
She stands and motions for me to come over. I don’t take orders from anyone, but I’ll take her suggestions. She wraps her arms around me. Damn, she’s a deadly menace to society and a good hugger.
“If you need anything, call.”
She smells nice, but she feels wrong in my arms. We would never work. Always trying to top one another, in every possible way.
“How long can I leave the dog alone for?”
“About eight hours or so. But Jenny takes care of the important stuff—taking him out, feeding him… You get all the fun and snuggles.”
I glare at the dog, his pointy ears twitching as he focuses on the world outside the window.
Alana pushes her hair back over her shoulder and checks her phone. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve got new client interviews, and there’s an award show security recon my guys are doing.” She slides her phone back into her pocket and pats my shoulder. “I’ll check in with you later.”
Kingston hops down and follows her to the door. “You take good care of him,” Alana says, but I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or the dog.
When the front door latches, the stillness of the house hits me.
No family, no chaos. I’m alone. My heart clenches, and a long-forgotten ache crawls over my whole body.
This feeling wraps around me like a wet blanket, cold and clinging to every surface it touches.
This was my home for over a decade, it’s the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere, and now it’s empty. No one lives here anymore.
Walking to my childhood sanctuary, I’m nearly knocked over by the twenty-pound furball who pushes past to beat me to the top of the stairs. He cocks his head to the side and his mouth hangs open. Is he smiling?
Once at the top, he trots away and pushes a door open with his nose. The one that conceals my childhood bedroom.
The dog takes a running leap onto my bed. “Get off.” But the dog huffs, digs a little on the blanket, and circles around until he finally lays down in the center of the bed. Jerk-ass dog leaves me with no space.
Nonna never changed my room. It still has the old posters hanging on the wall and the dinosaur of a computer on my desk.
Living in Nonna’s house meant I would never be hungry, that I would get slightly less criticism than the other kids, but never praise, and technology peaked before Y2K.
Still, she loved me. I was cared for. When I moved out, she didn’t talk to me for three days, but she finally caved when she sent Aunt Dawn over with baked ziti.
I sit on the edge of my bed, and the dog huffs a little when I invade his space. “It was my bed first.” But the dog doesn’t care.
My cellphone has one missed voicemail. Nonna’s name flashes on the screen. If I listen to it, it will be the last time I hear her voice. What if she made the call as the plane was going down? Do I want to hear her cries of terror?
But the timestamp is earlier than the explosion. My thumb moves of its own accord, and her voice fills the room. Kingston perks up when he hears her voice and then puts his head down.
“Nico, don’t forget to bring in the mail and water my plants.
The spider plant has been living in the kitchen for twenty-five years now.
Don’t be the reason it dies. I love you and I’ll call when I get settled.
” She pauses, but her voice catches with a hurried urgency.
“Oh, there’s a girl who comes by the house a few times a day.
She walks Kingston. Have you met him? There’s pictures all around the house, surely you had to know I have a dog.
Anyway, her name is Jenny and she’s a fucking delight. Don’t shoot her.”
Then the call ends.
I’ve got to keep her dog and her spider plant alive? Fucking hell. That’s too much responsibility for one man to handle.