33. ANTONIO
ANTONIO
E nzo, Michael, and I sat in Enzo’s bedroom, the tension in the air so thick it could be cut with a knife. I hadn’t been talking to them much. In fact, I’d been avoiding them like the plague. I’d been trapped in a nightmare—just a few hours of sleep, delivering papers at dawn, school, baseball practice, and then back to being a puppet for the cruelest gangster to ever walk the streets of Staten Island. He owned me. Fear kept me silent. I didn’t care what happened to me, but I cared about what happened to Ma—and that’s exactly what he used against me.
Ma had dropped me off with Enzo and Michael so she could go out with Angela. At least, that’s what she told me. I could only hope it was the truth. She’d become quite the liar. Then again, I suppose killing a man will do that to you.
Michael kept nervously fidgeting with a bottle cap from his empty Coke while Enzo’s eyes drilled into me. My body stiffened as I sat on the floor, my back rigid. Enzo broke the silence first. “What’s going on with you, Antonio? You’ve been acting strange for days now.”
I glanced at both of them—my so-called best friends. “Yeah, maybe that’s because I don’t want to be here. But hey, my mom thinks I need to be babysat by Val, so here I am,” I hissed.
Enzo raised an eyebrow. “Did we do something wrong?”
Michael glanced at me. “Yeah, what’s going on?”
I couldn’t hold it back anymore; the truth spilled like bitter poison. “Oh, I don’t know, Michael. Maybe it’s because I learned my two best friends are lying bastards.”
Enzo snapped. “What the hell are you talking about?” He sprang to his feet, his temper flaring like always.
I shifted my gaze to Michael. “Michael, when were you planning to tell me that your dad and grandfather are mobsters?”
The question hung in the air, and Michael’s face twisted in confusion. “What?” he choked out.
“When I asked if the mafia was real, you both acted like you didn’t know a damn thing about it! Lied straight to my face.” My voice grew louder, sharper. I stood up and faced him, my fists clenched at my sides. “You thought you could lie to my face like that and then think we could remain best friends? I had to dig myself because neither of you could be honest with me! So thanks a lot for that!”
The words echoed in my head even as I shouted them out loud. They never meant for it to go this far, but it was too late now. The damage had been done. My fate had been sealed.
“We don’t know anything, you asshole! No one in my family sits me down and says, ‘Yes, we’re in the mafia.’ Do I have suspicions? Sure. But I’ve got no proof, and I don’t want any part of it. Why do you think I work my ass off in school? Because I want as far away from this fucked up place as I can be!” Michael’s voice rang out. He never got angry. For the first time, I saw his nostrils flare, his face flush red with rage. And I felt bad for him. It made sense. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to be born into a family like this. He had two choices—become just like them or carve out a different path for himself. He was choosing the latter .
“You should have just told me the truth when I asked,” I shot back. “Because if you’d been honest, I wouldn’t have gone digging, looking for answers. Asking people around town if the mafia is real. And maybe Vincent wouldn’t have caught me on my paper route and pulled me into this shit.”
Michael’s face fell, the red now white, like all the blood had drained from him. “Wait, what? Are you saying you’re roped into some mafia shit now? Is that what you’re telling us?”
“Yeah, Michael, I am roped into some mafia shit! And I blame the two of you for it. Maybe it wouldn't have gotten this far if you’d just told me the truth.”
“That’s bullshit, Antonio! Don’t put this on us. You’re the most relentless fucking person I know, you would have never let this rest!” Michael’s voice made my ears ring.
Enzo raised his voice above ours, trying to maintain order. “The two of you need to chill the fuck out before Val hears and reports this back to our moms!”
“Maybe she needs to hear! Someone’s going to have to help him get out of the shit this idiot’s put himself in!” Michael roared.
I looked straight at Michael, jaw tight, nostrils flared, fist clenched. “Don't call granddaddy and your pops now, Michael! That ship has sailed! I’ve been blackmailed to do whatever Vincent says, or I’ll be the next one found in someone’s trunk.”
“Antonio, don’t be stupid. You can’t get involved in this type of shit. You don’t understand, there's no clean way to leave once you enter. This shit isn’t a game,” Enzo said. “Look at what happened to my pops!”
“Your pops was in the mafia?” I asked him, in shock.
“That doesn’t matter,” Enzo said. “You can’t get mixed up in this kind of shit.”
“It’s too late! I won’t let another person hurt my ma again! If I’ve got to do this to keep her safe, then I will. I promised myself that a long time ago,” I fumed .
Enzo let out a long sigh. “Well, I won’t let you do it alone.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“You’re my best friend. I’m not letting you do this alone.”
Enzo’s gaze locked onto Michael’s, not letting up. Michael tossed his head back with a deep, frustrated sigh.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! Did anyone listen when I said I wanted nothing to do with the mafia?” he snapped.
“Don’t be a dick, Michael. He’s our friend,” Enzo shot back.
“I may be a dick, but at least I know this is going to end badly,” Michael retorted.
“And you can live with that? Knowing it and still letting him take orders from Vincent alone?” Enzo challenged.
Michael groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when this shit goes south.”
I felt warmth flood over me—a little hope amidst the mess I was in—but it was faint. I wasn’t convinced that they could help, but at least I wasn’t alone.
Enzo slipped back into the bedroom, locking the door behind him. Michael and I stood by the windowsill, waiting for the all-clear.
“I told Val we were going to sleep, so we’re good. We sneak out, handle this, and get back before our moms are home,” he said.
Michael shot him a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised. “Bold plan. You sure Val’s not smarter than that?”
Enzo let out a laugh. “Please. You can’t think this is the first time I’ve snuck out of the house, Michael. And Val could care less what we do, she's too busy sucking face with Sal.”
The three of us snuck out of Enzo’s bedroom window. The adrenaline kicked in as we walked down the sidewalk to the park. I unlocked the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. Enzo’s voice cut through the quiet of the night. “Holy shit! This is your ride? And you don’t even have a driver’s license? Okay, I think I’d have said yes to Vincent, too. ”
“Shut up. This is no time for joking about serious shit like this,” Michael hissed.
Enzo just shrugged. “Maybe I wasn’t joking, Michael. And just for that, I call shotgun.”
Enzo nearly knocked Michael over in his rush to claim the passenger seat. Michael, dragging his feet, slid into the back and settled in the middle. He leaned forward, wedging himself between Enzo and me. “Do you even know how to drive this thing?” he asked me.
“Yes, Michael, I know how to drive this thing,” I mocked.
Enzo snorted next to me. “I know where they’re at,” he added with a sly grin.
“Yeah? And where would that be?” I asked, backing out slowly.
“Davidson’s,” he said, looking smug like he had all the answers to whatever questions I was about to ask.
“Davidson’s? What’re they doing at Davidson’s?” I asked. Davidson’s corner store was closed at this hour; I knew that much.
Enzo leaned back in his seat with a grin. “Davidson’s isn’t just a corner store, genius . My mom owns the place downstairs.”
My brow furrowed. “What place downstairs? Are you fucking with me right now?”
“She owns a speakeasy called The Wise Guy . It’s under Davidson’s. You have to know the right door,” he told me.
“This town just keeps getting weirder and weirder,” I muttered. “But wait, is your mom in on all this too?” Enzo’s smile faded, and he fidgeted around in the seat, which told me everything I needed to know.
We sat in the parked car across the street from Davidson’s, scoping the place out. The shadows made sure the car remained hidden from view, but even in the dark, the flickering glow from the store’s sign illuminated everything around us like some kind of strange reminder that nothing here would ever be simple. Enzo was right. Davidson’s turned into something more after hours. Which made me question Mr. Davidson’s involvement. I thought he was just a fragile old man, but now I questioned everything and everyone I thought I knew in this fucking place.
Enzo had gone quiet now, slurping soda from a glass bottle, while Michael leaned against the headrest, chewing and smacking on Tootsie Rolls. It was taking everything in me not to lose it at all from the slurping and smacking the two of them were doing.
Enzo leaned back against the seat, scanning the crowd milling about outside Davidsons. “It’s a lot busier than I expected.”
“Yeah, your mom’s got one hell of an operation going on here,” I said, glancing sideways at him. “How the hell do the cops not get involved in this?” Enzo looked away, fidgeting around again. He knew something, and I was going to pry it from him. “Don’t you dare keep any more secrets from me!”
“I think a lot of the cops are crooked, Antonio,” Enzo mumbled. My eyes bulged out of my fucking head at that small revelation.
“It’s true,” Michael said through his smacking. “Ben’s always at my place. What’s strange is it’s never when my pops is home.”
Enzo’s neck whipped around so hard I thought he would give himself whiplash. “Your ma is fucking a dirty cop!?”
“I prefer not to ask questions,” Michael mumbled.
“Yeah, that’s for sure,” I hissed.
The car fell silent again except for their relentless fucking slurping and smacking. I watched people come and go. Joey’s Ferrari was parked out front. I saw his fedora before I saw him. One hand holding the fedora, and the other wrapped around Ma like they were starring in their own private show. Only they weren’t, because I was sitting front row to my worst fucking nightmare.
“Holy shit, it’s Joey!” Enzo choked out through his slurping, jabbing a finger in his direction.
“And that’s your ma!” Michael chimed in, practically climbing over the seat to get a better look.
My stomach tightened. No way. No fucking way. I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes as Joey helped her into his car. The puzzle pieces clicking together in my mind in that very second, my mother disappeared into his passenger seat, and he nearly tripped trying to rush over to the driver's seat. Vincent had me spying on Joey to confirm what he already knew. Joey was seeing my mother while he was still dating his daughter. And I knew a guy like Vincent wouldn’t let that one go very easily.
“What now?” Enzo hissed, glancing at me nervously as we watched Joey back out of the parking lot.
I didn’t take my eyes off the car as it pulled into the street. I knew exactly where he was headed. I wasn’t a fucking idiot. “We follow him,” I said, already reaching for the keys in the ignition.
“Oh, yeah, fantastic plan,” Michael muttered, sinking back into the seat with an exaggerated sigh. “Because tailing a mobster always ends well. I fucking told you, Enzo, this would end bad! But no , nobody ever listened to Michael.”
Joey pulled into my carport like he fucking owned it.
I parked a few houses down from mine. I watched the two of them disappear through the front door from a distance, my stomach twisting into knots. Bile creeping up my throat. I might have been only thirteen, but I wasn’t clueless. I knew what it usually meant when a man and a woman were left alone like that.
“This feels wrong,” Enzo whispered, shifting uncomfortably in the seat .
“We need to tell my grandfather or my father,” Michael urged.
My jaw tightened, and I gripped the steering wheel hard enough that my knuckles turned white. My eyes stayed locked on the house, waiting for Joey to emerge. He didn’t.
The silence stretched until Michael finally spoke up again. “We can’t just sit here. If we wait too long, they might see us.”
“You’re right,” I said. “ We don’t do anything. I’ll figure this out. Alone .”
“Antonio—” Enzo started to plead.
“This isn’t your problem, Enzo,” I cut him off. “It’s mine.”
This was my problem. Mine alone. Between Joey and me. Man to man.
I had to protect Ma. She’d spent her whole life protecting me. I’ll never forget the look in my pops’ eyes when he came for me—cold, cruel, and full of rage. His hands reached out, and I could feel the chill before he touched me.
She’d pulled the trigger before I even registered what was happening. Her hand held my wrist so tightly, it left a bruise. I looked over my shoulder just as we stepped out of the front door and watched as he slumped to the floor, blood pooling beneath him. I looked at her then, really looked at her—the trembling in her hands as she gripped the steering wheel, the tears she didn’t bother to wipe away. She did that for me. She saved me because she loved me.
Now it was my turn.
I wasn’t going to let Joey pull her into his world. No matter how charming he played it or how much he “meant well.” She didn’t deserve to get tangled up in another man’s violence. If keeping her out of this meant playing nice with Joey, fine. If it meant being Vincent's errand boy for life, so be it. If it meant joining the damn mafia before I even had my driver’s license, I’d do it without hesitation. Whatever it took.
Because I owed her that much.