36. ANTONIO
ANTONIO
I finished my paper route, the early spring air cool against my face. Half of it was swollen and bruised in ugly shades of purple and yellow. I ignored the dull ache as I rode up to Vincent’s place, dropping my bike at the curb.
The front door was cracked open slightly. But as I reached for the handle, a voice stopped me in my tracks.
A woman’s voice.
Not just any woman. Renee .
My jaw tightened. The last thing I wanted was to see her, not after what her son had done to me. I turned on my heel. But then I heard her say, “You should’ve done something about Joey the second he got out. He's insufferable, and I don’t know how long I can keep up this act. We are practically at each other’s throats.”
“You’ll stay until I have what I need. Joey will slip up—it’s only a matter of time. And when he does, I’ll take care of him.”
Renee huffed, but there was a pause before she spoke again. “He’s not going to feed me any information. He’s practically never home. Can’t you do something about the fact that he’s embarrassing me by flaunting Adriana in my face? ”
“The more he believes he’s untouchable, the sloppier he gets. And when that happens, I’ll have exactly what I need. Adriana is the best thing to happen. She doesn’t even know she’s going to be the reason he unravels. She’s making the job easier for me.”
My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. My hands were clammy as I turned away from the door, my pulse thrumming in my ears. Renee wasn’t just playing the part of Joey’s girlfriend—she was out for him, and he had no idea.
I backed away slowly, careful not to make a sound, but my chest felt tight. The second I reached my bike, fear overtook me. I jumped on, my hands shaking as I gripped the handlebars, and pedaled as fast as possible.
Joey needed to know. But telling him meant revealing that I had been listening. And if Vincent found out, I didn’t even want to think about what he’d do.
By the time I reached home, my mind was still racing. Every word Renee had said echoed in my head, twisting into something worse each time I replayed it. I felt like a ghost moving through the hallways that day at school. The usual noise of lockers slamming and kids shouting felt distant from everything I was going through.
“You look like hell,” Enzo said, nudging me in the ribs.
“Thanks,” I muttered, too tired to come up with a better response. “Really appreciate the concern, Enzo.”
“I’m serious, you need to rest,” he pressed, narrowing his eyes. “How much sleep are you even getting? Let me come help. I could drive for you.”
“I told you,” I said, shaking my head, “this is between Joey and me.”
“How’s that going for you, by the way?” Enzo asked, raising an eyebrow.
Before I could answer, Giovanni stormed toward me. “Hey, paperboy!” he shouted, loud enough to draw attention. I kept walking, hoping he’d lose interest. “Hey!” he barked, shoving me in the chest. My steps faltered, but I steadied myself. His glare pinned me in place as the hallway buzzed with whispers and stares. “If I say something, you answer me.”
“Not in the mood,” I muttered.
“You’re going to tell Mia you’re not taking her to the dance,” Giovanni demanded, stepping closer.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“She’s going with me,” he snarled. His breath hit my face as he leaned in, daring me to challenge him.
“She asked me,” I said. “I didn’t beg her or force her. She made her choice.”
“Well, now she’s un-choosing you,” Giovanni hissed. He stepped closer, but Enzo moved in as well. Giovanni scoffed and shoved him aside. “Back off, chihuahua.”
“She’s not your property, Giovanni,” I said. “She wants to go with me, and that’s what’s going to happen.”
“You’ve got balls, paperboy,” Giovanni said, his lips curling into a smirk. “Who do you think you are? Some big shot? You show up out of nowhere, steal Mia from me, buy your way onto the baseball team—and don’t even get me started on that mother of yours.”
My world narrowed. All I could hear was the dull roar of blood flooding my eardrums.
“What did you just say?” I asked.
“You heard me.” He grinned. “She’s many things, isn’t she? A whore, for starters. The only way she can put food on the table is by spreading her legs for Joey.”
The punch landed before I even realized I’d thrown it. Giovanni’s head snapped back, his body crumpling to the cold floor. He lay there, stunned, as the crowd around us fell silent.
Nobody talks about my mother. Not ever.