Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Armando
Mother. Fucker.
My whole body’s ice cold as I get out of the Uber in front of my apartment building. Four squad cars and an ambulance block the road, lights flashing. Cops crawl all over the place. I hold my hands in the air as I approach.
“I’m Armando Rossi, the guy whose apartment was shot up,” I tell the first cop who spots me.
“All right.” He speaks into his comm unit. “I’ve got the victim down here.” He listens to the answer. “Yeah, I’ll bring him up.” He eyes me suspiciously. “You have any weapons on you?”
I keep my hands in the air. “No, sir.”
He pats me down to be sure then says, “Come with me.”
On my floor, I see Marco standing with an officer. His apartment is two flights up, next door to Leo’s. I hope to God their places weren’t involved in this shit too.
He lifts his chin at me. We pass the apartment manager, who points and snarls, “I want you out of this place by tomorrow. I never should’ve let a felon rent here.”
“He stays,” Marco’s firm but raised voice cuts across the low conversations going on, making everyone look.
I ignore them both. I’m dead again. I taste ash on my tongue. My movements are mechanical. I see in shades of dark grey. Everything closes around me like the metal bars of my cell back in Joliet. I could easily kill or be killed right now without a single emotion.
A police officer meets me at my door. “You Armando Rossi?”
“Yes, sir.”
He looks at the officer who brought me up. “Has he been patted down?”
“Yes, sir, he’s clean.”
“Can I see some ID?”
I produce my wallet and the ID card I got last week, since my license has been revoked. He pulls out a notepad and pencil and copies down my information. “Can you tell me what happened here?”
I shake my head. “No, sir. I was away.”
“What do you think happened?” he snaps, obviously irritated by me. He’s already made some judgement about me, and I’m sure it wasn’t generous.
“I think…” I look around at my apartment.
There are bullet holes in every wall. The glass in the artwork Marco had hung is shattered, covering the floors.
The flat screen is busted all to hell. A giant spider web of cracks run through the window that overlooks the street, but the glass hasn’t fallen in or out.
Yet.
Fluff from the sofa pushes from the upholstery. Marco already told me what he heard and saw, so it’s easy to picture it. Some guys busted in and fired hundreds of rounds from a semi-automatic weapon into my place. “I think someone wants me dead.”
“Who?”
I shake my head immediately. “No idea.”
He narrows his eyes. “Who would you guess?”
I shrug. “No idea.”
“Landlord said you’re just out of prison.”
I should say, yes, sir, but I’m suddenly done with the fucking conversation. I want everybody the hell out. I need to talk to Marco and Leo. So I stare the asshole down. It wasn’t technically a question, so I’m not going to deign to answer.
I clear my throat. “Can I look around?”
The cop narrows his eyes at me again. “You have anything worth stealing here?”
“No.” I drop the sir. Like I said, I’m done.
He tucks his notebook and pencil back in his pocket. “Yeah. Look around, let me know if anything’s missing.”
I head into the bedroom. It looks just as bad as the living room. Bullet holes in the doors, the headboard. Feathers from the pillows strewn about the room. They probably started here. When they realized I wasn’t home, they shot the place up anyway.
It’s a message. They’re coming for me.
This feels more like The Hermanos than the hit on Friday did.
I did stash some of that start-up cash the don gave me in the apartment, but I don’t want to check with the cops here.
I don’t need to explain where I got seven large—what’s left of the money after helping my ma and Hannah out.
Marco wouldn’t take any money for the deposit and rent he paid on this place nor for the furnishings he bought to fill it.
We stand around with our thumbs up our asses for another forty minutes before the boys in blue finally pack it up and leave. The landlord is still standing outside, waiting to confront me. Marco walks over to stand by my side.
“Listen,” he says, spreading his hands in a conciliatory fashion. “I just can’t have your type around here. My residents need to feel safe, and what happened tonight is going to kill my business.”
There’s a time I would’ve given shit back to him.
I’m pretty fucking alpha dog, and I don’t let anyone push me around.
But at this moment, I just can’t bring myself to give two fucks.
I don’t care if I stay in this apartment building or go.
It’s not like I’ve spent any time here to begin with since meeting Hannah.
I’m not even angry about what happened. There’s no sense of vengeance ringing through me. No desire for retribution.
I’m just fucking dead again.
And that’s really the only thing I find disturbing.
But then again, who gives a fuck? Because it’s sort of an out-of-body experience.
But Marco, he gives all the fucks right now.
He steps into the landlord’s personal space, not touching, but getting right in his grill.
“No, what would kill your business, friend, would be getting on the wrong side of the Pachino family. My cousin stays. I stay. My brother stays. And if you hassle any one of us again, I will fucking take this business down, along with you and everyone you care about.” Marco steps back. “Believe it, old man.”
The landlord believes it. He believes it so bad, his face turns white, and his goddamn teeth start chattering. And Leo, with impeccable timing, picks that moment to show up, his bulky mass adding to the threat.
“Now get out of our faces.”
The landlord bolts.
Marco and Leo wait until he’s gone before they push into my apartment.
Marco’s in his white undershirt and a pair of slacks, like he yanked them on when it happened.
Leo looks like he took more time to get dressed.
“Definitely the Hermanos,” Marco says. “I saw the fuckers running to a car on the street. They wore ski masks and carried semis. I heard a cop say they shot out the cameras out front and the glass door. Then they just rode the fucking elevator up here and shot up your place. Did you tell Don G?”
“Not yet.” I side-eye Leo because while he’s also like a brother to me, the fewer people who know my shit, the better.
He produces a gun from his back waistband and ammo from his pocket. “I know you’re not allowed to keep a gun but seems like you’d be safer with a piece on you at all times right now.”
Maybe my soul hasn’t completely shriveled because a thread of gratitude twirls through me. My family takes care of me. Through thick and thin.
I take the pistol and tuck it in the back waistband of my pants. “Yeah, thanks.”
“I’m worried about your ma,” Marco says. “If they didn’t find you here, you think they’d look at her place for you?”
I scrub a hand across my face. “I had the same thought. I’ll see if I can send her on a vacay.”
I stalk to the bedroom to look for my cash under the bathroom sink. It’s all still there. But I’m not surprised. This wasn’t a robbery.
They were out for blood, for sure. And after making as much noise as they did, they had to get the fuck out fast. Frankly, I’m surprised they risked it in an apartment building like this one.
I pull a duffle bag out of the closet and start throwing my clothes and shoes and toiletries in it.
Hannah’s apartment is still the safest place for me.
My instinct to stay there was dead on. But Marco’s right, my mom could be in danger.
And that thought does make me feel. I’d do anything for my mom.
Growing up, it was just the two of us, and I’d kill or die for her in a second.
“I’ll get my crew over here to clean shit up tomorrow,” Marco offers.
“Thanks.”
“What else can I do?”
“Nothing. I already owe you. I don’t like being so out of balance with you, man.” I give him one of those dude handshake hugs and thump him on the back.
He pulls back and meets my gaze. He’s got light green eyes the color of cash. Total lady killer. “You’d do it for me.” His expression is dead serious like he’s swearing a vow.
I realize then that he’s not just taking care of family.
And it’s not just pity. He feels guilty I got caught.
I took the fall, and he didn’t. Leo didn’t.
The rest of our crew that ran the car heist operation didn’t.
I just had the shit luck of getting pinched.
And it goes without saying, I kept my mouth glued shut.
I want to say something to let him off the hook.
Because it’s the same story—he would’ve done the same thing in my shoes.
Maybe he’s eaten up because of how far I fell.
I was at the top of my game then. I thought I was in love.
Engaged to a beautiful woman. Making money hand over fist. I’d gained recognition and respect within the organization.
I led my own crew—Marco and Leo worked for me.
I was poised to become a leader and move up through the ranks as the older generation retired.
And then my fence got pinched, and I showed up at his garage driving a brand-new, stolen Mercedes Benz at the wrong time. I got out and ran, but they cornered me, and it was done. All I could do was ride it out. Serve my sentence and restart.
Since words are no longer my thing, I choke on any sentiment and settle for a fist bump. I bump Leo, too. “You still have a key to my place, right?”
“Yeah, we got it. You wanna stay at my place tonight?” Marco asks.
“Nah. I got a place.” I pick up my duffel bag and head for the door.
Marco gives me a searching look but doesn’t ask where I’m sleeping. In our line of business, the less you know, the safer you are. I know Marco and Leo would never roll over on me, but I wouldn’t want them to be in the position of keeping secrets for me. They already keep enough.
“Lie low, then.”
“Yeah. I will. Thanks again.” I touch the pistol at my back and nod at Leo.
“Wait, no fucking way am I going to just let you walk out that door without some eyes. Especially if there is a girl in the picture now,” Leo says.
“I got it under control,” I say.
“Leo’s right,” Marco says. “At least let us put a man on guard. Back up just in case.”
I open my mouth to argue but then think of Hannah. Though I’m trying to lay low, there is a chance whoever wants me dead now knows about her. If not for me, then I should most certainly make sure there are always eyes on her. Nodding, I say, “Yeah, not a bad idea. I want Hannah safe.”
“So she has a name,” Leo says with a smirk.
I walk over to the disaster of a kitchen and find a notepad and pen in the drawer. I jot down the address to her apartment and to the Garden of Eden and hand it to Leo.
He looks at the address. “That florist next to Rocco’s?”
I nod again. “I’ll text you the info on her friend and staff person who works there as well. I’d like to make sure she’s kept safe during this. I don’t want her caught in the crossfire.”
Marco looks over Leo’s shoulder at the note, and adds, “Consider it done.”
“We’ll figure out who’s responsible and put an end to it. Guaranteed,” Leo promises.
My younger cousin became a man while I was away. I see a maturity in Leo that didn’t exist before I went to prison.
A million small things changed while I was away. The changes seem subtle, yet it’s enough to feel like an entirely different world.
Or maybe it’s just me who is entirely different.
And if I want to live to see next week, I’d better figure my shit out, fast.
What’s going on. What to do about it.
Who I can trust.
Who do I have to kill to stop the hits from coming my way.
And yet, it’s still hard to get interested in solving my problems.
The only thing that remotely interests me right now is Hannah. I want to be sleeping in her bed right now.
I’m a greedy bastard.
I know I should leave her alone. I should stay the fuck away from her, especially considering the danger I bring to anyone around me.
But I can’t.
She’s my lifeline.
The only road lit up is the one to her right now.
The only path I see to get home.