31. Damiano
No surprise I find Rob sitting in his private booth, his favorite Cat girl in his lap. She’s whispering in his ear, he’s whispering to her tits.
I drop down heavy into the booth. “No one knows a fucking thing about who clipped the Bianchi brothers.”
Rob looks over Megan’s bare shoulder at me. “How is that even possible?”
“No fucking clue.”
“Give us five, hon?” Rob leans back to give Megan room to climb off.
She grinds in one slow circle on his lap before climbing off and walking away, her hips swishing back and forth.
Rob’s eyes are glued to her ass while he speaks. “Someone knows something. Look harder.”
“I’ve interrogated every junkie, every degenerate gambler, and every Bagliateri dealer I can get my hands on. No one knows a fucking thing.”
Salvo slides into the booth on the other side of Rob, muttering, “I’d hardly call that an interrogation.”
Rob looks confused.
“Ignore him.” I flash Salvo a shut-the-fuck-up glare.
The two of them exchange looks in one of their weird fucking silent conversations. I’d roll my eyes if I wasn’t too busy glaring at Salvo.
Salvo is immune to my glares, though. “Dom. You didn’t even give that kid a chance to answer any of your questions. You said ‘talk’ and when he didn’t answer in the first two seconds, you beat him unconscious.”
“And?”
“And how could he tell you anything if he was knocked the fuck out?”
“He didn’t know anything.”
“And twice this week you’ve had to replace the garbage disposal in your floor drain. Twice.”
“And?”
“And the rest of us are looking for information, not looking for punching bags to get out our pent-up aggression.”
“I don’t have pent-up aggression. I have overt, very out in the open aggression. Aggression solely related to Roberto sitting in jail. That’s it. Now can you fuck off about my mental state?”
Rob tilts his head to the side a bit, looking at me, trying to see inside my head. But screw that. I turn fully toward him. “If you don’t think I’m up for this job, send me back to Rome. I’ll go. I’ll get on a plane tonight.”
They look at each other again. Rob is two seconds away from pitying me. I’m two seconds away from leaving.
Maybe I should go back to Rome. Pack up my plants, pack up my rabbit, get the fuck out of here.
“When was the last time you got your dick sucked?”
I look at Salvo like he’s got two heads. “Back when it was none of your fucking business. Oh, look.” I look down at my watch—my watch that Paige left on the counter when she walked out of my life. “It’s still none-of-your-fucking-business o’clock.”
“You need to relieve some stress.” Salvo looks around the room, then signals two of the girls standing by the bar. Of course he signals Mandee and Candy. Those two together can do things . Things that get stuck in a man’s head and play on repeat for weeks . Things that make a man stupid until their black magic wears off. If I wanted to get my mind off of something, those two are exactly the way to do it.
Mandee approaches, leading Candy by the hand behind her. Mandee is looking right at me, wicked smile on her face. Candy’s looking down at the floor, shy, subservient. Waiting to be told exactly what to do. It’s like they’re already slipping into their bedroom roles. Two months ago, I’d be hard as steel before they even reached the table.
But today, nothing. My rod barely even notices them, barely stirs to quarter mast.
I shake my head slightly, enough to stop Mandee while the girls are still two tables away. “I don’t want my dick sucked,” I say so only Rob and Salvo can hear. No reason to insult the girls. This has nothing to do with them.
“You need it, man. Rob, make him get his dick sucked.”
“He can’t order that.” I turn to Rob. “You can’t order that.”
Rob’s eyeing me hard, like he’s trying to decide if he can order that or not. “I need you on point, man. It’s been two fucking weeks, and we still don’t know dick about who’s setting up my dad.”
“You think I’m not on point?”
“I think you usually gather intel with surgical precision. You usually find out whatever the fuck I need to know before I even know I need to know it.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Yeah. But now? Right now? Right when there’s something I need to know more than anything I’ve ever needed to know before?” He looks me dead in the eyes, his nostrils flare slightly. “I need you back, man.”
I let out a long breath. Fuck. Letting him and Roberto down is the ultimate failure. “I know.”
“So. . .” He chin lifts toward the girls. Mandee’s whispering something in Candy’s ear, they’re both looking at me, smiling. Waiting. Ready to play.
I shake my head. “Naah, man. Too soon.”
“Fine.” Rob stands up. “Then let’s go up to the loft. If you’re not going to get all that frustration out with the girls, let’s get it out in the ring.”
There are three places Rob likes to be—at this booth with a girl in his lap, at his mom’s dinner table on Sunday nights, and in his boxing ring where he’s pretty much undefeated—and it’s not because any of us let him win. It’s because he’s got a jab that can make a grown man cry.
And honestly, right now? A couple of rounds in Rob’s boxing ring against the biggest motherfucker I know? Might be exactly the distraction I need.