Chapter 16
Dean
A photocopier rattled and clicked to a steady rhythm somewhere nearby, and out in the corridor, a New Yorker in cuffs, accent thicker than mine, was voicing his opinions about his arrest as they led him to a holding cell.
There was a musty smell of coffee throughout the office, and a low hum of casual office chatter filled the room.
I sat in the plastic seats across from Mark’s office with my back to the window as an October wind howled against the glass.
And to my left, the eyes of two men bore into the side of my face.
Detectives Paul Crowley and Dante Riccardo. The former was a beer-bellied, arrogant mouth breather with a bobble-head of some old baseball player sitting on his desk.
Dante Riccardo looked new to the job, but not na?ve to the career. He was younger, maybe mid-thirties, and had a near-constant smirk on his face.
I ground my jaw as the watching continued, but kept my eyes forward.
It was the nicotine cravings making me like this. Simply the cravings—
“You know,” Crowley finally croaked after a few more seconds of studying the side of my face. “I think he was the kid who stole my police car.”
I pretended I didn’t hear him as I crossed my arms. My past run-ins with the cops were a blur of running through back streets or climbing walls. I was either too hungover too concussed, or too pissed off at the time to remember those moments as anything significant.
“Yeah, he was probably seventeen. Was in for car theft and took my keys right out from under my nose.” Crowley scoffed. “Came from a broken home too.”
Don’t react. I repeated the two words over and over in my mind, jaw tight as I exhaled.
“Careful,” Riccardo said with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “I think he hears you.”
“He can’t do anything now anyway. Look at where he is,” Crowley said.
From my peripheral I could see he had leaned forward in his seat to speak directly to me.
“Did daddy beat you around a little? Is that why you acted out? If he was my kid, it would’ve been straight to military school.”
“Maybe ease up a bit, Crowley,” Riccardo chuckled, talking sense.
“He can’t touch us, Riccardo. Wouldn’t dare try.” Crowley’s confidence in himself had begun a subtle roaring in my head. “I bet he got your mother too—”
I straightened in my seat and dragged my eyes to Crowley.
The nicotine gum hadn’t worked, the patches were pointless, I didn’t have any of my lollipops, and this fucker was giving me every reason to slam his head through a window.
But I was also surrounded by cops. One misstep and I would be in deeper shit than I already was.
“You wanna hit me, don’t you?” A smug little curve appeared on Crowley’s mouth.
“Nah.” I straightened out my legs and stood, keeping my eyes on Mark’s office door before I approached the detective’s desk.
Crowley’s smile wavered and faded once I stopped in front of him. He leaned back in his chair as if that would create more space between us. But he was cornered between his desk, Riccardo’s desk, and a wall. Nowhere to go.
“You’re not really worth my time, detective.” I casually picked up the bobblehead baseball figure on his desk, looked it over, and then put it down again. Only to pick up the stapler beside it. I turned it over in my hand, weighing it while Crowley and Riccardo watched me carefully.
“Go back to your seat, Moretto,” Riccardo drawled, clicking a pen.
I pinned Crowley with a glare. “But talk about my mother again, and I’ll staple your dick to the fuckin’ desk.”
There was a long pause of silence between us until Riccardo chuckled and shook his head. “Jesus Christ, Crowley.”
I put the stapler down and went back to my seat, leaving Crowley in silence before the two detectives went back to whatever work they had on their desks, no longer staring or running their mouths. I leaned back in my seat and let my head rest against the window behind me.
Seven minutes later, I walked into Mark’s office to discuss more of the same — weapon deals, money laundering, places where Antonio conducts his business, and who his clients are.
Hearing every detail leave my mouth, after years of keeping it all a secret, felt like I was having an out-of-body experience, watching myself slowly unravel everything I knew about loyalty.
I wondered if it was even considered loyalty. Maybe it was fear of the repercussions if I stepped out of line that kept my mouth shut for so long. And now all those details were flowing out of me like I had nothing to lose.
Well, not every detail. My father’s death was a topic I had locked down.
Mark put down his pen and closed his ever-growing folder of notes. “Lily’s chat with me the other day made me rethink the danger of all this a little more.”
“You only just realized how dangerous it is?” I lifted an eyebrow.
He didn’t respond to my sarcasm. Instead, he steepled his fingers as he stared me down. “How are your gun skills?”
I blinked. “Sorry, what?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself because I’ll start reconsidering the idea.”
“You—” I sat forward and rested my arms on the table. “You want me usin’ a gun?”
“I want you to brush up on any skills you may have. Assuming you have used one before?” He inhaled. “It’d be for you and Lily’s protection in case I can’t get to you in time if Antonio or his children find out what you’re doing for me.”
I couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth as I stared. “I think I’m havin’ an aneurysm.”
“You’d attend private supervised sessions at a shooting range with detectives Crowley and Riccardo.”
I huffed in disbelief. “No.”
“You work for a mob boss, but using a gun is against your morals?”
“Say I agree; I get the gun; I go to target practice with Tweedledee and Tweedledum out there; What’s stopping you from saying I was armed when you arrest me?”
“You won’t be framed. The gun is only for your protection.” He sighed and rubbed his temples. “The team has already called me crazy for suggesting this. Don’t make it harder… You can choose to tell Lily you have it or not.”
“This is fucked up,” I scoffed. “And you’re gonna just hand one over? Do you keep spares in lost and found?”
A smile appeared on the edges of his mouth. “You’ll get one from Antonio himself.”
I sat in complete silence on one of the couches in Lily and Kira’s living room as the sunset cast an orange glow across the room from behind Lily.
She was on the other couch, adjacent to me, with a book resting in her lap and her eyes on the floor as she processed what I told her.
The wheat bag she was holding to her stomach only added to the guilt I felt about making her feel more miserable.
Lily shifted on the spot. “This is a lot to think about… Why would Dad want you to have a gun when you’re part of the investigation? What’s stopping him from using that against you?”
“That’s what I said to him. But he said it’s for our protection.”
She scoffed, sliding her arms tighter around her middle. Her left hand came to a stop right above her scars as she looked at me with unease.
“Listen.” I moved to the coffee table, allowing myself to be directly in front of her as I ducked my head to keep our gaze locked. “If you don’t want one in the apartment, it’s fine. I’ll tell your dad you aren’t comfortable.”
“No… No, it’s okay. The lessons at the shooting range would be a waste of time otherwise. And the protection might be worth it with all things considered…” Her next question was asked carefully. “Have you ever had to use one before?”
“I haven’t shot anyone, if that’s what you mean,” I said gently, edging closer to her. As close as the edge of the coffee table allowed.
She only nodded. Her hands curled against her sides as she remained quiet.
“You okay?”
“It’s something you have to do. It’s not like I haven’t been around a gun before. I used to see Dad’s gun all the time growing up…” She tried for a smile, but the usual light in her eyes wasn’t there.
“If you get uncomfortable, tell me. Please.”
“I will.” When I challenged that with a slight lift of my brow, she unraveled her arms and took my hand in hers. “I promise. Now, can we talk about something else?”
I sighed and let myself relax a little. With my hand still in hers, my eyes went there instead as I smoothed my thumb along her delicate knuckles. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Well, you have your first fight at Castello di Vetro this Friday.”
“Ah-huh.”
“Are you nervous?”
I half smiled. “To be honest, I kinda forgot about it for a second. All this other shit has been a little distracting… Are you nervous?”
She huffed a laugh. “A little.”
My smile grew more sympathetic as I gently squeezed her hand. “It’s nothin’ new to me. I know what I’m doin’.”
She began to study my hands too. Her eyes lingered on the scars on my knuckles, where the word Game Over was etched into my skin. It was one of my older tattoos. The fine lines of each letter, paired with years of split knuckles and scarring, made it fade faster over time.
“I know you know what you’re doing, but the visuals from the last time you fought are still vivid. Like they’re burned into my memory…”
Last time, when I was drugged by my opponent Murphy, fighting for Antonio in the basement beneath The Den.
Murphy had switched the painkillers from Lily’s old medicine cabinet.
I could still see the horrified look on her face as she watched me get beaten to a bloody pulp.
The drugs, concussion, and deep-rooted habit of pushing people away to protect them caused me to make the dumbest decision of my life that night — breaking up with Lily.
I had been so caught up recently with mending the break I caused between us, I hadn’t considered how the fight itself affected Lily.
She witnessed something horrible happen to someone she cared about.
And I was about to do it again. Except this time she wouldn’t be watching, but wondering if I was coming home.
“I also think this is the longest I’ve seen you without bruises,” she continued softly as she traced her fingertips lightly across my forehead, brushing aside the strands of black hair hanging to my eyes.
I wouldn’t be able to stop the fights or back out. Promises were all I had.
“I’ll do my best not to get any bruises this time.” I caught her wrist as she lowered her hand again and pressed a kiss to the heel of her palm, smiling easily as I looked at her. “And then when I come home, you can inspect my entire body to make sure.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she blushed, unmasking a smile of her own.