by Amy Rachiele
She considers this. “Does he know about my father?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then who does?”
“Up until a few days ago, my pop and my mom, your father and mother, obviously...and the fuckers who broke into your house.”
“You didn’t know?” she asks incredulously.
“Nope. I had no reason to know.” I push my eggs around on my plate.
“How did you find out?”
“Umm...I ran into him.”
“Ran into him?”
“Look, you don’t need to know how I know. I just know.” I ramble out.
Erin grins and starts laughing, “Its information I don’t need to know?”
“Now you’re catching on.” I say and I wink at her.
We eat in silence for a while. The waitress refills my coffee.
“Does Vito know?” Erin asks quietly, picking at her muffin.
“He hasn’t come out and said he knows, but, yes, he does.”
“Why hasn’t he said anything?”
“He’s smart and knows the rules.”
“Who makes up these rules, anyway?” she asks, disgusted.
“Life in the Mafia makes the rules,” I tell her. “And sometimes they’re hard finite lessons.”
We come through the door of the suite and the T.V. is on. Megan is on the couch watching the news. She smiles up at us.
“How was breakfast?” she asks.
“Insightful,” Erin deadpans.
Erin goes into her bedroom, and I immediately drop beside Megan on the couch. I reach for her and pull her close. I kiss her like I haven’t seen her in a week, not just a couple of hours.
“You okay,” I whisper.
“Better than okay,” she whispers back, and I kiss her again.
“I have to go out again today.”
“I figured,” she says, disappointed. I rub her cheek with my finger.
“I would much rather stay here with you,” I tell her.
“Antonio, what if we’re here a long time? Erin is missing a lot of school.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll have her read some books. The teachers will let her write some reports about them or something. Pop will take care of it.”
“I was thinking maybe we could sit in and observe some classes while we’re here. That would be a great experience for her.”
“For you too,” I say, and kiss her freckled nose. “Talk to Troy, find out when his classes are. Vito will go with you. I can’t do anything until I finish up this business for Pop.”
For the first time that his name has come out of my mouth, I don’t feel jealous. I’m okay with Troy. Last night was incredible, and I know Megan is mine. I kiss her, hard.
I murmur, “You are so beautiful. I want you again.”
Megan’s eyes flash with lust at my declaration and she says, “Me too.”
Chapter 8
Moola (moo-laa): money
Antonio:
Back on the highway, I drive towards Chicago. I didn’t even tell Vito that I was leaving the state to chase this fucker. It’s only about seventy miles from South Bend. Vito was right — this guy Allen isn’t in a bum-fuck town. He’s in the big city of Chicago. I could get messed up just for being here if anyone caught on to who I am. I am out of my territory.
You can chase runners into others territories, but the head boss is supposed to know about it. It avoids conflict and confusion...and loss of life.
Pop’s informant is a good one because it only took me two hours to track him down to a sleazy bar off the main drag. When I open the heavy wooden door, the smell of stale beer and body odor assaults me. Marrone! This place stinks.
The bar is dark with only a few scattered lights here and there. No windows and an entrance to a kitchen on the left. Two people sit at the bar. The bartender stands behind the counter. All eyes turn on me.
I tap out a cigarette from the pack I take from my jacket pocket and light up. I know it is Allen sitting on a bar stool. He is slouched over. He is facing me, but his glassy look makes me think he is seeing passed me.
I puff out some smoke and my adrenaline starts humming. My body is prepping itself to kick some ass. I crush out my cigarette on the dirty floor and approach him. His broken fingers are taped together haphazardly; his face is swollen from where I punched him yesterday.
“You got anything for me, Allen?” I say sinisterly.
“He ain’t got nothin’ for you,” the bartender answers.
“I’d like Allen to answer me,” I return.
“He’s so fucked up, he can barely talk,” the bartender says.
“That’s not good, Allen,” I say, approaching.
Allen’s glassy unfocused eyes struggle to find me through his long stringy brown hair. I reach out and yank him off the stool with one hand. He doesn’t even struggle.
“Hey, you Delisi’s kid?” the bartender asks.
I am taken aback by his question. I am still holding Allen up, my fists clenched in his filthy clothes. Nonna would have a fit if she saw this guy.
“No, I work for him,” I lie. What’s this guy’s angle? No one should know my name except the Boss. I hope Pop has done his due diligence. This could get ugly. The Chicago underground is three times the size of Palmetto’s.
I drag a limp Allen through the bar area to the kitchen. I kick the swinging door open and spot an outside door. I tug him through it out into an alley. The alley stinks worse than the bar. Holy Shit!
I toss him to the ground. I rifle through his pockets. I don’t find a thing, not even lint. Nothing.
“Okay, Allen. Where do you get the cash to get high?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. I kick him in the ribs. He moans.
“Hey! Allen! I asked you a question. Where do you get the money to get high?”
I circle him when he doesn’t answer. I tap his shoulder with my foot. He mumbles unintelligently.
“Allen. I’m asking one last time,” I say. “Where do you get the fuckin’ money?!” I yell it this time.
“No...money...” he slurs.
“What?” I ask.
“No...money...” he slurs again.
“Sorry, Allen, wrong answer,” I say, and I swoop down and grab his leg and twist it with a hard jerk. SNAP! “I’ll be back in forty-eight hours. You better have something for me.”
I leave him lying in the grubby alley. I light another cigarette as I make my way to the car. My phone vibrates. A text from Vito:
Why am I in a fucking college English class?!
I guess Megan convinced them to hang out with Troy in his classes. I smile at the thought.
*****
Megan:
The sights and sounds of the English seminar flow over me. This is so awesome. The room is a lecture hall with stadium seating. We are in the back by the door. Vito wouldn’t let us sit any further down. He said we had to be where he could see the door. Whatever! I am just happy to be there.
Erin is hanging on every word the professor says. The class is studying The Odyssey. I have read it before, but the points and inferences the class is discussing shocks me. I learned amazing things in just the short time we had been there.
Vito is playing a game on his phone, not caring at all about the discussion. The girl sitting in the row in front of us keeps turning around. She is trying to be nonchalant about watching Vito. He doesn’t even notice. Troy nudges me.
“More muscle than brain,” he says, gesturing to Vito.
“I heard that, chooch,” Vito whispers, never moving his eyes from his game. “Tonio is on his way back,” he adds.
My heart does a little fluttery thing at Vito’s words. Awesome! I can’t wait to tell him about our day.
The professor dismisses the class, and Vito jumps up ready to bolt. But he has to wait for us, obviously, so he’s getting antsy.
“Come on. I’m starving,” he says.
“There’s a great little sandwich shop on the main Gr
een,” a sweet voice says. It’s the girl that was sitting in front of us.
“Yeah,” Troy says. “Let’s go there. You can get Falafel.”
“Falafel? What the fuck is that?” Vito asks.
“It’s fried chick peas,” the girl answers.
“Hmmm, that sounds friggin’ appetizing,” Vito says sarcastically.
“Cool. It would be great to try something different,” I say.
Vito adds, “English class and Falafel...what a terrific day! Yipp-fuckin’-ee!”
“I’m Darla, by the way.” Darla sticks her hand out to shake with Vito.
“Hi,” he says disinterested, shaking her hand. Erin does a dramatic eye-roll, and we file out of the lecture hall towards the Green.
Troy, Erin, and I debate about the lecture on The Odyssey while Darla tries to keep a conversation going with Vito. He just isn’t interested. He throws out one word answers, and continues to play with his phone as he’s walking. Vito has a reputation as a player. This girl is attractive. What’s his problem? She’s a college girl, no less. I think that would be a pretty big score for him.
We sit at a table in the corner big enough to fit all of us. Darla joins us. The waitress comes over, and we all order a falafel wrap with fries except Vito. He orders a chicken sandwich.
I observe my sister, and she is slowly turning back into her old self. Thank God! Antonio is amazing. That talk with her this morning must have really helped.
Troy tells us about some of the crazy things that have happened to him in college. We laugh at his animated stories. Troy could always make me laugh, even Vito chuckles every once in a while.
“Should we bring a sandwich back for Antonio?” I suggest.
“Who’s Antonio?” Darla asks.
“He’s my boyfriend,” I answer, I sense Troy stiffening a little at my reply.
“Not that shit,” Vito says. “Get him something normal.”
“How about ham and cheese?” I ask.
“Yeah, that’s good,” he says.
The waitress comes over, and I order a to-go sandwich for Antonio. Darla is talking to Vito but now he is flat out ignoring her. He reaches in his wallet, pulls out a hundred dollar bill, and hands it to the waitress.
Darla’s eyes go wide.
“Take it all out of that,” he says.
“Dude,” Troy says. “I can pay for my own lunch.”
Vito puts up a hand. “I know you can. I jus’ wanna get out of here and take a nap.” He scrubs his hands down his face.
“What’s the matter?” Erin asks, cockily. “Didn’t sleep well last night?”
“As a matter-of-fact, no, I didn’t,” he replies. “This little redhead I was sleeping next to kept hogging the covers.”
I didn’t miss a beat. Vito was saying he slept in Erin’s room again. WHY?!
I give him a knowing stare, and the waitress puts a brown paper bag and Vito’s change on the table.
“Thank you. Come again.”
“Well. Sleep in your own bed then,” Erin retorts. “I’m going to the ladies room.”
“What was that about?” Troy asks.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Vito says.
“Megan?” Troy asks me.
“She’s been having some bad dreams,” I say.
“So? Why does Vito the bodyguard need to sleep in her bed?” Troy asks vehemently.
“Troy... She sleeps better when someone is with her.”
“Why don’t you sleep with her?” he asks.
“I am not having this conversation with you,” I say. “It’s truly none of your business.” His brother cheated on my sister. I don’t want anything getting back to Connor about Erin’s nightmares. Connor can wonder and wallow in self-pity for all I care.
Darla was listening to this conversation like she was watching a tennis match, back and forth.
“Oh... I get it. So you can screw Antonio!”
Troy’s words slap me in the face. But I don’t get a chance to even come back with a response because Vito’s face is mere inches from Troy’s face.
“Don’t. You. Ever. Make. It. Sound. Like. She’s. A. Whore. Again.” Anger and intensity radiate off Vito. His fists are clamped by his sides. In a very low voice, that would frighten Superman, he finishes, “Erin thrashes and kicks when she sleeps. Antonio doesn’t want Megan to get hurt. Got it asshole?” He pokes Troy in the chest.
Darla steps way back from us, way back. Erin is coming from the bathroom trying to figure out the scene. Vito’s hand goes behind Erin, and he gently guides us towards the exit leaving Troy and Darla standing with gaping expressions.
It was going so well with Troy. I thought we were overcoming this rivalry/jealousy thing. I step outside; the sun feels warm for October. I need to feel it. The warmth helps to cleanse the ickiness away. Troy’s hurtful words replay in my mind. I hope Vito doesn’t repeat them to Antonio.
“Come on,” Vito orders, and we walk back in silence to the suite.
Chapter 9
Gabroni (ga-bro-nee): dumbass
Megan:
Antonio comes through the door an hour or so later. The pang of truly missing him hits me. The day was so busy and filled with more drama. Vito had gone to lie down in his own room, and Erin and I were watching T.V.
“Hey, how’s the college girls?” he asks joking.
“Good,” I say getting up to greet him with a kiss.
“Where’s Vito?” he asks.
“Vito decided to lie down. Today took a lot out of him.”
Knock, knock...
Antonio swings around his hand immediately goes to the gun at his waist. He motions for me to move over. I do. Erin stays frozen on the couch.
He looks through the peephole. “It’s Troy. And that kid from last night,” he says. I bristle with anxiety. What are they doing here? Antonio puts the gun back and opens the door, checks the hallway, and allows them inside.
“What’s going on?” Antonio asks. He has no clue about what went on little while ago. If I could read Troy’s mind, he is worried whether or not Vito had talked to Antonio.
Troy looks around the room. “Where’s your sidekick?”
“Sleeping in the other room,” Antonio answers.
“I was wondering if I could speak to Megan...alone?” Troy asks.
“Sure,” Antonio says, right when I’m about ready to protest his vehement ‘No!’
Jake stands near the doorway. Antonio turns to him.
Jake puts his hands behind his back, grinning. “I’m just here to see how Erin’s doing after last night. See? I’ll keep my hands behind my back,” he says, joking.
Erin is blushing. Jake smiles at her. He walks towards the couch with his hands clasped behind his back. Erin giggles.
“Megan?” Troy’s voice is soft. “Can I talk to you?”
“Umm, sure. Let’s go in here,” I point and walk Troy into the unused living room in Antonio and Vito’s suite.
I stand there. I’m not going to be the one to say anything. He hurt me.
“Meg, I’m sorry,” Troy says sincerely. “That was way out of line. I don’t want anything to mess up our friendship. I keep screwing up and I’m sorry.”
“What’s goin’ on out there?” Vito calls out groggily.
“Nothing!” I yell back. I reach for his door and close it.
Troy continues, “...and I’m really sorry about Erin. My brother’s a dick. Erin is a great kid, and she didn’t deserve that.”
“Thanks Troy. I appreciate it. I don’t want to ruin our friendship either.”
“Jake’s sorry too, about last night. It was just messed up. Meg, he really is interested in Erin. Call off the hounds!” he says is a fake British accent. “He’s a nice guy.”
“He seems really nice.” I pause. “It would be great for her to make some new friends. Take her mind off things. Antonio voiced his opinion on Jake last night... He’s uncomfortable with Jake’s age, being in college, etcetera.” No need to rep
eat what Antonio said and how he said it. “She’s been through a lot. Being friends is fine, but I have to agree with him.”
“He’s not looking for marriage. He just wants to get to know her. Besides, Jake is a ‘young-un’, he’s seventeen.” Troy adds dismissing my apprehension. “He graduated a year early and is getting groomed for the football team. He’s good. I bet he makes second string quarterback in a couple of years.”
“Really? That’s awesome.”
“Are we good?” Troy asks. “I’ll work on not being an ass.” Troy gives me sad, puppy dog eyes.
I smile. “Yeah, we’re good.”
“Great, let me make it up to you. Jake and I want to take you all out to dinner and a movie. Ladies pick.”
“That’s nice, but let me check with everyone,” I say.
“Come on, Chewbacca paid for lunch. Let me do this.”
Vito’s door flies open, he’s got tired-but-hasn’t-slept written all over him. “Aw! Boohoo, you’re sorry. Wah wah... You’re lucky you apologized. Now let me fuckin’ sleep!”
“Don’t you have little furry people to save on a planet far, far, away?” Troy asks mockingly. Vito slams his door shut.
Troy yells to the closed door, “And you really need to work on your fake crying! I didn’t believe you for a second!”
Back in my suite, Jake and Erin are watching T.V. and talking. Antonio is on his phone in the corner. He hangs up when he sees us.
“Troy and Jake want to take us out tonight,” I announce.
“Oh yeah, where?” Antonio asks. Erin and Jake look over at me.
“Dinner and a movie.”
“It’s ladies pick because I’m an asshole,” Troy says with mirth.
“Well then, it will always be ladies pick, because you’ll always be an asshole,” Antonio quips back. He walks over to me and gives me a peck on the lips. “Whatever the girls want is fine with me.”
We meet Troy and Jake at a restaurant just outside South Bend. Italian food is out because I didn’t want Vito keeling over in horror over its less-than-authentic taste and presentation.