“There are none,” he says.
I remember back in South Bend at a Notre Dame party, Vito played some weird drinking game with the college kids that involved fighting. That was much more playful than this.
Vito’s fist cocks back and he hits Carmino in the nose. He stumbles backwards, but he recovers quickly. Carmino flips his fists out and sends one flying into Vito’s jaw, then yanks on Vito’s outstretched arm, pulling him forward. Vito falls, but he gets his feet back under himself and spins around.
Each opponent gets some equally damaging shots in. This gets the crowd really going. I shrink back physically and mentally with each punch Vito receives. I want to be strong, but I hate seeing anyone get hurt. And it’s worse when it’s one of your friends.
After a few more jabs, Vito looks tired from pulverizing Jacko. He seems a little sluggish.
I flick my eyes around the room, and Baby Ticks has a greasy smile as he watches the fray. I feel like something is off. Not that I have anything to judge this whole night by, but still, something is nagging at me. Vito’s footing is not right. He usually stands with his legs farther apart. I remember from seeing him fight at that party. Vito shakes his head, as if he’s confused. Oh no, I think. Worry shoots through me.
The cheering doesn’t die down despite Vito’s apparent slow down. He has his back to us so I lift up on my toes and try to catch a glimpse of his face. He swings around the ring with Carmino. They’re wrestling, not really Vito’s style. Each person struggles to gain the upper hand.
Some guy with black slicked hair yells frantically. Others join in. I hear different things. “This is bullshit!” “Fixed!” “This sucks!”
Vito sways, and Ronnie leaves my side and runs to the ring. I see the top of Ty’s head moving towards the ring, too. Ty and Ronnie go into the ring. Vito shoves them away. Carmino strikes Ty. Ty deflects it and pins Carmino’s arms to his sides. Ronnie grabs Vito by the sides of his head and takes a good look into his eyes. Ronnie shakes his head, pissed. Vito pushes him away. I see Ronnie pull his phone out.
Everyone is shouting at this point. A circle of angry red faces forms around Baby. The leader of the mass of furious gamblers is screaming at Baby and is in his face. “Cheater!” Baby’s enforcers form a blockade, creating a cocoon to shield their leader.
I turn back to the bar, curious; Vito’s glass is still there. Immediately, I think someone has drugged him. Ziggy is with the crowd, watching.
I notice a man. His eyes are sunken in. Deep purple marks the flesh beneath his lower lashes. He is blatantly staring at me. Everyone else’s attention is on the fight or Baby, but this guy is watching me… like a dog waiting for his kibble.
I lunge for some stupid reason to grab the glass. The man gets up and knocks it out of my hand, and it shatters on the floor. What the hell? Warning bells go off in my head. So the next stupid thing I do is squeeze into the fray of angry men. Get away! My sole purpose is to get to Vito.
I’m so short that I easily slip through the bodies with only a couple of elbows and arm brushes. I think someone tried to pinch my butt, but only got two fingers full of my shirt. I work my way to Vito. I can see him through the limbs of irate people. He’s swaying and repeatedly shaking his head, attempting to clear it, I think.
“Ronnie!” I yell.
He turns and sees me. Ty sees me too because he reaches out to grab me and pull me towards them. The five of us are in the ring now. I stand on my tiptoes to look at Vito. I examine him, and his eyes are vacant. He shakes his head violently, and his face suddenly becomes vicious. I shrink back.
“Vito!” Ronnie shouts at him. “Come on man, shake it off!”
“Water!” Ty orders. A bottle is handed to him. It’s capped, but I’m not sure if it’s been opened. “Drink!” he commands. Vito takes it and chugs it down. Ronnie leads him out of the ring. I follow very worried. Everyone tampers down their agitation.
I come up to Vito’s side and wrap my arm around his waist. His body is damp and rock hard. I need to feel like I’m doing something. If he falls my way, he’ll crush me, but I take the risk. My heart is beating rapidly in fear for him.
Ronnie is talking to him in harsh tones, angrily. Someone did this on purpose. The only person I can think of is the owner, Baby. He wanted to see Vito go down.
We lean Vito against the wall near the entrance. He slides down and sits on the floor.
“Drink more,” Ronnie instructs.
Vito listens and swigs the rest of the water down, and then rubs his eyes with the bottom of his hands. When he pulls his hands away, his eyes are blood shot, but he at least seems more alert.
I hear people in the stairwell. Someone runs down the stairs towards us. Into the smoky light comes Antonio. Thank God!
He sees us. Uh oh! His face is murderous. It’s a step up from the Italian-Mafia-Death-Glare! I’m trying to gauge if he’s more enraged at seeing me here or at the situation of his best friend being drugged.
Antonio spins around to the crowd and bellows, “Baby!” There is a major shuffling of people. They move quickly and fearfully. “Where the fuck is Baby?!”
Ronnie stands up from his crouched position next to Vito and goes to Antonio’s side. They speak quietly. I can’t hear what they’re saying. It’s not anything good, of that I’m sure.
Across the room, in front of the bar, I see shards of glass glisten in the dirt and muck that makes up the floor. I scan the room for the guy I saw earlier, but I don’t see him. The room is dead quiet, eerily somber.
Everyone stares at Antonio, waiting. I want to tell Antonio what I think happened, but I feel like I can’t. It’s the wrong time. Part of me wants to raise my hand like I’m in school, like an idiot. Excuse me - I think someone drugged his beer. Oh, and a crazy guy with purple bags under his eyes practically attacked me. Might have been him. FYI.
I turn back to Vito. His faculties are coming back. He tries to stand, and I help him.
“Everybody get the fuck out of here! Except Baby!”
The crowd rushes for the stairs. No one even stops to question Antonio. These tough Mafioso are reduced to children being scolded. Carmino passes by us, and Vito reaches his hand out to stop him.
“Next time, Dude,” Vito says.
Carmino nods. Obviously there are no hard feelings, and Vito wanted him to know that. The guy probably thought he’d get whacked if we believed he drugged Vito. Would my dad be called to take care of him? I think, idly.
Vito quickly regains his senses now. He looks down at me and brushes his hand along my face, checking me out. The way he’s looking at me is unexpected. Warm concern has washed over his face.
“You better?” Antonio asks Vito. He nods.
The last few people scurry up the stairs and out. Everyone is gone, even Baby’s enforcers and Ziggy. Alone in the cavernous room, sitting behind his crates, is Baby.
“Take her out of here, Ronnie,” Antonio orders.
I open my mouth to speak, but Antonio’s mien says don’t say a fucking word. I hear it in my head as though he actually said it.
Ronnie approaches me and subtly does his patented air quotes. Uh oh!
Chapter 11
Vito
Holy fucking shit! My head is so foggy. I can’t believe someone would do this to me. I rub my eyes for the millionth time to shake this shit off. I can’t believe I got taken. I didn’t follow my own damn rules. Something could have happened to Erin, and I wouldn’t even have known about it.
Antonio steps across the room, closer to Baby.
“Pop hasn’t been happy lately, Baby. Now this shit. Are you running something we don’t know about?”
“I didn’t do it,” he says, nervously.
“Do I look fucking stunad to you, Baby?”
Tonio puts his hand on the gun in the front of his jeans. “You’re the only one who had something to gain by putting Vito down.”
“I didn’t.”
“You know how Pop feels about drugs.”
I’m getting impatient. I take two steps forward and grab Baby by the throat.
“If you didn’t do it, then who did?” I spit at him.
“I don’t know, Vito. I swear.”
I see his arm move and reach into his crate. I kick it over. A thirty-eight magnum and a shit load of money scatter across the floor, mixed with splinters of wood. I pin him to the ground as Antonio trains his glock right at Baby’s forehead.
“The drugs aren’t mine. I swear,” he squeals like a pig, his stogie falling out of his mouth and landing in a pile of dust. “Not mine! I don’t do that shit!” I feel his heart race under my fist that is wrapped in his shirt.
“Then, you’re still implying that someone gave YOU the drugs,” Tonio says smoothly. I clench Baby tighter, lift him a few inches off the floor, and slam him back down. An oaf escapes his grimy mouth.
“This guy… he gave me three G’s.”
“What fuckin’ guy?” I bark.
“Some sleazy chooch. He gave me three G’s to slip you some juice. I don’t fuckin’ know why.”
“To make him throw the fight?!” Tonio yells.
“Naw… I don’t think so… I didn’t fuckin’ ask.” He rushes out between heavy breaths.
Tonio and I look at each other. Who the fuck would do that? If someone wanted to take me out, why not just fuckin’ shoot me?
“Get him up,” Tonio says. I stand Baby up. Tonio grabs the magnum and puts it in his jeans and continues to train his gun on Baby. “Pick up the money. You owe Vito three grand.” Baby’s eyes widen.
“But I got no bets tonight.”
“Now!”
Baby settles to picking up bills off the floor. He counts out three thousand and hands it to me. I lean down, swipe it, and shove it in my pocket. “You’re closed.” Antonio says. “Three weeks.”
“Three!” Baby squeaks.
“If that guy comes around again or you see him, contact me immediately. Got it?!”
Baby nods woefully.
“I’m very disappointed in your loyalty, Baby. This isn’t over,” Tonio remarks, and we leave.
*****
“What the fuck was that all about?” Tonio asks me.
“I have no idea.”
“And what the hell is Erin doing here?” he asks.
“She wanted me to pick her up. Ronnie was going to take her to the movies, but she’s relentless. She wanted to come here.”
“That was stupid. Of all the places to take her.”
I nod because he’s right. I have no fucking excuse.
Tonio’s Camaro is parked right at the doorway. Erin jumps out and rushes over to hug me.
“Are you okay?”
“Hey, what about me?” Tonio jokes. She hugs him too.
Megan and Ronnie are standing by the car.
“What happened?” Erin asks.
No one answers.
Erin
I ride home with Antonio and Megan. I wanted to have Vito take me home, but it made more sense to ride with Megan.
“What were you doing at the fights?” my sister asks me.
“I didn’t want to spend the evening with Connor, so I asked Vito to pick me up.”
“He should have never taken you there. It’s very dangerous. It’s no place for you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Talk like this angers me. I know I’ve had some rough patches, but they can’t lock me in a glass house and not expect me to break it. Antonio doesn’t answer me. I drop the subject, for now. It’s late, everyone is tired, and my head is spinning from the whole ordeal.
Our parents are asleep. The house is quiet. Megan and I head to our bedrooms. I shut my door and pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor. Tonight sucked the life out of me. I tug on Vito’s oversized t-shirt that I found in my luggage when we left the casino. It is the most comfortable thing I have. I snuggle into it and pull the covers back on my mattress, ready to get some well-deserved sleep. If I can fall asleep.
Two buzzes come from my phone. I threw it on the bed when I came in and now it’s lost between the blankets. I rummage around to find it. It’s Vito.
Vito: U okay?
Me: Yeah. Just another day in the hood, right? LOL
Vito: I suppose so.
Me: R U okay?
Vito: Of course.
Me: Feeling any more effects?
Vito: No. I guess it takes a lot more to put me down.
Me: Very true.
I don’t want the conversation to be over, but I can’t think of what else to say. I ponder possible options, and then decide on a classic ‘thank you.’
Me: Thanks for an eventful evening. Regardless of what happened, it was still better than eating dinner with Connor. ;)
No text back. Long seconds go by and he doesn’t reply. I’m nervous, but I’m not sure why. I send along another text.
Me: Night.
I lay the phone down beside me. After a few seconds, to my relief, it buzzes.
Vito: Night.
I lay down on my bed. My heart is beating pretty quickly. I reach over to plug in my phone and turn off my bedside light. The darkness is thick and heavy and my eyes are wide open, as usual. My mind runs through everything. Arguing with Vito, watching him fight. The images are bright and vibrant. Even when I close my eyes, they flash clearly under my eyelids. I toss this way and that, trying to get comfortable, and finally settle on one of my tricks to fall asleep - Vito hurtling fences.
One. Vito hurtles the fence.
Two. Vito hurtles the fence.
Three. Vito hurtles the fence.
My body gives way to relaxation, and I slip away to sleep.
*****
In the morning, I find my mother washing dishes at the sink and my father reading the paper. I wonder if he reads the obituaries?
“Good morning,” I say.
“Morning,” Dad mumbles.
The dishes clash and clang. Mom opens cabinet doors quickly and slams them shut. She’s in a snit this morning. I roll my eyes, listening to the racket she’s making.
I reach into the refrigerator for the orange juice. I avoid my mother as I grab a glass. I fill it and sit at the table with my dad.
“Clarissa and Joey want me to come and visit. I’d like to go to California for Thanksgiving break.”
My father’s eyes look up at me from the paper. “Kay,” he says, without any questions or ceremony. My mother slams the dishwasher door.
“I’ll need a ticket,” I add.
My father nods, but my mother can’t hold it in anymore.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks, acerbically.
“I’m going to visit my friends at the school I left to come back here.”
Megan comes into the kitchen. Her red hair is fluffy and ratty from sleeping.
“What’s going on?” she says through a yawn. “It sounds like a thunderstorm down here.”
“You just got back. You should be spending the holidays with your family,” my mother says through gritted teeth.
“Where’re you going?” Megan asks. She’s really tired. Her feet drag as she approaches the counter and the bottle of orange juice.
“Back to California to visit.”
“Good idea.”
My mother storms out of the room.
“She’ll get over it,” my father says, not taking his eyes off his newspaper.
“I’m going back to bed,” Megan says as she shuffles away. I don’t blame her - we got in late last night.
I follow her upstairs and head to my room too. I could never go back to sleep. I’m lucky when I get to sleep through the night, never mind slipping back into sleep after I’ve woken up in the morning.
Vito is on my mind. I didn’t want to leave him last night. He’s always so in control. Seeing him out of it, like the day I went to his apartment, is unsettling. Immediately, I wonder if he’s okay this morning. He
seemed good last night when we parted, and he did text me.
I decide to pull out my homework. Getting it down now means not having to rush through it on Sunday. I make my bed and spread my science book and folder out on the blanket. I grab a freshly sharpened pencil and get comfortable.
Page 174-218 answer all questions in margins, I read in my planner. I flip my book open, but my heart isn’t in it. My mind is preoccupied with pictures of Vito… smiling, laughing, and tickling me.
He doesn’t smile much. It is a rarity to see him smile. He’s bossy too. He orders me around. When we were in South Bend, he was like a shadow I couldn’t get away from. He was protecting me, though, taking care of me. He did a ton of selfless things; shielding me from the burning metal of the car, trying to get me to eat when I was too depressed to even look at food. He even sat by my side night after night through all of my nightmares. And my entire kick-ass wardrobe is because of him.
I slam my book closed and flop back on to my bed, confused. There shouldn’t be anything to be perplexed about because he’s a great friend and I’m lucky to have him.
My phone sits on my side table exactly where I left it last night, plugged in to charge. I stare at it.
Maybe…
Chapter 12
Vito
Saturday morning I try to sleep in, but after last night I just can’t. I can hear Ronnie snoring down the hallway. I get up and put on a pot of coffee. My stomach is off after having drugs in my system. I’m pissed! Shit like that doesn’t happen to me.
I pop a piece of Italian bread into the toaster. I click on the television and flip to the news. I don’t have anything going on today for a change. The toast pops and my phone dings with a text. It’s Erin. My heart jumps and speeds up.
Erin: How did you sleep?
Me: Good.
I lie.
Me: You?
Erin: Pretty good. I’m going to Cali for Thanksgiving break.
A pang hurtles through me. The word shit! hovers in my brain.
Me: To stay?
Erin: No. Visit.
Me: Cool.
Erin: U have any plans today?
Me: Nope.
Mobster's Angel (Mobster Series) Page 10