Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I turned around. “Are you telling me your word means nothing?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all, I’ve heard – ”
“That we tie everyone up, I know.” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair, which was the longest I’d had it in a while. “You have your daughter to thank for that. I may not give a shit about most people’s opinions about me, but I care about hers and she’d kill me if I tied you up.”
“Don’t talk about my daughter.”
“That’s never going to happen, by the way, if you ever involve Rosie or Santi in your shit again, it won’t end well for you.”
“You’re threatening me?”
“I’m telling you what’ll happen.”
“It sounds like a threat,” he said as I started walking away again.
“If it sounds like a threat, I’d take it as a fucking threat, Mr. Vega.” I looked over my shoulder.
The way his face paled gave me a sense of peace as I went into the back room. Maybe I should have tied and gagged him, but I trusted him when I was a kid and I’d trust him again now. I’d stated my piece. If he fucked up, it would be on him. Rocco was stepping back inside, wiping his hands on his black cargos.
“Fucking guy drooled on me.”
“You’re really gonna complain to me about drool? I had a guy shit on me once.”
“Fuck. I remember that.” He laughed as he took a seat. “I had a guy shit on me during combat training once. He’s a major now and everyone still calls him Turd.”
Of course, they did. The military had to be the only organization that used more nicknames than us. I sat back in my chair and looked around. The room was small but had three long folding tables full of cards and dominoes, with three envelopes lined up in a row. From the look of it, and assuming they were filled with ones and fives, there was probably three grand in each bag, give or take.
“All this for some pussy,” Rocco mused.
“Fuck you.”
“And it’s pussy you’re no longer even privy to.”
“Fuck. You.” I grit my teeth.
“It’s true though.” He set a leg up on the chair across from him. “You’ve become the guy you’ve been making fun of for four years.”
“What guy?” I took the safety off my gun and set it on the table, eyes on the TV with the camera feed of the front of the bodega.
“Tony. Loren. Gio. Fucking Vinny.”
“Fuck Vinny. I’m nothing like him.” I scowled.
“So you wouldn’t run away with Rosie if she asked you to? You wouldn’t pull a Vinny and go down to fucking Florida and start a new life with an alias?”
I thought about it. “If she asked me to, yeah.”
“See? Fucking pussy. It’s the devil’s work.”
“I’ve had pussy all my life. This is different.”
He shook his head. “You realize you can’t just leave, right? That’s not how it works. It is why Vinny pulled a Vinny.”
“I would imagine my brothers would understand if I wanted to walk away and not make me pull a Vinny.”
“Your brothers might. Giuseppe wouldn’t.”
I exhaled heavily. He was right. My father would rather kill me, his own son, than let me walk away from all of this, not that I wanted to. I wanted to be with Rosie more than I wanted anything else though. I just needed to find a happy medium.
“After we take care of these guys, I’m done with this kind of shit.”
“Done getting your hands dirty?”
I gave a nod.
“Jesus.” He shook his head. “All I know is I don’t want to drink the fucking Kool-Aid. I’m not even thirty yet.”
“Neither am I, asshole.” I laughed, but it died the moment I heard the sound of the chime signaling the front door opening. Anthony walked in the front of the bodega, black bag in his hand, ready to collect. I spared a glance at Rocco, setting my foot on the edge of the table in front of us. “Did you bring the boxes?”
“Yep. They only had Cherry Coke.” His lips twitched. “I hope twenty twelve-packs are enough for whatever you’re planning.”
I looked at Anthony, who was still talking to Santiago. If I had to guess, he was probably around one hundred and seventy pounds. I tilted my head side to side. I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to tape twenty packs of soda around his body, but we’d figure it out. We always did. His voice rose to a shout as he pointed at Santiago. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know it was another threat. Beside me, Rocco made a disapproving grunt as he kicked the chair out of the way and sat up straighter, still chewing his damn M&Ms. I knew what I’d find if I turned my face to look at him. He probably looked casual, like I did, but we felt anything but. There was a reason Lorenzo, Gio, and Dean liked it when we worked together. There was a dance to all of it, a spark of anger that linked us, fueled us. In the position we were in nowadays, we had dozens of foot soldiers who would love to do our dirty work for us, and we let them for the most part, but we’d both agreed that nothing earned people’s respect as much as leading by example.