Mobster's Angel (Mobster Series) (9 page)

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I toss at him.

“Huh? Tell you what?”

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ tell me she was coming back?” I spit.

“Who the fuck are you talking about?” Antonio spits back, aggravated.

“The kid.”

“What kid?”

“Yo
u know what kid, Megan’s sister!” I say, like Antonio is a fucking dummy.

“Oh, that. Yeah. She decided to do some fancy new program that the scho
ol is running. High school kids in college or some shit like that.”

I turn away from him. I’m angry. It was such a shock to see her.

“What didn’t you tell me?” I ask softly, trying to keep my cool.

“I don’t know. Shit happens. I didn’t think to tell you. I
’ve got a lot going on with Pop, Megan, and just... shit. What’s the problem?”

“Nothin’.”

“Well. It doesn’t sound like nothin’!” Antonio raises his voice and then pauses, thinking. “I’ve asked you this before, and you told me no. I’m gonna ask you again and you better be fuckin’ honest with me. Do you have a thing for Erin?!”

I turn to him. I can’t speak
, but my face must say it all because he punches me in the jaw.

Thwack!

The sting reverberates in my head, and I rub the side of my face.

“She is fuckin’ fifteen
! You’re eighteen! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Antonio shouts through clenched teeth.

Feet quickly
pad down the stairs.

“Tonio! What is goin’ on?” It’s Antonio’s mother, Diane. “It sounded like you hi
t something. It better not have been my wall!”

She enters the room and sees us facing off. I have no intention of retaliating. I deserve whatever he chucks at me.

“Did you just hit Vito?!” she yells. She looks back and forth between us, sizing up the situation. Antonio and I are staring each other down. “What is the matter with you!?” She waits, but we don’t move or speak. Diane folds her arms. “One of you better start talking. Now!”

“Vito lied to me. And he’s a sick bastard,” Antonio tells her, never taking his eyes off me.

Whoa, harsh - but true.

“Tonio explain that, right now!”

“He told me he didn’t like Erin.”

Diane looks at me. “Vito,
she’s a nice little girl. What’s the problem with her?”

“No, Ma. You don’t get it, the key word is little. He’s in love with her or some
crazy-ass shit like that. She’s only fifteen!”

Realization dawns on Diane, but she is clearly not disgusted like Tonio. She thinks for a minute. The hostility coming from
Antonio is palpable. She’s definitely trying to find a way to diffuse the situation.

“Your father is five years older than me,” she says
, calmly. “Girls are more mature than boys. Megan’s very mature. I’m sure that Erin is very mature for her age.”

“She’s not,” Tonio says.

I leap to her defense. “She is,” I grind out.

“No! She
’s not! Look how she’s handled things! She’s immature and...” I know what he is going to say. I’m fuming.

“Don’t stop!” I yell. “And what?!”

Tonio still doesn’t finish his sentence.

“You were going to say weak, weren’t you!” I bark.

“Enough!” Diane yells and the palms of her hands fly out between us. “Tonio, you feel particularly protective because she is Megan’s sister. Now. If Vito were twenty-three, and Erin twenty, you would feel differently.”

“No. I wouldn’t. She can’t handle this life,” he says
, deadly serious.

“That
’s not your choice to make.” Diane is trying to reason with Tonio, but he’s right, and he’s not telling me things I didn’t already know. She’s too young and this is not the life for her, but those things don’t change how I feel.

“Vito, have you spoken to Erin? Have you told her how you feel?”

“Ma, this isn’t fuckin’ Dr. Phil. She’s too young!” Tonio shouts.

“Watch your mouth,” Diane says menacingly. “Tonio, the bottom line is that it is between Vito and Erin. And no wonder he
lied to you! Look at how you’re acting! The O’Neill’s are the ones to handle this, not you,” she says, waving her finger in his face and laying down the law. We drop it; the whole messed up subject.

I
’m relieved that Tonio finally knows, but I still feel like shit.

*****

After things die down, Diane clocks us both on the back of the head with her open palm and sends us out the door. Antonio’s mother is one tough chick. She grew up in the mob life like Alessandra, our friend. Most women that have married into the mob or grew up in it have a certain air about them. It’s a mixture of softness and kindness combined with a
don’t fuck with me
demeanor.

It makes sense now
. Megan’s father is the cleaner, a position in the mob that is meant to be kept secret because it keeps the faction members in line, and Mrs. O’Neill has that Mob wife exterior in an Irish manner. I just never noticed.

We pop into Tonio’s red
Camaro and sail down the parkway to the other side of town. Tonio is enforcing for his Pop and needs to collect. He wants me to start coming with him. In the future, I’ll be Tonio’s head-enforcer, like Donny,
the knife
, is Tonio’s Pop’s. I turned eighteen so I am required to take on more shit, which is fine by me. Tonio and I have been taking care of business since well before adulthood, anyway. There are unwritten guidelines and rules in the Mafia, and nobody questions them - we just follow them. Besides, you can’t help it - shit happens. Other factions or Mob families start shit, and then we have to deal with. We need to protect ourselves.
It’s kill or be killed.

We take a sharp left onto Dexter
Street. Under the eaves of an old department store that has been closed for at least ten years, four guys stand on the sidewalk, talking leisurely. All of them are in jeans and some type of hoodie stitched with the latest popular emblem. The guy with his hood tucked neatly over his head takes off as soon as he sees Tonio’s car.

“We got a runner!” Tonio shouts, pressing down on the gas pedal. The guy’s feet slam
against the pavement as he sprints away. The motor of the car roars against the wind as we pick up speed.

The runner dashes between buildings and we screech to a halt. I
’m out of the car before it completely stops. My adrenaline kicks up, fueling me. I run after him. He goes right. I’m almost on him. He knocks a metal trash can into my path. I hurtle it easily. He takes a quick left. I reach out to tag him. He evades me for a second and attempts to scramble through a cellar window. I get his feet and drag his ass out, scraping him across the ground. Tonio comes flying around the corner and without ceremony kicks the guy in the kidney. The dude lies there, crumpled on the cement.

“I. Hate. Fuc
king. Runners.” he spits at the guy in a tone reserved only for deadbeats. I drag the guy to a standing position by the scruff of his sweatshirt.

“I don’t have it!” he wails
. His fear pervades the air. It lands on my tongue, pure and raw.

“I guessed as much, Dennis,” Tonio says, circling him. This guy is really just a kid like us. He can’t be more than twenty. I
have no clue what he has gotten himself into, but I don’t really need to know at this point.

Quick and abruptly, Tonio grabs Dennis’s pinky and snaps it back
, breaking it.

“Owwww! Holy Shit!!!” Dennis screams.

“Are you listening?” Tonio questions, snidely. Small tears leak out the sides of the guy’s eyes.

He nods in understanding
. His eyes are wide with terror.
Why borrow if you can’t pay it? 
The question always pops in my head when we’re doing this shit.

“Three thousand,” Antonio waves thre
e fingers in front of Dennis. “Count my fingers. 1... 2... 3... by next week.” Tonio grabs the guy’s face with one hand and squeezes it hard. He closes the gap between them. “Three thousand by next week or I’ll break your leg. Do you understand? Follow the rules Dennis. No running.” Tonio slaps his cheek and the smack echoes. Fast like last time, Tonio grabs Dennis’s ring finger on the same hand and snaps it like a twig.

“Fuck!” Dennis shrieks. I let go and the guy falls into a heap
, cradling his fingers. Tonio and I walk away, leaving Dennis moaning on the ground.

“I don’t get why they bor
row when they can’t pay it back,” Tonio huffs, taking the thought right out of my head. “They fuckin’ know what’s going to happen.”

“He’s young,” I say.

“Yeah, and stupid.”

Tonio is right.

What the hell did this guy need the money for anyway?

In class the next day, Ronnie and Vito are already there, sitting in the chairs around the one I sat in yesterday.  The mischievous grin on Ronnie’s face makes him look like the cat that swallowed the canary.

“Good morning Miss O’Neill, pleasure to see you again.  We’ve
saved a seat for you right here,” he says in a mocking proper tone.

Vito kicks his chair.  “Don’t be an ass.”

I laugh and sit down.

“Did you complete your assignment last evening?” Ronnie asks, keeping up the charade.

“Of course,” I say, leaning in close.  “Did you?”

“I plan on being a stellar student,” Ronnie says.  “Why do you think I’m sitting right next to you?”

“Umm. Ronnie.  It’s kind of hard to cheat in a Composition class.  It’s writing assignments, not multiple choice.”

I feel Vito lean forward and gently tug
my hair.  I turn to him.  He holds a lock between his fingers and waves it slightly. An unexpected shiver runs through me.  I know that he is referring to the color.

“I needed a change,” I tell him.  He drops my hair and sits back.

“Is your study group meeting today?” Vito asks, surprising me.

“Yeah.  Right after Composition. Why?” I ask.

“Ronnie and I need a little extra study time. Right Ron?”

“Oh yeah, we need loads. You have two new members,” Ronnie says proudly.

“Huh?” I ask.

“We’re coming too.”

I turn in my seat to Vito.  His face is unreadable.  “You’re coming to the study group?” I ask in disbelief, originally thinking they were joking.

“Yup.”

Okay…

As it draws closer to class time, more students filter in
and fill up the seats.  Kirk arrives and stops cold when he sees Ronnie beside me and Vito behind me.  I attempt to relieve the obvious anxiety on his face by waving him over to the chair on the other side of me.

“Kirk, right here,” I say.

He slips into the seat warily.  Faintly, I think I hear Vito growl from behind me.  I turn around and his face is radiating annoyance.

“Problem?” I ask.

He shakes his head no.

Ronnie pipes right up.  “Hey,
dude from Erin’s study group.” 

Kirk
eyes Ronnie suspiciously.

“Ronnie, Vito, this is Kirk.”  I introduce everyone.

Kirk acknowledges them without opening his mouth. Vito glares. Ronnie does a little wave. We sit for a moment quietly, awkwardly.

Ronnie snatches my notebook off my desk and flips through it.

“Hey!” I say.

“Wow, this is really neat.  Do you use a ruler
to get these letters so straight?” Ronnie jokes. 

“Ha
, you caught me,” I return and snatch it back from him.

*****

Even as we reach the library, Kirk is still stunned that Ronnie and Vito are joining us for our study group. I feel nervous. 
Ronnie and Vito in a study group?
  This is going to be awkward. The kids in this program are intense and serious about their educations.  Ronnie and Vito, not so much. 

Amused,
I watch Vito as he checks out the size of the library. To be fair, it is huge, and the ceiling bows out in round sections that are really neat to look at.

“I d
idn’t know there were fuckin’ this many books in the world, let alone on campus,” Ronnie jokes under his breath to Vito.

I lead us over to our usual study table.  Kevin is there playing a game on his phone.  He rumbles out a “What’s up?” and ignores us.

“Erin?” a sharp little voice says from behind me.  “Can I use your notes from science?  I don’t think mine are good enough.  I’d like to cross-reference what you have to what I have.  I don’t want any surprises on the mid-term.” Kate goes on and on in her own world.  “I wish they’d let us use those mini-recorders.  I hate missing anything.”  She stops and stares at the table.  Namely, at Vito and Ronnie.  “Um,” she adds.

“Kate.  This is Vito and Ronnie.  They
’re in Composition class with Kirk and me.”