by Shay Stone
That was the first time I had a gun pulled on me, but it certainly wasn’t the last.
“I can’t today, Vito. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
“Nonsense. Sit and eat with me,” he replies, motioning for me to take a seat across from him. “Marco, bring him a glass of Merlot and the veal Marsala.”
“Really Vito, I can’t.”
He stops cutting into his chicken and leans back in the booth. “Are you refusing to eat with me?”
“I mean no disrespect. Mason’s getting his test results today. I need to get home. I just dropped by to give you this.” I place the briefcase on the table opening it to reveal the contents.
He points to it with his fork. “I don’t want that. Why don’t you keep it a while longer? In case you need it.”
Tony hits me with an I-told-you-so grin. I sigh, wishing just once something would go easy for me. “Come on, Vito. This is the last of the money I owe you. I’m done now.”
“You’re done when I say you’re done. You’ll stay on for a few more months and make sure the transition goes smoothly.”
“I’ve already done that. Your man is trained and in place.”
“Frankie’s no you.”
I push out an exasperated exhale. “Come on, Vito. We talked about this. You gave me your word. Once this was paid off, you’d let me out. And I know you wouldn’t want people thinking you’re not a man of your word.”
His fork pauses and he pins me with formidable, silver eyes. “Anyone else ever talked to me like that I’d slit his throat.”
“No one else has every line of your ledger memorized and recreated along with photos of it sitting on a thumb drive tucked away safe.”
Tony’s head shoots up in surprise, confirming what I suspected—Vito never told him. If he had, Tony would have taken me out months ago to protect his brother. That ledger not only shows payouts that would get Vito convicted, it proves he encroached on the territories of rival families and could start an all-out war between them. Now that Tony’s aware of it, I have to bank on his knowledge of Vito’s affection for me and his fear of the wrath that would rain down on him if he took matters into his own hands. I endeared myself to Vito for a reason.
“Can you believe the set of balls on this guy?” Vito says, laying his silverware down and gesturing for one of the women to scoot out from the curved booth. “I leave him alone in my office for five minutes to check on a shipment and the son-of-a-bitch goes through my files.”
“Never trust a con man,” I reply with a smirk.
“You can say that again. I shoulda known better given you’re Sheila’s kid.”
“I’m not Sheila’s kid,” I snap with enough venom to send his guards reaching for their guns. Vito snickers, tossing his napkin on the table and slides out of the booth until he’s standing in front of me.
“You’re right. It’s a good thing too because if I ever find that bitch, I’m going to cut out her heart. And I wouldn’t want there to be any bad feelings between us because of it. You may have paid off the money she stole from me, but she still needs to be punished. No one steals from Vito Moretti and gets away with it.”
“You do whatever you need to do, Vito,” I say with no adherence. Sheila’s the one that got me into this whole mess. She skipped town with close to a million dollars of Vito’s money, leaving me holding the bag. Sins of the father, or in this case, the stepmother, and all that crap.
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other,” he replies and drags me into a hug, catching me by surprise. When he finally breaks the embrace, he places a hand on either side of my face. “As much as I hate that cunt, I’ll always be thankful she introduced me to you. You’re like the son I never had.”
“You have two sons, Vito,” I remind him.
“Useless fuck-ups I rarely see. That’s why I want you to reconsider. Let me bring you into the business for real. I’m getting older. I need someone I trust to learn how to run things. No one else has the brains to do it. You’ve got dirt on me, so you know I won’t fuck you over.”
Ah, so that’s why he allowed me to keep the flash drive without any retaliation. I’d always wondered. The consummate chess player, he knew this day was coming and planned for it. The USB gave me the leverage I needed to get out, but Vito never saw me as an actual threat.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t. It’s time for me to move on and have a normal life.”
He snorts. “You’re a criminal, Memphis. There’s no such thing as a normal life for you. When are you going to accept that? I give it six months before you’re tangled up in some mess and back here begging for my help.”
“Not this time, Vito.”
“That’s what they all say. And every time, they come back,” he says with hubris, taking a seat at the table.
“Yeah, well that’s not going to happen with me. I’m different.”
“They all say that too.” He gulps his wine and digs back into his meal, indicating our conversation is over.
“Take care of yourself, Vito.”
As I head toward the door, Tony falls in stride with me. “I should slit your goddamn throat for what you did.”
“You know why I had to do it.”
He stops in the entryway blocking the exit. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”
I glance down at his arm. “Are we going to have a problem here?”
He pulls his gun and shoves it into my ribs. “I don’t know. Are we?”
“Not from me. Like I told Vito, ‘I’m out.’”
“Yeah, I guess we’ll see about that.”
“Tony, let it go!” Vito’s voice comes from the middle of the restaurant where he’s now standing, witnessing our interaction. “He’s not to be touched. You hear me?”
I smirk just to be a prick. “Yeah, Tony. Didn’t you hear? I’m not to be touched.”
He snarls his lip. “Maybe I can’t touch you, but the boss didn’t say nothin’ ’bout that little brother of yours.”
Before he can react, I finesse his gun away jamming the barrel under his thick chin. “You touch Mason, and I swear I’ll kill you myself.”
“Memphis, I said enough!” Vito shouts, garnering the attention of his bodyguards.
“We’ve always been good, Tony. Let’s not part on bad terms.” I take a step back, removing the clip and offer the piece back to him before continuing on my way.
I’m almost to my car when I hear Tony call out, “Watch your back, Drake. Accidents happen all the time.”
FOUR
Only Work with People You Trust
Choosing to ignore Tony’s last remark, I pull out my phone and stare at it, trying to psych myself for the call I’m about to make. I rub the back of my neck. It’s not going to be good news. I know it’s not. If it was good news someone would have left a message.
Before I can dial, my phone rings. A smile forms on my lips when I see the name. We haven’t spoken in months, but I knew he’d be the first to cave, if for no other reason than because he’d want his share of the money. The fact that he called today of all days tells me he’s been keeping tabs on me. I answer it, welcoming the interruption. “You’re a cocksucker.”
Mike’s boisterous laugh bellows over the line. “I’ve been called worse, usually by you. How’d it go? Is Jimmy Hamilton a divorced man?”
“Yeah, but he got stabbed with a pair of scissors. That’s how it went.”
“Holy shit! Are you serious? Are you okay?” he asks half-snickering, half-concerned.
Cocksucker.
“Yeah, I just left County General. They had to sew me up,” I reply purposely leaving out the part about paying off Vito to avoid hearing Mike bitch about how half that money belonged to him. He’ll get his share in a few weeks. I turn over the engine and pull onto the highway. “Did you know Angie shot her ex-boyfriend?”
Mike did all my vetting. Growing up, I’d done my best to shoulder the burden, trying to shield him from this life. I criticized his execution every
chance I got, hoping he’d give up and find another line of work—something stable and legit that would allow him a chance at normalcy.
Instead my efforts had the opposite effect, only making him eager to prove himself. He was hell-bent on working with me. After he got fired from his fifth job, I decided to let him. And truthfully, it always helped to have a partner.
As far as recon went, Mike wasn’t too bad, but I still liked to do my own. After all, it was my ass on the line. But the Stapleton job came up right after the kidney surgery, forcing me to depend on him. He wanted to be the one to run it, but I wouldn’t let him. Careless, with an explosive temper and propensity for violence, Mike panicked under pressure, which meant he didn’t have what it took to be a front or a closer.
We’d gotten in a huge fight about it. He stuck around for a bit until the job was underway and then took off, determined to run a con of his own. Now I couldn’t help wondering if he’d done a half-ass job on the research or if he’d simply withheld information to get back at me for telling him he wasn’t ready.
“The first one, right? The second one she just super-glued his dick to his abdomen. Oh, did I leave that part out of the file? Whoops! My bad.”
Well, that answers that question; the bastard knew and purposely didn’t tell me. I’m even more pissed and a little curious if he knew about Harlan’s financial issues too. “Not cool, dude. You don’t do shit like that.”
“Hey, you’re the one with all the stupid rules. You know damn well if they weren’t shitty people, you wouldn’t have gone after them. You and that fucking bleeding heart of yours.”
He’s got me there. I have no problem conning assholes out their money. Hell, I enjoy it! But I don’t scam good people. That’s a line I refuse to cross no matter how much Mike has tried to convince me otherwise. With Vito, it was never a problem. Anyone I laundered money through or embezzled money from had done something to warrant it.
But Sheila used to force me to do that shit. I only did it once on my own out of complete desperation and I swore I’d never do it again. “You still should’ve warned me.”
“Stop being such a little bitch. You made it out alive, right? And you got the money. Please tell me you got the money.”
“Of course, I got the money. Three hundred grand.”
“A hundred and fifty each. That’s it?”
“Don’t forget about the lawyer’s cut.”
“Shit. What the fuck, Memphis?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Wasn’t it in your little file that Angie didn’t have any money of her own and Harlan was mortgaged up to his ass and drowning in debt? It’s a damn good thing I had those pictures you insisted I wouldn’t need, or I wouldn’t have gotten that!”
“Whatever, man. You’re slippin’.”
“Fuck you. What’re you calling me for? I haven’t heard from you in ages. I’m guessing you need help with your con?”
There’s a long pause as he sucks in a deep breath on the other end of the phone. Almost a full minute passes, and just when I’m about to check to see if the call got disconnected, he speaks. “No. I had to bail on that. Things went a little sideways.”
It’s my turn to suck in a breath. This is bad. Mike was determined to pull off that job, if for no other reason than to be able to shove it down my throat.
“How sideways?”
“Enough that I had to get out. Look, it doesn’t matter. I got a line on something bigger. A lot bigger. But I need your help. I laid all the groundwork, but I’m having trouble closing. I need you to come in and give them that push.”
“And what makes you think they’ll trust me?”
“Don’t they always?”
He made a valid point.
“Listen, it’s a two-man job. And you know how much it kills me to admit this, but I need you on this one. I don’t want to do it myself, but I will if I have to.”
“You couldn’t handle a one-man con. What makes you think you can handle a two-man job?”
“You just have to rub it in, don’t you? I’m sorry I’m not as good of a fucking liar as the great Memphis Drake.”
“No, you’re not. Which is why you never should've gone off on your own in the first place. I told you, you weren’t ready. But you never listen. If this blows back on me because you got sloppy . . ..”
“It won’t. Look, I’m sorry. I really thought I could pull it off.”
“No, you thought it would impress me if you pulled it off. Well guess what, Mike? You didn’t pull it off and I’m not fucking impressed.”
“Fuck you, Memphis!”
“No, fuck you! You knew how important this Stapleton job was to me. I trusted you to do your job, but you were too busy trying to prove you could pull your own. Instead, all you did was prove what I’ve been saying all along. You weren’t ready. If you really wanted to impress me, you should have done your due diligence with Harlan. Now everything’s fucked up.”
“How is it fucked up? You got the money. Maybe not as much as you wanted, but it should still be enough to get you through until we pull our next job.”
“I’m not pulling anymore jobs. I’m out.”
“Out? Whataya mean you’re out?”
“Just what I said. I told you as soon as I paid off Moretti, I was done. I’m going straight.” His howling laughter echoes through the line making me pull the phone from my ear. The sound grates on my nerves, roiling anger I’ve kept buried inside for years. “What’s so fucking funny?”
His cackling quiets. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“You’re damn right I’m serious. The only reason I got tied up with Moretti and started doing all this shit to begin with was because of Sheila.”
“I thought you paid off her debt last year.”
“I did.”
“Then why’d you take the Stapleton job?”
“Where do you think I got the money for Mason’s kidney transplant? Only so much of that was covered by insurance. Who else was going to pay for it? Dad can’t work with his condition. And I was down for over a month after the surgery with no money coming in. All those bills kept piling up. Not to mention the couple grand I had to put out every month for medication. Half that shit is experimental and isn’t covered. And then there’s Cora’s salary. What was I supposed to do? I had to go to Vito.”
“I’m sorry Memphis. I didn’t know.”
“Would it have mattered if you did? You sure as hell weren’t going to pony up any money.”
There’s silence on the other end because he knows it’s true. The only person Mike ever gave a damn about was himself. That was the one thing Sheila taught us that he was better at than me.
“So, because you’re done with Moretti, you’re done with me too? How could you just turn your back on me like that?”
“I’m not turning my back on you. Jesus Christ, Mike. Can’t you see this is our shot to have normal lives? Maybe find a girl, get married, have a couple of kids, and stop looking over our shoulders at every damn turn.”
“That sounds boring as shit. I like this life. And you can say whatever the hell you want, but I know you like it too. You get off on always being the smartest guy in the room.”
“I have an eidetic memory, Mike. I don’t have to be running a con to be the smartest guy in the room.”
“You know what I mean. You like pulling one over on people. You’re an adrenaline junkie just as much as I am. I’d give you two months in one of those normal lives you think you want so bad. After that you’d be so goddamn bored, you’d be climbing the walls begging me to find another mark.”
I slump in my seat, sulking like a petulant child. Fuck him.
“You’re awfully quiet over there. Afraid I might be right?” he taunts. “Listen, you can blame Sheila all you want, but admit it. You liked working for Moretti.”
“Liked working for him? Are you crazy? You think I liked being forced to screw people over while busting my ass running side cons to pay off Sheila’s debt?”
“
That’s exactly what I think. Working for him gave you the excuse to be who you really are and do what you do best—fuck people. And you got to pretend you were doing it all to protect us.”
The nerve of him! I should’ve been off playing baseball or running some Fortune 500 company. But instead, I came home one day to find Mason crying, my dad beaten unconscious, and two goons working over Mike. They told me I could work off Sheila’s debt or watch them execute my family. And then they broke my pitching arm and smashed my hand with a hammer, effectively ending my baseball career. I’ve been Vito’s bitch ever since.
“Are you kidding me? You ungrateful bastard. This conversation is over.”
“Memphis, wait! I’m sorry. I didn’t call to fight. I’m serious, man. I need you on this one. And you need it too. You said it yourself. The medication and Cora’s salary cost you what? Four or five grand a month? You think you’re going to find some nine-to-five job that’s going to cover that? And what happens if Mason’s tests come back bad?”
“How do you know about Mason’s tests?”
“The same way I knew your mediation was today. Just because we weren’t talking, doesn’t mean I stopped caring. You’re the only family I’ve got.”
Wow, this must be one hell of a job if he’s pulling out the family card and feeding me that line of bullshit.
“Depending on what happens today, you may need a shitload of money fast. What are you going to do? Go back to Moretti?”
“Hell no! I’m never working for him again. I don’t care what I have to do.”
“Then get your ass to Manhattan and pull this job with me. I’m telling you it could set us up for good. You can have your stupid, boring life and take care of your dad and Mason, and you’ll never have to run another con again if you don’t want. Just say you’ll think about it.”
I pull into the driveway of the rental property I secured for my dad and brother when I married Angie. I needed them close but not so close that anyone could ever find out about them. My bat rolls out from beneath the seat hitting my ankle. I curse, shoving it back under and notice a piece has been chipped off. Fucking Mike. He’s the only other person that’s driven my truck in the last year.
