Miles Away (Carrion #1)

by Addison Kline

  “He’s so….bianco!” Rita said with a laugh as she continued to compare the two Capadonno brothers.

  While Landon peered at Miles and Rita in utter confusion, laughter ripped from Miles’s mouth. Miles’s eyes watered, his belly hurt and he couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Bianco? What’s bianco?” Landon demanded to know with wide eyes and a self-conscious look on his face.

  Mrs. Marone was still laughing, so Miles acted as her proxy and replied for her.

  “She said you’re so white…” Miles replied as he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at Landon.

  The kid stood there with a nonplussed look.

  “Ummm…” Landon said in a confused tone of voice, “thanks. I guess.”

  Miles elbowed Landon in his gut and explained, “His Irish American side is much more prominent.”

  “I see! I see! I hope you’re staying out of trouble!” Rita said as she pinched Landon’s rosy cheeks.

  “I am,” Landon replied as he broke away from Rita’s clutches.

  “He’s a good kid,” Miles confirmed. “He’s my buddy.”

  Rita smiled in approval as she grabbed two menus.

  “Follow me, gents,” Rita said as she led the way through the dining room.

  The light atmosphere faded as Miles and Landon followed Rita into the dining room. The patrons continued to stare. They were watching Miles’s every move, like a hawk stalking its prey. Landon noticed it too. He whispered in Miles’s ear, “We should go.”

  Miles rolled his shoulders as he let his stress roll down his back.

  “Chill,” Miles spat through his teeth.

  It wasn’t a request. It was a straight up fucking demand. Don’t act like a pussy in the heart of South Philly. You’ll be forever known as a chump. Around here, respect is everything, and once you lose it, it’s gone forever.

  Dante Sabotino glared up from his seat at Miles. With sneaky eyes and well-gelled hair, his appearance was as slippery as his personality was. Dante’s cousin, Vinnie “The Fish” Moretta, wasn’t much of an improvement. His rounded belly threatened to pop the buttons off his striped button-down shirt. His terrible comb-over damn near made Miles laugh. Damn near, but he didn’t.

  I might not be scared of these idiots, but the last thing you want to do is disrespect him in his own backyard. Vinnie ran the blade of his butter knife over his finger nail. Now that actually made me chuckle. I guess that shit was supposed to scare me. A dumbass with a butter knife. I’ve created weapons more threatening in the confines of my cell. Shaking my head as I walk by, I decide not to give Dickhead Dante the time of day.

  “Here ya are, fellas. What can I get ya?” Rita asked as she slipped on a pair of reading glasses and whipped out a notepad to write upon.

  Miles ordered first. It’d been forever since he’d had a decent meal, and in his eagerness, he accidentally cut off the kid. Landon looked like he understood, so Miles wasn’t too embarrassed.

  “Putanesca with some of those garlic knots,” Miles told Rita.

  I can almost taste it now. My favorite dish. Angel hair pasta, extra virgin olive oil, capers, olives, fresh tomato and basil. Delicious, Miles thought.

  “That meal comes with a salad. Do you want chef, Caesar or garden?” Rita asked.

  “Chef,” Miles replied quickly.

  “White wine or red wine?” Rita asked.

  Miles shook his head. “Tall glass of ice water. I have to drive back to Jersey tonight.”

  “Very good, and Landon, what can I get ya, hun?” Rita asked as she scribbled Miles’s order down onto the notepad.

  “Cheesesteak provolone wit’… and an order of fries,” Landon said as he handed over his menu, ordering in the local lingo which meant that Landon wanted a cheesesteak with fried onions and provolone cheese.

  “And to drink?” Rita asked.

  Landon gave Miles a crooked glance. The kid wore his heart on his sleeve. Miles could immediately see right through his brother’s facade. He was going to try to play his hand. He wanted to see how far Miles would let him slide.

  “Make it a Jack—straight up,” Landon said with a wicked smirk.

  Rita laughed at Landon and then looked at Miles.

  Miles quickly replied, “He’ll have a Shirley Temple with an extra maraschino cherry.”

  Landon scoffed as Miles winked at him. “I think that’s a little more your speed, kid,” Miles said as he chuckled loudly.

  “All right, Miles. Order will be up shortly. I’m glad to see you looking so good.”

  With that, Rita walked off, disappearing behind a set of kitchen doors to place their order. Miles looked over at Landon, and he seemed nervous as he sat across from his brother, tapping his fingers on the wood of the table. Clearing his throat, Miles caught his attention as his stark blue eyes peered up at him.

  Jesus, he looks like my mother.

  “So… what’s been going on?” Miles asked. The kid looked like something was plaguing him. Landon shrugged as he looked up at Miles.

  “Just the usual, man,” Landon began.

  Miles laughed darkly.

  “Your usual and my usual are worlds apart, dude… You are staying out of trouble, right?” Miles asked, giving his younger brother a scorching glare.

  The look of pure hostility on Miles’s face caused Landon to recoil from his gaze. Landon stared back at Miles with a nervous look oozing from his eyes.

  “Not trying to make you nervous. I have your back. I’m just wonderin’ what I’m coming home to,” Miles explained.

  Landon let out a deep sigh. “The focus is on Dad right now. The doctors are saying he’s fading but he’s still a loud, miserable bastard. Sasha’s living at the house again. So is Rainey but she’s rarely home. Dustin comes and goes. We have a nurse that comes to the house during the week, and she’s helping to take care of Dad.”

  “What about Knox?” Miles asked with a lethal edge to his voice.

  Knox was the one person Miles was most anxious to see. They were tight once. Miles had only heard from him once in over seventeen years. Once was enough.

  “Knox is Knox,” Landon explained. “Busy up in New York being DA and all. I haven’t seen him since Christmas.”

  Miles let out a breath of relief.

  At least I know that I won’t be ambushed the second I stroll through the damn door.

  “You let me handle the old man. Just give me a heads up when you hear about Knox coming around. He and I need to have words,” Miles said.

  “All right…” Landon said as he tapped his fingers on the table. “What about?”

  “That’s between him and me,” Miles said coarsely.

  As Miles closed down the conversation, Landon stared at him with a confused look. There were questions in his gaze, but Miles’s lips refused to provide the answers he sought.

  Miles’s thoughts began to wander. According to the United States Government, Landon Capadonno is a man. He is old enough to vote for whatever rich, self-serving scumbag he sees fit. Landon could enlist in the military and pop a cap in however many American-hating ISIS assholes his little ticker could handle. Shit, despite Landon’s baby face and shy demeanor, he could walk into any bar and demand a beer. But just because he had reached the almighty echelon of twenty-one years of age, it didn’t mean that Landon was ready for the skeletons that would come crawling out of the Capadonnos’ proverbial closet. I can only protect the kid so much—eventually, he’ll find out the truth and he’ll have to decide which side of the fence he wants to stand on… and around here, you don’t have a choice. You have to pick a side.

  Then again, maybe things weren’t so cut and dry. Not everyone’s choices were laid out for them like they were for Miles. When it comes to family, the line between right and wrong wavers. There is a grey line that people often walk.

  I would kill for my family… and now that some had crossed a line that should never be crossed, I’d kill them, too. Family vendettas create an unstable environment. Foundations
liquefy, relationships change, bonds break. Knox Capadonno used to be my best friend. Now I want to kill the fucker.

  And that was just one name on Miles’s list. Landon would need to make up his own mind. Miles’s grudges were not his cross to bear, and Miles wasn’t about to make him, either. This vendetta belonged to Miles. The red fury that burned within him since the troubled days of his youth bubbled up like molten lava. Yeah, you could say Miles was a little pissed off.

  As quickly as Rita escaped through the double doors of the kitchen, she swooped back out carrying a pair of drinks and a basket of garlic knots on a tray. Despite the teasing, Rita brought the kid a beer. He was over twenty-one and a paying customer. Miles was the one who was driving, anyway. Although Rita got his order wrong, Landon seemed to be happy enough with his Budweiser.

  Nobody lays a hand on my baby, Miles thought, referring to his precious car.

  Miles took a bite out of a garlic knot and took a swig of his ice water. The cold drink chased down the savory treat that he had not sampled in over seventeen years. Closing his eyes, you’d think Miles was having an orgasm at the table. Landon stared at his brother with a disgusted look upon his face.

  Miles didn’t care, though. “Don’t judge me. Prison food sucks.”

  “I believe you,” Landon said with a laugh. “I have no intention of ever visiting.”

  “Better not. I’ll beat your ass,” Miles said with a smirk.

  Landon gulped down his beer as he stared at Miles. To Miles, he seemed like such a straight-laced kid.

  “So Landon…” Miles asked, breaking him from his thoughts. Landon took another swig of his beer and placed it back down on the table.

  “Yeah?” he asked with a nervous look in his eyes. Landon hadn’t taken his eyes off the door since he arrived.

  “What have you been doing with yourself lately? Got a girl?” Miles asked, trying to drag a conversation out of him.

  “Not right now. Playing my options,” Landon said as a cocky smirk crossed his face.

  “Mmmhmmm…” Miles muttered as his eyes moved from face to face in the restaurant. Many he recognized, but others were completely new to him.

  “I was never really one to hop from girl to girl,” Miles explained. “I never really saw the fascination. It was hard enough figuring out what one woman wanted, let alone a handful.”

  Besides, Letty would’ve beat my ass, Miles thought.

  Landon’s eyes perked up with alarm as he watched someone walk through the front door of the restaurant. Miles couldn’t see the front of the restaurant from his vantage point, but whoever just walked in caught Landon’s eye and his gaze trailed them across the dining room.

  “Yo, Miles, head’s up. Ruin Rizzoli is staring at you…” Landon said, his forehead scrunching up as the stress began to show in his facial expressions.

  “Ruin, huh? You mean Rich Rizzoli?” Miles asked with a confused look on his face.

  “Yeah, he’s known as Ruin now. He’s fighting in the underground arena.”

  Miles craned his neck around, expecting the worst, but when he met eyes with his old buddy, all he could do was laugh. Miles stood up from the table, as a loud laugh ripped from his throat.

  “Fucking Richie,” Miles said as he peered back at one of his oldest friends.

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Landon asked with a confused look growing from his eyes.

  “It’s uh… it’s neither. It’s fine. Richie is harmless,” Miles said, unsure of how to answer the kid’s question.

  “Shut the front door and shut the back one, too! Miles fucking Capadonno…” Ruin said as he approached Miles with a shit-eating grin.

  “Richie Rizzoli… holy hell,” Miles replied. “It’s been forever.”

  “I can’t believe they finally let you out,” Ruin said as he shook Miles’s hand.

  “Hi, Miles,” a petite female with a head of long black curls and deep red lipstick said from behind Ruin. Miles immediately recognized her as his cousin, Rumor.

  “Hey Ru!” Miles said, happy to see a familiar face. “You two?”

  Ruin laughed as he grasped Rumor’s hand. “Yeah… Six months now, we’ve been together, right, hun?”

  Rumor rolled her eyes. “Eight. But who’s counting?”

  Standing up from his chair, Miles towered over both of them. Miles could remember when he and Richie both stood shoulder to shoulder in elementary school. Miles slapped Ruin hard on his back, damn near knocking the wind out of his chest.

  Ruin looked Miles up and down and laughed. “You look nothing like I remember you!”

  “Yet you recognized him from across the restaurant,” Landon said with a nonplussed look on his face.

  “Hey Landy,” Rumor said as she pinched her cousin’s cheeks.

  “Stop that, and don’t call me Landy anymore!” Landon complained. “It’s Landon. I’m a man now.”

  “I’m sowwy!” Rumor said in her best baby voice.

  “Dude, you look nothing like I remember either,” Miles said as he slapped Ruin’s bulging bicep.

  Fucking ’roids. He’s probably got a pecker the size of a tictac.

  Ruin threw his head back as a laugh ripped from his mouth. “So when did they let you out?”

  “Like an hour ago.” Miles nodded towards Landon. “The kid picked me up.”

  “I was just saying to Rumor that my buddy Miles owned a Charger like the one that’s parked outside…” Ruin mentioned.

  “Oh, yeah. That’s Corina.”

  “You still have the car?” Ruin asked in a shocked voice.

  “Yeah… A buddy of mine had kept her safe in his garage in Jersey City.”

  “Knox started a rumor that it was riddled with bullet holes…” Ruin said, giving Miles a look of disbelief.

  “Yeah, well, what else is new? My brother always was full of shit.”

  “So, damn… buddy. What’s with the beard?” Ruin asked with a bewildered look on his face.

  Miles lifted his eyebrow. It was a conversation starter for sure. Running his fingers through his beard, the soft hair grazed against the rough skin of his hand.

  Winking at a girl at the next table, Miles replied, “The ladies dig the beard, man.”

  The beautiful blonde at the next table over gave Miles a smoldering smile. She smoothed her long blonde hair down her back and summed Miles up in a glance. Lifting an eyebrow, blondie was impressed. Miles stroked his beard and gave her a wink. That was all the verification that he needed.

  The kitchen doors swung open as Rita emerged with a tray full of steaming hot food.

  “Hate to cut you short but…” Miles began as he turned from Rumor and Ruin to take his seat.

  “Oh, yeah… yeah… I’ll catch up with you later. What’s your cell number? I’ll call you,” Ruin said, clearly forgetting that Miles just got out of the clink.

  “Yeah, I’ll get back at ya when I get that far,” Miles replied.

  “Oh, right. All right, man… see ya…” Ruin said as he backed away with Rumor’s hand in his.

  Miles didn’t expel another ounce of energy upholding the conversation as Rita placed his deep dish of putanesca in front of him. The scent brought him back to 1998. It was as if he hadn’t just spent half his life in a cell. It was like Miles was seventeen again. Twirling his fork around the angel hair pasta, Miles dug into the best meal of his life.

  “Dude, you should reserve those noises for the sack,” Landon said with a laugh as he watched Miles eat.

  Flipping Landon the bird, Miles continued to savor his meal, not giving a flying fuck what anybody thought of him, his beard, or the sounds he made while eating the best meal of his twisted life.

  After he was finished eating, Miles flagged down Rita and asked for the check. In typical Rita fashion, she was back in 2.5 seconds. Miles paid the bill in cash and left an eighteen percent tip.

  Because I’m classy like that, Miles thought.

  Miles told the kid to quit making goo-goo eyes at th
e blonde at the next table, and wrap it up.

  I have things to see and a woman to do. Maybe I said that wrong? Nope. I crack myself up.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “C’MON, ANTE UP!” Michael Capadonno spat as he picked his cards up off the table.

  Sitting in a hospital bed, Michael Capadonno looked weak as he spoke to the men that sat around his bed. They pretended not to notice as they dropped their bets on his lap and surveyed their hands.

  Anthony Schiabetta sat by Michael’s side trying to give him pointers on his hand, while five other men held up their own cards. Eddie “The Landlord” Torrento sat at the foot of Michael’s bed with an annoyed look permeating from his beady eyes. Beside him sat “Big Bang” Benny Mancini, whose reputation was as large as his gut was round. Next to him, sat Salvatore “Six” DiBlase, the six standing for the number of ex-wives he had. They’ll probably be calling him Seven soon enough. On Michael’s right-hand side sat Luke “The Face” Demograzzi, who had earned his nickname after no less than four rounds of plastic surgery.

  “So whaddya think is gonna happen with your boy gettin’ out of the can, today?” “Big Bang” Benny Mancini asked as he eyed up his cards.

  Michael’s right eyebrow raised as he considered the question. Glaring down at the cards in his hands, he didn’t respond.

  “Cat got yer tongue?” Big Bang asked Michael when he didn’t get an answer.

  Michael glared at his associate from over his cards.

  “Yo, Mike, that’s a good question. I’d like to know the answa’ too…” Eddie “The Landlord” Torrento said as a cigar hung off of his lip.

  Salvatore “Six” DiBlase rolled his eyes. “Quite frankly, I don’t give a shit. It’s just one more asshole to clock.”

  “Who says we’re watchin’ ’em?” Anthony Schiabetta asked darkly as he brought his glass to his mouth. Sipping down the amber-colored drink, Six wore an unreadable expression.

  “Seriously, Mike… Are ya gonna answer my fuckin’ question or just ignore me?” Big Bang asked testily.

  Michael Capadonno cast a lethal glare at Benny as he laid his cards down.

  “Royal flush, suckers… Pay up,” Michael said with a sly smirk.