“Motha’….” Six griped as he slapped down his cards on the table.
“Madonn’!” Big Bang complained as he snapped down a one-hundred-dollar bill onto Michael’s lap.
“So seriously, boss… Whaddya want us to do about Miles?” Six asked.
Michael sat silent for a moment. Staring at each of his men, he replied, “That, gentlemen, remains to be seen.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“WHAT NOW?” LANDON ASKED Miles as Corina revved up I-95 North. The sun was setting over the Philadelphia skyline, reflecting brightly off of the skyscrapers in the distance.
“Delilah’s… Cheerleaders… Club Risque?” Landon asked as he rattled off the names of some of Philly’s notorious strip clubs.
“How about none of the above?” Miles suggested, keeping his eyes drilled to the road. A red Chevy swerved in front of Corina. “Fucking douchebag! You don’t cut off a beauty like Corina!”
Sticking his head out the window, Miles screamed, “Good way to see angels, jackass!”
“C’mon, man…” Landon whined. “It’ll be fun…”
Rolling his eyes, Miles replied, “What part about blue balls is fun? No thanks, dude.”
“You just haven’t been to the right one… It’ll be fun,” Landon insisted.
“Yeah, I’m good, dude. A real man don’t need to pay a woman to shake her tits for him. And fun? Seriously? Empty wallet and an emergency case of the blue balls. And the girls… they bring in the most coked out, strung out, skin and bones bitches they can find. That shit is not sexy.”
Landon looked at Miles as if seven heads had just sprouted from his neck.
“Well, what is your idea of fun?” Landon asked, the look on his face not fading at all.
Miles laughed dryly as he replied, “Give me a woman I can sink my teeth into. Gimme curves, man.”
“So no bar?” Landon asked.
“Fuck that.”
“So what are we doing?” Landon asked, sounding annoyed.
The kid’s cheeks are turning red with frustration. It is freaking hilarious. It takes everything in my power not to laugh.
“We aren’t doing anything,” Miles said elusively. “No offense, kid. The last thing I wanna do on my first night out of the can is to go to a tittie bar with you.”
Landon grunted. “None taken. I guess… So what are you doing?”
As Miles handled the jarring turn onto the Benjamin Franklin Bridge, he replied with a wicked smile on growing from his lips, “Gonna wrap myself around some wicked curves, boy. Don’t wait up.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“DAMN IT, LETTY! What’s taking so long? Where’s my dinner?” Michael Capadonno yelled in a raspy voice from the hospital bed that was situated in the parlor of 744 Heritage Avenue in Carrion, New Jersey. The most notorious address in town.
Letty’s right eyebrow arched as she poured the contents of a pot into a stainless steel colander. The angel hair pasta slipped from the pot as a cloud of steam billowed before her, threatening to melt off her make-up. Smoothing down her brown hair that was pulled tightly into a bun atop her head, Letty attempted to calm the muscles in her face and neck before she faced Michael.
This man has zero patience, Letty thought.
“Mr. Capadonno, if you don’t simmer down in there, I’m going to have to up your dose of Zoloft! Don’t get yourself all worked up over some crappy spaghetti, now!” Letty bit back.
Mr. Capadonno had come to expect a little bit of attitude with his dinner. It seemed to amuse him.
What a pain in the ass.
Letty yelled out to the parlor from the state of the art kitchen on the other side of the house. Seriously. This kitchen is to die for. I probably shouldn’t say that too loud. These people will make my wish a freaking reality, Letty thought.
Taking a deep breath, Letty took a moment for herself. Letty was a smart woman, so how does a woman like that come to work in the home of Carrion’s most reputable mobster? In a word? Persuasion. What Michael Capadonno wants, Michael Capadonno gets.
I’ve known the Capadonnos for a long time. I know them well. Too well, if you ask me. I was Michael’s eldest son, Miles’s, girlfriend for three years, during my teenage years. It didn’t end well. In fact, it was an era that I wish I could forget, altogether. After running into some trouble with the crime family, Miles was arrested, and I never heard from him again. To say I was hurt is an understatement. That hurt matured into anger, but in the end, the experience has made me a stronger woman. Nobody fucks with Letty Alves. Nobody. I’m the toughest thing in a pair of stiletto pumps. I’m strong because I have to be. When you let your guard down you get hurt, and sorry, I’ve come too far in this life to fall into old habits. Life definitely has a habit of throwing some serious curves, though. I’ve got too much going for me to let some old feelings bring me down.
Who would have thought that after Letty’s history with the Capadonnos that she’d end up working for them? Definitely not Letty.
No, I’m not running jobs for the mob. Don’t be so judgey! I’m a nurse. Working for Atlantic Home Healthcare, I provide care to many patients. That is, until Mr. Capadonno hired me full-time. He is a fickle man. A true pain in the ass. But Mr. Capadonno is a generous boss. He pays me well, and he is understanding when I need to leave early because of my son, Gabriel, who is only two years old. With that being said, we spend a lot of time together. He teases me about my rich Mexican heritage. It’s not my fault my father decided to paint the Mexican flag on his garage door! I tease him about being an old washed-up mobster. Michael reminds me a little of my own father, except my dad doesn’t have a criminal record, street cred, or an army of mafiosos ready to do his bidding. My dad is a plumber. Okay, so maybe they aren’t that similar at all. They do both happen to make me laugh, though, and are fiercely protective of me. Mr. Capadonno has been kind to me, and he watches out for me from the confines of his hospital bed. Despite his reputation as a stone cold killer, he doesn’t look so tough lying in bed. The colorectal cancer had emaciated the man he once was. His fight has gone on for seven years. He’s proven he’s a fighter… a warrior… but he is losing his fight.
Dishing out the pasta onto a large plate, Letty prepared to pour a generous serving of spaghetti sauce onto Mr. Capadonno’s plate. A wicked smile crossed her face.
“Mr. Capadonno! Would you like spaghetti sauce on your pasta? If so, how much?” Letty asked, knowing that her use of the word sauce would grate on his nerves.
I can hear him grumble from the kitchen. I can’t help but laugh.
“C’mon! You’ve been working for me for how long? It’s gravy! Get it right!” Michael Capadonno yelled back in a raspy voice. He sounded out of breath.
Smiling, Letty replied, “Mr. Capadonno! I put gravy on my turkey at Thanksgiving! This is not gravy! It’s red!”
The grumbling continued.
“Jesus Christ, Letty… It’s a good thing you know your shit. Can’t find no Italian girls ’round here that do half you do! Friggin sauce,” Michael griped.
“You’ve got that right! That’s because all you mobsters spoil your girls rotten. I’m not afraid of a little hard work…” Letty replied. “All right! Your pasta and sauce is coming right up!”
“For Christ’s sake, Letty! It’s gravy! GRAVY! My great-grandmother is probably rollin’ in her grave! This is an Italian household. It’s gravy!” Michael yelled into the kitchen at her.
Silently, Letty continued laughing at Michael as she bent over herself in the kitchen. Her stomach hurt from laughing so hard.
My next line should make him roar with contempt.
“Well, Mr. Capadonno,” Letty asked in an innocent enough voice, “who bought this stuff, then? The jar says sauce.”
“JAR? Wait til I get a hold of Sasha! That’s lazy. Not even my Irish ex-wife used jarred gravy! Now my motha’ is probably rollin’ in her grave, too!”
“That’s an awful lot of rollin’, Mr. Capadonno!” Letty exclaimed as sh
e carried his dinner to his bedside. She carried a wooden tray with his plate of spaghetti, garlic bread, a tall drink and a small bowl of custard set neatly on top.
“Laziness!” Mr. Capadonno complained.
In his eyes, it is a mortal sin to eat spaghetti with jarred sauce or gravy or whatever the hell you want to call it. For the sake of this argument, let’s just call it the father friggin’ spaghetti topping, Letty mused.
“Here ya go, Mr. Capadonno. Just how you like it! Here’s your parmesan cheese, some fresh garlic bread, and a tall glass of orange Metamucil!”
I really tried to make it sound effing fantastic.
“Dinner of champions!” Letty continued in a high-pitched voice. She wore the sweetest of smiles on her face as she doted on her patient.
Michael Capadonno looked up at Letty with a gaze as sharp as a thousand knives. She was unnerved for a moment as the old man looked at her from his cool brown eyes. Slowly, his right eyebrow began to arch as a sly smile creased his face.
Though the men are as different as night and day, I can see Miles in the curl of Michael’s smile.
“Not quite, Letty, but it’ll do,” Michael said as Letty placed the wooden tray table on his lap. Helping him sit up in bed, Letty propped up Mr. Capadonno’s pillows behind his slightly hunched back, in an effort to make him more comfortable.
Easing back onto his pillows, Michael let out a sigh of relief, before picking up his fork and taking a bite of his spaghetti. Slowly, he chewed his food and glanced up at Letty with an appreciative smile.
“It’s good, Letty. Thank you.”
Michael Capadonno may have a rap sheet as long as the wall of China, but the man had manners.
“You’re welcome, crabby man, “ Letty said with a smile. Being his caretaker for so long, Letty and Michael had developed a rapport.
He is a total pain in the ass, but even I have to admit, he is charming. It is no secret that I am fond of Michael Capadonno. He wasn’t a good man in his youth. He had done some terrible things. When his daughter, Sasha, originally asked me to be his caretaker, I declined. I knew a little too much about the Capadonnos to feel comfortable with the position. It wasn’t until Michael himself started pursuing me relentlessly that I finally agreed. The old guy reminded me of Miles. This was something that was both in his favor and to his disadvantage.
Miles.
It’s been years since I’ve seen Miles. I’m not the same girl he left behind. I know his years away will have broken down and changed the boy I loved. But I have to see him. I have to see if the Miles I love still lives in those eyes.
Lost in her thoughts, Letty was brought back to reality by Michael Capadonno’s rough voice.
“Letty,” Michael said, gently touching her hand.
Letty flinched as Michael’s touch ripped her from her thoughts. Clearing her voice, Letty replied.
“Yes, Mr. Capadonno?”
“For the millionth time, just call me Mike,” he said with a gentle tone to his voice. His eyes had a striking quality to them. Filled with emotion and inflection, Michael Capadonno clearly had something that he needed to tell Letty. Every nerve in Letty’s body was alive with anxiety. Her stomach lurched as she stared back at him, the seriousness of his expression making Letty very nervous.
When Michael Capadonno wants to have a serious discussion, you listen and you listen good. He’s the last man on earth you want to piss off.
“Okay, Mike. Is there something you want to talk about?” Letty asked as she removed her hand from his grasp.
Michael patted the empty spot on his bed as he continued to stare up at Letty. Letty could feel her anxiety increasing by the second. Against her better judgment, she sat on the edge of Michael’s hospital bed and waited for the old man to tell her what it was that was plaguing him.
In my experience, when a patient knows that they have no treatment options and no avenue of recourse, often their nurse gets more details on their wrong-doings than their bartender, barber, preacher and psychiatrist combined. This is no different with Michael. I know far more than I want to know about the man that sits before me. But I am not running. I made a commitment, and I plan to see it through. I am not about to abandon a man who is knocking on the devil’s door.
Michael’s eyes flickered up to an old photograph on the wall. Following his gaze, Letty noticed that Michael was staring right at the old picture of Miles and herself at the Carrion High Junior Prom.
We had fun that night. That was the night where things really started to get serious. He had looked so damn delicious in his black tux. He ditched the tie and cheesy boutonniere and kept his attire simple. Me on the other hand, I thought I was a princess in a purple satin number that would have made Barney the dinosaur jealous. My hair was a frizzy permed mess. Let’s not even discuss the lip liner and the purple eyeshadow. I was mortified that in Michael Capadonno’s beautiful house, I was the one eyesore that stuck out. Jesus, Letty! Enough with the trip down memory lane!
Finally, Michael spoke. In a voice as thick as maple syrup, he said, “You know he got out t’day, right?”
Michael had a grim look on his face as Letty tried to process what it was that Michael had just said.
“I’m sorry?” Letty asked, momentarily dulled by her trip down memory lane.
“Miles, Letty… He was released from prison today. He’s going to be coming back to Carrion,” Michael admitted as he looked at Letty with a nervous tone in his eyes. His gaze penetrated Letty’s glassy eyes. He seemed to be searching for something. Was it fear? Whatever he was looking for, he wouldn’t find it.
I was never afraid of Miles. He wasn’t an innocent man… but he was innocent of the crime in which he was accused of. I saw the whole thing play out. I was, however, shocked by the news. It had been such a long time since I heard from Miles. He told me to wait for his letter, but I never received one. Not a single one.
A sharp breath escaped Letty’s mouth. The shock was apparent on her face as she looked down at Michael.
“Ya all right, Letty?” Michael asked her with a look of deep concern on his face.
Shake it off, Letty.
“Yes. I’m happy to hear, Michael,” Letty replied in a stoic tone of voice. Her voice didn’t match the look of total shock on her face.
I keep talking as if the premise of Miles Capadonno getting out of prison doesn’t effect me in the least. The fact of the matter is, it does. My hands are clammy. My fingers won’t still. My breath feels hollow in my chest. I’m freaking out, but I cannot let it show.
“Please,” Michael said as he clutched the sleeve of my shirt.
I have never seen him look so desperate before. The man who was nicknamed the “Butcher of Carrion” suddenly looks as if his life is depending upon what it is that he is about to say.
“What is it, Michael?” Letty asked in a concerned tone of voice.
I hadn’t realized how concerned I was until I heard my own voice come out. When it comes to Michael, I pay attention. When it comes to Miles, I sure as hell pay attention whether my own logic wants me to or not.
“Please, Letty,” Michael began again bringing her hands to his cheek. His skin felt like tissue paper under Letty’s touch. “You cannot tell anyone that Miles is out.”
“Any of them? But Michael, he’s a big guy… Someone is bound to see him,” Letty replied with concern on her face.
I don’t want to be a secret keeper… especially not for the Capadonno family. That’s a death wish waiting to happen.
“Please, Leticia… Please just do what I ask?” Michael asked, not letting go of her hands.
My heart stirred in that moment. What is it that has Michael Capadonno so spooked? He is a man that strikes fear in the hearts of others… But here he is, the Butcher himself, cowering in fear at the very thought that someone would find out that Miles had earned his freedom. Was it concern that I saw in his eyes, or the hatching of a plot?
“Okay, Michael,” Letty agreed. “But what abou
t the others… Won’t Miles be staying here?”
“Landon and Sasha know. The others don’t yet… And somehow, I highly doubt Miles will be staying here,” Michael explained.
“Whatever you think is best, Michael,” Letty said as she stroked Michael’s cheek with her thumb and index finger.
Michael sat there, deep in thought, for several minutes. Finally, as the grandfather clock in the dining room tolled seven times, Michael Capadonno shook his head.
“Yes. This is best,” Michael said without elaborating further.
Trying to ignore the nervous look in Michael’s eyes, Letty tugged on his covers and covered up his bare foot with the soft blanket.
“Michael?” Letty asked.
“Yes, honey?” Michael replied, gazing up at Letty with glassy eyes.
“If you think you’re in danger, you need to tell me,” Letty pushed.
A cool smile crossed Michael’s face as he crooked his neck ever so slightly.
“No, bella. It’s not me I’m frightened for. I can look death in the face and not blink an eye. You know this is true.”
Letty nodded. This was a true statement. Michael was very courageous in his fight against cancer. Prior to becoming sick, Michael stared down death on a daily basis under different circumstances.
“It’s a different story when it’s your own children facing the machine that you helped build,” Michael explained darkly.
The hair stood up on Letty’s arm.
Miles. Someone is going to make a move on Miles again. I recall it like it was yesterday. We were sitting inside the Mi Famiglia restaurant when Vic Schiabetta shot at Miles through the window of the restaurant. As the glass window shattered, a bullet zoomed across the dining room, missing Miles’s head by a fraction of an inch. We ran. From Vic. From Knox. From Michael, himself. Stop Letty. Don’t go down that path. You don’t want to make the psychiatrist rich again, do you? The past is the past. Leave it there.
Releasing a breath, Letty tried to slow her heart as it hammered in her chest.
Miles Away (Carrion #1) Page 5
