holes. Which meant he heard a lot. Which meant he knew a lot.
But when Teddy made his way down the dark corridor of the rib joint that led to the
backrooms, Mookie wasn’t taking bets. He was over in a corner by himself. A black dude in a
black joint drinking his blues away. And it wasn’t even eight a.m. Teddy stood there, staring at
him, wondering what blues he had to drink away, and if those blues had something to do with
what happened at the bakery.
When Mookie looked up, and saw Teddy’s face, there was no longer any doubt in Teddy’s
mind that Mookie’s blues had everything to do with what happened. Mainly because, as soon
as Mook saw Teddy, he took off.
There was a torn screened-door in the back of the room that led outside, to help ventilate
the smoke-filled space, and Mookie, with his skinny thighs and long legs, took off running
through it. The screened-door clanged against the hinge so hard it nearly fell off, when he fled.
But Teddy took off after him. He didn’t hesitate to take off after him. He’d been up since
early morning trying to find out why he was targeted, and the only consistent name that kept
coming up was Mookie. Mook would know, they said. He was hinting all week that some big
shit was going down.
Teddy ran through that same screened-door and chased Mookie across the back of the
restaurant to the fence line. He saw Mookie jump the tall fence easily, and Teddy, though
much bigger than the man he was chasing, climbed that fence and jumped it too. And both
men, after jumping, took off running.
Although Mookie had long, skinny legs and could run with ease, Teddy had long, muscular
legs that propelled him forward at a faster clip than Mookie was running, but it would take a
long time before he could close any significant distance between them.
But Teddy was a beast when he was angry, and nearly getting his head shot off, and his kid
brother’s head shot off, was more than enough to propel his anger. He had to catch Mookie.
He had to find out what that kid knew before anything else went down.
It wasn’t a robbery attempt: that much Teddy already knew. Those two men weren’t trying
to snatch that briefcase. They were out on a kill run. But why? And why in the world would
those fools, unless they were fools for real, target the sons of Mick Sinatra?
Not that Teddy could ever tell his father what went down, he thought, as he continued
chasing Mookie. That deal he made with Sammy the Lizard was private for a reason. It was his
own side deal with a man his father did not do business with. But Teddy was thinking more
than one way. He had to start building his own life. His own thing. Maybe even his own
family. Which made him think of Nikki. But he quickly got off of that thought, for survival sake,
as he ran.
Although Teddy might have been running to get information, Mookie was running for his
life. And that fact alone gave Mookie a considerable advantage. But Teddy spent his entire
career overcoming disadvantages, and this time was no different. He just had to run harder.
He was already running as fast as he could. He had to pump harder.
And he hustled. He began bobbing his head and using his advantages, such as his muscle-
tight body, to gain ground. That was how he ran harder. And that was how he began gaining
on Mookie.
But it wasn’t until Mookie looked back, sensing Teddy’s gains, did Teddy realize he had that
skinny motherfucker. Because the energy it required for Mookie to look back, was just the
break Teddy needed to propel himself forward. And instead of making up ground on Mookie
with his feet, he made one long leap into the air as if he was in a broad-jump competition, and
jumped on top of Mookie, knocking him to the ground.
Mookie was so skinny that the crash caused him considerable pain. He screamed out in
agony. He even thought his back might have been broken. Teddy didn’t give a fuck.
He grabbed Mookie up and dragged him over until he could slam him against the fence that
enclosed the long field. And he got as close up in his grill as he could get. Teddy meant
business, and Mookie had to understand that.
“Who did it?” he asked Mook.
“What are you talking about?” Mookie responded breathlessly. “I don’t know what you’re
talking about!”
Teddy slammed him against the fence again with all of his considerable strength, which
caused Mookie to scream out in pain again. “Who did it, motherfucker?” Teddy asked angrily.
“You think I chased you down because I wanted to get exercise? You think I’m here to play with
your sly ass? Who did it, Mook? Who?”
“Gio,” Mookie finally said in a voice that made it clear he was snitching solely to avoid
further pain.
But it was that name that confused Teddy. Did he say Gio? Did he say the name of Teddy’s
own capo? The man that once dated Teddy’s own sister? What the fuck! “Gio?” he asked.
Mook had to mean somebody else. “What Gio?”
“Your Gio. Gio Savarino. Your capo. Ask him. You wanna know who was behind that hit,
ask him!”
Teddy was puzzled as hell. “What does Gio have to do with what went down last night?”
“He’s the one who gave,” Mookie began saying, but then his eyes became big as saucers, as
if he was suddenly startled.
“He’s the one who gave what, Mook?” Teddy asked. But Mookie’s eyes began to roll to the
back of his head, which caused Teddy to frown. He’d seen men OD before. But he’d never seen
it happen like that! “Mook? Mook? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Mookie’s eyes rolled back even further and his body went limp in Teddy’s arms. Teddy
realized it was his strength alone that was holding Mookie up. And that was when two things
happened at once: Teddy saw the blood on Mookie’s back, and he heard a vehicle burn rubber
speeding off.
Teddy quickly pulled out his gun and looked beyond the field where he and Mookie stood.
He just caught a glimpse of a pickup truck turning a corner at high speed. It was far away,
nearly as much distance away as the field they had just run, and then the truck disappeared
around the corner. Mookie had been shot, and the fuckers who shot him had a long-range
scope with a silencer: a professional hit.
“Mook?” Teddy shook what appeared to be a quickly dying Mookie. “Mook! Don’t die on
me, man!”
But Mookie gave up the ghost, and died in Teddy’s arms. His big eyes still wide open and
saucer-size. His youthful face contorted as if his last emotion hadn’t been the fear of dying, but
the fact that he couldn’t believe it was happening.
Teddy began looking around again, to see if that truck would double back, or if another
vehicle would appear as a trail-rider waiting to take Teddy out too. But he saw nothing. He saw
nobody. Just a dead man in his arms: a man who had implicated a trusted member of the
Sinatra crime family in what happened last night. The man Teddy just knew was going places in
their organization.
What the fuck was going on, Teddy thought, as he gently laid Mookie down on that rugged
ground, and looked around again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Cadillac Escalade stopped in front of the Colgate office building near the docks. Teddy
owned the e
ntire Colgate building and his business, Teddy’s Import/Export, was on the top
floor. Not that there was much meat to Teddy’s Import/Export. It was nothing more than a
shell company where mob business, especially business related to the massive Sinatra
syndicate, was conducted. They imported and exported, alright. But it was illegal guns they
were running, not the gin and rum bottling plant the business claimed to be bringing in and
taking out. It was a completely separate enterprise from Sinatra Industries, Mick’s legitimate
business empire, and father and son aimed to keep it that way.
When the SUV stopped, Nikki gathered up her things. “Thank you so much, sir,” she said to
Mick. The ride had been completely devoid of any real conversation, and Nikki expected it to
remain that way as she thanked him again.
But Mick didn’t release the lock for her to open the door. She looked at him.
“He’s my son,” he said to her.
Nikki’s heart began to pound. Was he going to tell her it was useless? Teddy told her how
Mick himself had deserted Teddy and his mama when Teddy was a kid. Was he going to tell her
that Teddy was cut from that same cloth?
She removed the shades that covered her eyes. “Excuse me?” she asked him.
“He’s my son,” Mick said again. “Make sure he deserves you, or he’ll do everything in his
power not to.”
Nikki stared at him. Her eyes looked strong to Mick, but he could also see the fragileness
behind her stare. She understood exactly what he meant.
“Yes, sir,” she said. He released the lock, she got out, put back on her shades, and he
watched her until she was inside the building and clean out of sight.
As he drove away, he wanted to call Teddy and cuss his ass out. Didn’t his ass realize what a
good woman he had? What was his fucking problem? Mick didn’t want Teddy to end up alone
like he almost ended up before he met Roz.
But he didn’t call his son in that moment of fury. Because he knew better. Because he
knew, whether he liked it or not, that Ted and Nikki had to work out their own problems for
themselves, and by themselves.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Nikki was forced to wait in the reception area for nearly three hours before anyone in
authority arrived at work. Teddy wasn’t there, and nobody else knew she was coming, so she
had to wait. And even when the assistant manager finally arrived, along with the manager, she
had to wait another two hours before they would see her. Some emergency had come up at
the docks, a big one, and they were scrambling to handle it.
Walk around, stretch your legs, and chill, the assistant manager had told her repeatedly as
he ran in and out of the manager’s office. Nikki understood emergencies happened, especially
at that particular “company.” And she hated that one had to happen on her very first day. But
she understood it. Teddy should have been there to greet her anyway. It wasn’t anybody else’s
fault. She waited patiently.
And then, five hours after her arrival; five hours after Mick Sinatra himself had dropped her
off, the assistant manager finally bothered to alert his boss.
The door to the office opened, and the assistant manager peered inside. “The new girl is
here,” he said. “I tried to make her wait so long that she would give up and leave, but it didn’t
work. Jungle Fever stayed.”
The office manager, Arturo Ross, didn’t know who he was talking about. He frowned.
“What are you yapping about?”
“The black chick. The new assistant. She’s here.”
“Oh her,” Arturo said. Then he rolled his eyes. He was a brand-new manager; Teddy had
only hired him a couple weeks before. And Arturo had hired the assistant manager less than a
week after that. But this laidback, diverse culture in Teddy’s office, he didn’t like. “Why these
men can’t keep their tramps at home, but always have to give them jobs, I’ll never understand.
All these fucking bimbos around this joint. Now another one I’ve got to deal with. Send her in.”
The assistant left, but within seconds Nikki walked in. She was about to close the door
behind her, but Arturo objected. “Leave it open,” he said. “I don’t want any of you ladies
accusing me of harassment. Not me too!” He said this and laughed, as if the Me Too
movement was designed for ridicule.
Nikki was immediately put off by this man, but she maintained her composure. She needed
this job. She was already disappointed that Teddy hadn’t met her when she arrived. But she
could handle that too. “If you could point me to my office,” she said to him, “I’ll get out of your
way.”
Arturo looked at her. “Your office? What office? Your ass will be right up front with the
rest of the flunkies. I mean assistants! What are you talking about? You don’t have an office!”
Okay, Nikki thought. We’re doing this? Then so be it. “I’ve been hired to be the CEO’s
personal assistant,” Nikki said. “I will be handling very delicate information. I don’t think the
fact that I will need a private office is debatable.”
Arturo frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s not debatable,” Nikki made herself clear.
Arturo’s anger exploded. “It’s not debatable? Says who? You?”
His voice was so loud and forceful that all of the support staff, some two-dozen people,
looked toward the opened office door.
And Arturo’s rage continued. “Who do you think you are?” he asked. “You’re nothing but a
fucking side piece because I doubt seriously if your fat ass is the main dish. Somebody like you
need to be glad a man like Teddy T wants to fuck you at all! And you’re talking bullshit to me?
You? I tell you what, you’d better take your dumbass up front with the other aides and get the
fuck out of my fucking face!”
Nikki already felt less-than-zero for how her life was going, but no way was she going to let
this man, or any man, treat her as if she was what she felt. She was about to set him straight, in
no uncertain terms, but she heard another voice; a very familiar voice that stifled hers.
“What did you say?”
It was Teddy.
Both Nikki and Arturo turned in his direction. Arturo, seeing his boss standing in the
doorway of the office, jumped to his feet. “Sir,” he said.
“What did you just say?” Teddy asked again with a frowned face, as he shut the door so
hard that it bounced back open. The support staff was still able to hear and see everything.
And they could tell the boss was already enraged as he rushed toward Arturo’s desk. “What did
you just say, motherfucker?”
“I was just talking,” Arturo started saying anxiously. But when Teddy ran around that desk
and grabbed him by his coat lapel, he changed his tune. “I was just joking around,” he fired
back. “It was just a joke!”
But Teddy wasn’t having it. These fuckers were always claiming it was just a joke when their
asses were caught. And he caught Arturo. He tightened his grip on his office manager and
threw him across the room. Arturo’s back hit against the wall, and he remained plastered
there.
Nikki didn’t care for violence per se, but that asshole deserved it. She was all in favor of
this!
Teddy hurried to
Arturo. “Apologize to her,” he said as he grabbed him again. “Apologize
now!”
Arturo didn’t hesitate. “I apologize,” he said to Nikki. “I didn’t mean any harm; I didn’t
mean any harm at all. As you know, I was just joking--”
“That’s a lie,” Nikki interrupted him. She wasn’t going along with that, not at the expense of
her own self-worth. “Your ass wasn’t joking.”
Teddy knew it too. That was why he took his fist and beat the crap out of Arturo. Arturo
was fending him off, not with licks but by covering his face with his arms. But Teddy got
through anyway, and landed a lot of punches.
And then, after bloodying him up enough to make his point, Teddy slung Arturo again, this
time against the front of the desk, causing Nikki to do a quick two-step out of his way. Teddy
had flung him as if he was tossing away trash.
Then Teddy pointed at him. “Get your punk ass out of my building and keep your punk ass
away from here! You’re fired. Effective immediately. You’re fired! And take that half-ass
assistant manager you hired with you too. I never liked his ass anyway!”
Arturo was devastated. He never thought for a second he would be fired over words he
spoke to somebody like Nikki. It was a crushing realization how wrong his thinking was.
Arturo pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping the blood from his nose. He was fighting
hard to suppress his anger, his shame, and his pain, as he began making his way around his
desk. “I’ll just get my things and be on my way,” he said.
But Teddy stopped him. “Fuck your things,” he said. “Get your ass out now! I’ll have the
garbage collector collect that shit and get it to you.”
Arturo wanted to lash back. He was an ex-con like most of the people who worked for
Teddy. He was no choirboy either. But he knew Teddy was on a different level. He started shit
with him, shit was going to get started. And he knew he wasn’t going to be the one finishing it.
He left. He gave Nikki a nasty look as he left. But he left.
When Teddy saw that his entire staff was staring into the office, riveted on business that
didn’t concern any of them, he hurried to the office door. “Any of you disrespect Miss Tarver,
too,” he said to all of them, “and you’ll be out on your asses as fast as Arturo. I’m not allowing
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