by Jc Emery
I do not sound like Ryan.
Chapter 11
IT’S BEEN A little over a week since that shit went down at the clubhouse with Mindy and Leo. Nobody’s brought it up, and thank fuck for it, too. After Pop unloaded that shit on me a few days ago about him stepping down, he hasn’t said another word about it. Basically, I’ve spent the past week avoiding people and their bullshit—even Mindy. That’s why I’m holed up in the chapel all alone and long before we have to be in here for the meeting with Leo and Michael. So far, their stories check out, and we’re mostly confident that working with them won’t backfire on us. It’s not like we have many other choices anyway.
Before I forget, I shoot off a quick text to Mindy reminding her that she’s due at Duke’s house for babysitting duty in an hour. This is the most I let myself have of her. I don’t have to remind her, but it makes me feel better to be a little more in control of what she’s doing. Spending time with her is dangerous—I always want more of her—but I won’t do this to her. The only thing that makes me feel good now is that she doesn’t fight me. I’ve wanted this for a long time—a woman who submits herself to me without question. I think Mindy could be this woman for me.
No. I can’t let myself go there. I want more than she can give, and I need to stop thinking about keeping her. Maybe if I were normal, I could help her get to a healthy place. Maybe if I didn’t feel this violent thirst. Maybe if I were normal or safe or even capable of giving her the kind of love she deserves. Maybe then she could be mine.
But that’s not the case, so I need to let it go no matter how bad it burns. Not even the nastiest whiskey burns as bad as the idea of letting Mindy go.
Boots slap against the concrete, jarring me from my thoughts. I look up to find Ryan walking in, a grimace on his face. He plops down in his seat beside me but doesn’t say a word. He’s acting weird with his silent he is. Not that Ryan is ever very talkative, but he isn’t prone to holding back, and I can tell that he is holding something back.
It’s a long while before he speaks. While I wait, we sit in silence and I act like he’s not even there. There’s nothing pushing Ryan to talk.
“Talked to Pop,” he says.
Now I know why he’s being quieter than normal. It fucked me up pretty good when Pop told me he was stepping down, so it has to be fucking with Ryan, too.
“Yeah.” It’s fucking stupid. We’re grown men, but here we are acting like kids whose parents are getting a divorce. I never really thought about how I’d feel about Pop stepping down before. It’s not something I wanted to think about.
“Might be good, not having that asshole be pres,” he says. “Bad enough he thinks he can still tell us what to do because he’s our dad, no matter how fucking old we get.”
“You mean that?” Even if Pop does get carried away with his controlling bullshit at times, I just don’t buy that Ryan is cool with Wyatt taking Pop’s place. Not that Wyatt isn’t a good man and not that he can’t do the job well, maybe even better than Pop. It’s just weird thinking about Pop not being president.
“Yes,” he says quickly. Then he curses under his breath and kicks at the floor. “No. I don’t fucking know. Won’t be able to tell me where to stick my dick anymore.”
I clench and unclench my fists on the table and take controlled breaths to keep my temper in check. I really don’t need to be reminded where he’s sticking his dick.
“Pop’s going to tell you what to do until one of you dies. Holding the gavel has nothing to do with being your father.”
“So there’s no upside here, then?” He’s sulking and so am I, so I decide it’s not worth calling him out on it.
“Basically.”
Just as we finish our bitching over Pop’s decision, our brothers start to wander into the room. Duke and Diesel have Michael and Leo walking between them. When the four of them get to the open doorway, Diesel stretches out his arm with his palm in the air. Michael and Leo hand over three mobile phones and two knives. I don’t know who the fuck gave them permission to carry a weapon, but I guess they have it. It’s not my fucking business to question the decision, so I keep my mouth shut.
Diesel sits down beside Ryan with Fish and Bear across the table from them. Nobody really sits in Chief’s old seat. It’s not some kind of rule or something, and it’s been eight months since his death, but none of us seem to be ready yet. We’re going to have to patch one of our prospects in soon, though. We function best as a ten-man charter, and with everything going on, it’s dangerous for us to not replace Chief’s spot. There are just some things the prospects can’t do. Pop hasn’t talked about it, but I think he’s been holding off patching Squat in because we’re still waiting on word about Torque’s release. He was supposed to be out a few months ago, but a couple minor infractions earned him extra time.
Leo and Michael stand off to the side and wait for direction. Jeremy strides in with two wooden chairs from the main room that he sets down at the empty end of the table, moves Chief’s chair out of the way with his foot, and puts the chairs from the main room in its place. Michael takes the seat next to Diesel and Leo sits between Michael and Bear. This isn’t an official Church meeting because of the visitors in the room, so I’m not surprised when Pop signals to Jeremy that he can stay. Baby Boy nods his head and moves to stand against the wall behind Michael and Leo.
Michael’s wearing a pair of jeans and a dark-red long-sleeve waffle shirt, and Leo’s wearing a black suit. I withhold the snort that bubbles up. It looks like Ma dressed Michael today. Grady’s chilled out some since shit went down at Ma and Pop’s house. I can tell he doesn’t like working with Leo in particular—and I don’t blame him—but he sees the value in the arrangement. Just yesterday we let Leo go to a hotel in town instead of forcing him to hole up in the extra bedroom at Wyatt’s house with Michael. We haven’t released Michael, though. We talked it over, but Pop likes to be able to keep an eye on him, which really means that Ma doesn’t want her baby boy too far out of her sight. The more I think about it, the more I realize how right it is that Pop steps down. It’s no secret that a brother’s old lady has his ear at home, but Ma’s got Pop’s ear way too often. Her heart is in the right place, but sometimes her priorities are different from the club’s.
Pop takes his seat and stretches his arms out to the corners of the table. His eyes slide to his right and fix on Wyatt. With a nod of his head, he gives his successor the floor and leans back in his chair. Wyatt straightens his back and clears his throat.
“ID on the car at the 101 Club checks out and leads back to the Italians in the city,” Wyatt says. Leo nods at the other end of the table. He told us it would, but we had to check. I settle in my chair a little more, knowing that he’s been straight with us so far.
“What I don’t get is why the WOPs in the city got a problem with us,” Ryan says with a taunting smile in Michael’s direction.
Michael’s jaw ticks as he fights back a response that will no doubt make everything blow up. Ryan’s not been quiet about how he feels about Michael, and his insistence to remind everybody of that fact has created a pretty severe rift between the two. Not that I like what Michael did to my sister, but if she can get over it, then maybe we should too. Then again, if it were Mindy . . .
“Good question. Guess we should pay Segreti a visit and have a little talk,” Grady says with a nod and a dark smile. Half the table grins, getting excited at the idea of busting into the city and fucking with Segreti’s shit.
“Wait, Segreti?” Michael’s brow is furrowed. He looks to Leo in confusion. “Is this the same family?”
Leo nods and folds his hands in front of him on the table.
“But how? Segreti’s not strong enough.”
“He used to be. The more business Mancuso scooped up, the less Segreti invested in New York. Took his business west and started building in San Francisco. Now he’s got the city.”
“Great. So a dude our friends in New York pushed out has a beef with our n
ew friends in California. Fucking fantastic,” Michael gripes and rubs his hands over his face.
“Watch your fucking mouth!” Ryan is tense beside me and shakes his head.
“You’re starting to piss me the fuck off, dude. First, I know you’re the one who’s stopping me from seeing my sister. And second, I know she’s over the shit we went through, so maybe you need to fucking let it go already.”
Ryan stands up quickly, his chair sliding back and hitting the wall behind him. If I thought he was angry before, I was wrong. I don’t stand up, because I’m tired of my brothers fighting. Plus, maybe if they beat the shit out of each other, we can move the fuck on already. Instead, I look to the middle of the table and grab the full bottle of whiskey and a glass. I pour myself a sizable amount as I watch the action. It’s all so predictable. Michael stands up, and then Diesel does since he’s in between the two morons.
“Be clear about one fucking thing, little boy. The woman you beat the shit out of is my woman. She’s under my care, my protection, and my fucking body every night. Somebody fucks with what belongs to me and I’m going to get pissed. Don’t like it? Maybe you should take your anger out on your daddy’s dick instead of mouthing off to me in my fucking clubhouse.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I take a sip of the whiskey and eye Michael carefully. Just when I think all hell is going to break loose, baby brother breaks out into a smug grin.
“If you know your woman as well as you think you do, then you at least know not to say that shit to her face. The last thing my sister appreciates is being treated like property. And make no mistake about it, you white trash asshole, if you fuck her over and treat her like she’s something you own rather than treasure, you answer to me.”
“Enough!” I shout as loud as I can. Most of the men in the room look bored and annoyed by this little dick-measuring contest, but I can tell by the looks on Pop’s and Leo’s faces that they’re not enjoying the show. From my right side, Grady snorts.
“You’re adults, not fucking children. Sit down, shut the fuck up, and learn to get along.” Both Michael and Ryan narrow their eyes at me and open their mouths to speak, but I slam my fist into the wooden table top so hard that my fucking arm throbs. I can’t even feel my hand. “You’re both my brothers, and you both love my sister. This family is incestual enough without you two shoving your dicks up each other’s asses. Now knock it the fuck off. We have a call to make. Fuck.”
“Not so easy dealing with a couple of immature assholes, is it?” Pop says from behind me. I turn to the head of the table and shake my head. I know he’s referring to how difficult Ryan and I were when we were kids, but now is so not the time. Asshole. Shit. No wonder Ma stays high all the time. She’d have to be high to put up with this bullshit.
Diesel pulls out the three phones he confiscated from Michael and Leo and Leo tells him which one to use. Leo directs Diesel which contact to pull up, and while they get the phone ready, I set up the speaker system I just acquired. It’s nothing fancy, just a one-way speaker that allows the entire room to hear the conversation through the headset Leo will use. It’s not fool-proof. If the room gets too loud, the person on the other end will surely hear the commotion, but it’s the best we can do while not fully trusting Scavo’s motives. Once Leo has the headset hooked up into the phone and adjusted to his liking, he lifts his head and looks to the other end of the table.
“When I talked to Gloria, Carlo and Emilio still hadn’t been released from Rikers. Because of my prior convictions, I was unable to visit them. Neither have contacted me, but according to Gloria, Carlo got himself in the hole for a while. My only point of contact since this whole mess went down with the lab bust has been Carlo’s consigliere, who is also my uncle Carmine, and Tony. Carmine has been shut out by Rico, Emilio’s younger brother. The stupid fuck is just a capo, but he’s been running around like Tony thinking he owns the streets while he owns nothing. I hate that prick.”
“Just find out what you can. We’re not so desperate that we want anyone in the organization figuring out we’re working together,” Pop says.
“Uncle Emilio has a thing about checking in. He likes to know where his capos are at all times,” Michael says. He’s speaking to Leo, really, but he’s loud enough for the whole room to hear. “I know you know this, man, but better to be reminded than to fuck up. Best thing to tell him about Tony is that he’s trying to run shit and he’s pissing everybody off, including his own capo. Tell Uncle Emilio his boy’s got a big head and, as far as you know, Alex found out about Ruby and company on her own and she’d been in contact with the club for months.”
“Smart. Takes the heat off Princess about the whole ratting thing,” Duke says with a nod and a proud smile to Michael. “Nosy little girl just wanted to meet her aunt. She had no fucking clue what she was stirring up.”
“Yeah, but is Uncle Dick-Sucker going to buy that story?” Ryan asks Duke, totally ignoring Michael.
“What other story is he going to believe? Either we tell the truth and make the target on Princess’s head even brighter, or we play up the raging Mama Bear angle,” Duke says.
“He’ll buy it.” Michael chimes in, nodding his head. “Al’s always sticking her nose in things she shouldn’t. I talked to Aunt Gloria a few days ago. She and Dad have been in a pissing match since we were born over telling us the truth. She thinks it’s unfair that we never knew, and for obvious reasons, he never wanted us to. Once I knew the truth, a lot of shit from childhood started to make sense. Nobody can keep a secret this big forever. Tell him I’m refusing to bring Al home. We’re getting to know our mother and Tony’s just pissed because he sees Forsaken turning the Boss’s house into Swiss cheese as disrespect that can’t be ignored. The Boss and Underboss getting sent away was the perfect time to prove himself and move up the ranks.”
“And if Tony’s told Emilio the truth?” Duke asks.
“I stick to the story. Either way, it buys us some time and gets us some info,” Leo says.
Finally it seems the room doesn’t have any more questions or comments and we can fucking get to the reason we’re here. Diesel gets the call going, and I hold my breath, hoping nobody fucks this up. Leo adjusts the earpiece that’s attached to the mobile and settles in.
“Vescovi.” The prick answers his phone with his last name, like the asshole calling doesn’t know who the hell he’s trying to reach.
“Sir,” Leo says. “Scavo checking in.”
“You calling from a comfortable place?”
“As comfortable as can be,” Leo responds. Each organization or club has their own code words and language they don’t explain to outsiders, but for the most part it’s all the same.
“Good. Then you want to explain what the fuck you’re doing out west with Michael?” Emilio’s voice booms through the speaker. Half the men in the room roll their eyes at Vescovi’s dramatics.
“Things became . . . complicated when Tony was released from the hospital. Most of our friends have remained interested in keeping company policy, but a few co-workers have been . . . less than cooperative.”
“You’re saying Tony’s been, uh, uncooperative?”
“I’m saying that a misunderstanding at home lead to a misunderstanding in the workplace and has since resulted in a disaster on both fronts. Tony’s felt his boss’s absence a little harder than most men in the office. He’s, uh, blazing his own trail so to speak.” Leo’s a smart man, and this conversation proves it. Emilio may be the underboss, but he’s also Tony’s father. Disrespecting the man to his father outright isn’t wise, especially when we need to remain on his good side long enough to find out what he knows.
“What does that have to do with your visit to California?”
“Apparently Alexandra has had an interest in her mother’s family, and when she found out about her aunt Ruby, she hunted her down. Being unaware of the wounds she was opening, Alexandra turned to Ruby for comfort when she was scared. I’m aware of how unfriendly Ruby’s husban
d was upon his arrival. It’s unfortunate and a disrespect, certainly, but given everything, it’s personal. Tony was unhappy with this and made it a work issue, sending Michael to retrieve his sister. When Michael didn’t return, Tony sent me.”
“How are the twins?”
“Happy to be getting to know the other side of their family. As far as Ruby and her husband are concerned, the debt is paid. There is nothing further to settle. The twins are free to leave when they so wish, but as it stands, neither appears interested in returning to New York.”
“That’s more information than I’ve gotten out of a single man face-to-face since I’ve been out,” Emilio gripes.
“And how are you and Mr. Mancuso? The last time I called the house, your beautiful wife explained that you were otherwise occupied and unable to come to the phone. I’m pleased to be hearing from you.”
“I’m on house arrest. It’s terrible. My beautiful wife, as you call her, won’t get off my ass. The woman can cook for twelve hours straight without taking a break—the only thing she can do for longer than that is bitch. Carlo was in Rikers until a few weeks ago when he got transferred to MCC. He’s got a two-year sentence, and they’re not crediting him for time served. Fucking assholes. I asked Tony to visit him, but he’s been too busy. Now I know why. That fuckin’ kid is starting to piss me off.” Emilio’s angry New York accent slips into Italian full on, and only two of the men in the room understand a fucking thing he’s saying. I press the mute button and give the signal to the room that they’re free to talk.
“He’s such a douche,” Michael says and rubs his temples.
Leo snorts and nods. “Mr. Vescovi is wishing he deposited his sperm in a better uterus. He thinks he would have a more intelligent son had he chosen better.”
“Maybe he should’ve stuck his sperm up his little brother’s ass. I’m sick and fucking tired of the way this asshole bitches about my aunt. She’s a good woman,” Michael says.
Ryan looks almost pleased with Michael’s frustration.
