by Xander Hades
“So? What the hell difference does that make? I made you an offer, Michael. Me no one else. You bristled at it, got bent out of shape about it. Imagine if you were told you’re taking the deal. No argument, just shut up and take the deal. What the hell do you think life is like for a wife in The Outfit?”
Michael waited, arms crossed. Eyes hard. “Then what was this??” he asked, gesturing to the ruined shirt lying across the stool. He sounded reasonable, like he was just asking me what wine went with veal.
“I wasn’t lying to you, Michael. I still love you. I agreed to marry Tony because he was gay. And because I could take over from him before he knew I had.”
There was an awkward silence.
I didn’t know what else to say.
Maybe he didn’t know either.
“I’m going riding day after tomorrow,” I said finally. “Come join me. Please.”
“You know I don’t trust those damn things,” Michael said shoving a hand through his hair, flustered. Frustrated. But his tone lacked conviction.
Maybe there was still hope.
“You don’t trust too much, do you?” I asked softly, feeling that tiny mend in my heart crack apart again.
“Not anymore.”
Ouch. OK, so I deserved that.
I took an unsteady breath. “Meet me at noon, Michael, come ride with me. Please.”
He didn’t answer.
There didn’t seem to be anything left to do but leave. So I left. No goodbye, no soft phrases. Maybe all we had was sex.
With a thin veneer of hope.
Chapter 9
Michael
“Michael,” Rico walked up beside me. “I did what you said, Me and Nicky and Rich, we talked a lot about the bonuses and the conditions here. It sounds like most of Dinky’s boys want to switch, but not until after Dinky retires.”
‘Retirement’ in the Outfit sometimes meant that a guy was taking it easy and wanted to be left alone. So far, so good. Most of the time, retirement meant he was not breathing. Either way, it was pretty simple. It was better to work for me than Deanna, but not better than Dominic. It threw my plans a little, but it was also a good sign. If they had no loyalty to him, they wouldn’t to me either. People that can be bought by the highest bidder can sell you out when someone comes along that would outbid you.
“They’d chose me over Deanna, but not Dom?”
Rico shrugged, for shifting awkwardly. “Dinky’s been good to them. To all of us. But that girl… she don’t know anyone’s name, don’t think she cares. Someone like that would spend lives too easily. Besides,” he nudged me, “word is out that you and she hooked up again. The boys saw her in your shirt and the marks on your back.”
“So why does that…?”
“It’s one thing to follow a woman, ok… no problem, but if she’s already with the other choice…”
“Go for the man?” I asked.
Rico lifted his hands in a ‘what can you do’ kind of gesture. “You want them or not? Don’t fight it if it gets you what you want.”
It was misogynistic, it was even wrong, but if it came to it, I needed the guys no matter what their reasons. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be under her… professionally speaking, that is… or that I didn’t trust her. It was just that I didn’t want to be under her and I didn’t trust her. I spent my whole life with the realization that I wasn’t going to be a significant figure in The Outfit and I got used to that. These past few days, though convinced me that I did want to be a part of it, the top part.
In fact, it had felt downright good.
I wasn’t going to let that slip through my fingers now.
“Something else boss, I heard that D’Angelo is talking to D’Marco…”
“So? Dom’s been dealing with him for a long time…” but Rico was shaking his head and held up a palm.
“No. Not Dinky. The girl.”
“Deanna’s been talking to Fingers D’Marco?” That was confusing. I didn’t trust her, I know she’d been a rebellious teen and trying to beat down her Daddy, but that sort of betrayal was unexpected even from her. I didn’t like the feeling I was getting from this conversation. My eyes were already squinting down and it took some real effort to block my tell though I knew Rico had already spotted it. Rico was sharp like that.
“Well, not talking. I get that she’s been trying to get him back in line.”
“How?” The word came out sharper than I’d intended, but I was liking this direction even less. Was she really that stupid? Or that brave?
“Word I heard, she did an end run around Dinky and tried to get Fingers offed. Fingers caught word of it, though and caught the men she sent.” He paused for effect. “See? She spent those men for nothing and probably don’t even know who they were.”
I had this bizarre instinct to pop him in the mouth for saying shit against a woman I didn’t trust or particularly like. I couldn’t figure out what that said about me. It didn’t help that he was probably right. Some of Dinky’s men have been around since she was a toddler and if she knows any of their names, I’ll die of shock.
In the meantime, if she did tip off Fingers, she’d stirred a hornet’s nest. Fingers wasn’t going to let that go. I began remembering bits and pieces of conversation I’d heard ages ago that I’d tuned out. Father and Tony talking about business, hell, Father talking to me about it and going in one ear and out the other.
Benny’s been a shit for years, a huge fucking splinter in the Marcotti family’s side.
“Listen, Rico, Deanna soft-soaped me into going riding with her tomorrow.”
“Sounds like fun.” A slow smile crept over his face.
“You do it then,” I nearly spit, but I was standing on carpet. “There is nothing fun or intelligent about climbing on a half-ton frightened animal and getting bucked.”
“You never been on a horse?”
“I bet on a few, that’s as close as I ever got. You?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never been bucked either.” He said. The man is fucking 12, I swear. Thing is, a few days ago, so was I. “So why are you going to do it? For the girl?”
I nodded, ready to pop him if he laughed. “For the girl.” Hell, it was me we were talking about and I was ready to laugh it all sounded so stupid.
“You know that’s crazy.”
“Yep.”
There was a long silence. Finally, Rico nodded. “I would too. She’s pretty.” His words came out kind of cautious. So help me if he was going to laugh…
“Ask around, see if you can find someone with some experience riding horses, send them to me for advice. Give me a half-hour though, I have a phone call I need to make.”
I walked into the room that was once my father’s office. It was mine now, but it still had all of his things. I sat behind the big desk that always seemed so huge when I was a child and picked up the phone.
“’Ello?”
“Hoodoo.” I can’t even say his name without smiling.
“Hey, Hitman, is that you? Wow, man been a while, what up?”
A long time ago I’d let it slip to him and Rocky that my father was part of The Outfit. I was drunk, it kinda came out. Since then they’ve taken to calling me “Hitman”. No, it’s not my official nickname, just a private running joke.
Secretly I kind of liked it. Not that they ever needed to know.
“Hey, Hoodoo, how’s gran?”
“Shoot, she made a 100 last month. Still fixin’ them tourists too, man. Even at her age, she still got ‘em eatin’ from her hand, you know.”
“She’s 100 years old?” I was impressed. “Tell her I said hey, I’ll send her a belated gift.”
“Good, she likes you.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
Hoodoo’s grandmother was Mamma Leona. She was one of the most famous voodoo high priestesses in New Orleans. She was also a fake. She played with snakes and sold mineral water to tourists. They couldn’t get enough of her. The reason she liked me was that Ho
odoo told her that I was in The Outfit and her Daddy ran ‘shine that outfitted Capone’s speakeasies. When Capone retired the Marcottis and D’Angelos took over the business, paying top dollar for them to keep doing what they were doing. Hoodoo’s family made a shit load of money off of us and bought themselves into a fair amount of respectability, so long as you didn’t scratch too hard at the surface.
I met Momma Leona back that summer I didn’t go home, back when I was trying to get over Deanna. Here she was about four-foot-nothing, a little wizened old woman straight out of Hansel and Gretel and she’d got me on my knees bawling like a baby because she predicted that my bad breakup wasn’t going to be forever and that the Chicago girl had been lying through her teeth to protect me. I’d be in awe right up until I found out Hoodoo had told her every last detail about me, giving her enough ammunition to make me think she was some kind of rare psychic the entire time I was there. When he finally broke down and told me what he had done I’d about killed him.
But I’d like Momma Leona and after a while, I had to admit the joke had been a good one. And had made me really stop and think about what I’d wanted. From that day forward I’d sworn off Deanna and despite the fact that she’d tried to call me several times, it had given me the strength to finally throw my phone into the bayou and be done with her.
We’d spent some long nights telling stories after the sun went down. Momma Leona had good ones, back from the days of Prohibition. She told me she remembered riding on the barrels on her Daddy’s truck and for a moment, she looked like a happy little girl again. It made me like her, as I pictured this scrappy little girl swaying to the music in speakeasies while her Daddy talked business with men whose names would someday become legend.
“Hoodoo, I got a favor to ask.”
“Anything fo’ the Hitman.”
“There’s a guy down in your area, Benny ‘Fingers’ D’Marco.”
“Yeaup, I know him. Everybody knows him. He don’t like the local stuff, gets all his from the city folk.”
“Hoodoo? Is your family business back in action?”
There was a long silence. “So what you want with the Fingers?”
Ok, I’ll let him have that one. “See if you can track him for me. I might need a big favor on short notice. Your people still around you?”
“Yeah, man, but come next month we’re heading north for a bit, then west. So… end of October, Il be seeing Rocky.”
“Cool, tell him hello for me.”
“Fingers is easy to track, bro, just tell me what you want and when. You got it.”
“Thanks, man. Call me if you need anything too, right? I don’t think I told you, my father’s dead.”
“I heard, man. Sorry. Your bro is now the big man?”
“Nope, he died too.”
“No shit. So sorry.” There was a slight hesitation. “…does that mean…”
“Yeaup” I purposely imitated his accent. “I’m the big one now.”
Hoodoo started laughing. A lot. Uncontrollable belly laughing. I could picture him, the man I knew, a giant, bodybuilder, long hair, full beard, leather jacket and steel toe boots. He looked like a bronzed god, but when he laughed, I thought his head would explode.
“Man!” he cried out, “You got stuck with the whole!” And he went off into peals of laughter again. I hung up. No goodbyes, nothing. I knew that would keep him going for another hour at least.
Hell even I was chuckling, right up until Marty showed up looking smug. “Hey boss, What do you want to know about horses?”
Chapter 10
Michael
“I had them find the slowest, steadiest horse they could find,” Deanna said by way of greeting. I looked at the wall of flesh the groomsman was leading with a bit of resignation. It must have showed on my face. Deanna laughed. “Why the long face?” She thought it was hilarious.
“Is there an elevator?” I was looking at the stirrup. I knew it was a stirrup because Marty had pounded the basic terminology into my head. He had neglected to tell me that said stirrup would be higher than my balls. The top of the beast was at my chin, and I’m a very tall man. All I had to do, apparently, was lift my foot above my balls, slide it into a narrow passage and fling myself over the back of the horse.
Presuming the horse didn’t move while I was doing all that. Said horse was looking at me every bit as skeptically as I was looking at it.
The groomsman brought out what looked suspiciously like a step stool. It was cheap and plastic and looked like something a kid would use to get up on the horse. It was bright pink and had two steps up. In theory, all I had to do was climb the stairs and sit myself right down.
Great. As if I didn’t look like a raw beginner already.
The problem was, my leg wasn’t lifting and my hopping around on one foot wasn’t making me appear any more dignified. After another stupid attempt during which Deanna put her hand over her mouth in a cough that suspiciously sounded a lot more contemptuous, I finally stomped up the steps. Now I only had to lift my foot as high as my kneecap and swing onto the back. Less dignified, but so much better.
The ground looked an awfully long way away.
I stared between the twitching grey ears, reorienting myself to the world from this high up. All in all, it wasn’t a bad feeling once you got used to it. Kind of like when you played King of the Mountain as a kid, where being the highest up on the rock pile gave you a certain superiority.
I was even warming to the horse who stood with his head down, looking for all the world like he’d gone to sleep. I cautiously put a hand out to touch the dappled neck. The horse was smooth as satin and warm to the touch. Alive. “What’s his name?”
Deanna looked at me like I’d grown gills. “Name? You’re not entering into a contract, Michael, it’s a horse. You don’t need to spend much time in conversation.”
“Gus,” the groomsman said quietly and patted the monster’s neck.
“Gus?” I asked, he nodded. “Is that his name or yours?”
“His” the man smiled, and moved to adjust my stirrups.
“Why are your eyes narrowing?” Deanna asked. She grabbed a handful of mane and swung up on its back in a single motion so smooth, the horse took three steps before it registered that she was on him.
I don’t trust you? I’m still unsure about being on a horse? I’m stressed? “Are they?” I tried to blow it off, deliberately looking at her, letting her read what she would.
“They are. Now, what’s on your twisted little mind?” She probably thought she was being cute. She was wrong.
“What do you call your horse when you want him to move?”
“Her.” Corrected the groomsman. Realizing he’d corrected a guest, he bowed briefly and clamped his lips shut, moving to the other side to do whatever mysterious thing to the stirrup that he’d just done on the left.
“Alright then,” I said, “What do you call her when you want her to move or slow down?”
Deanna gave a half-laugh. “I just tell it to. That’s all you have to know.”
She may have been the expert between us, but I saw the way the groomsman rolling his eyes. He hid it well and I could have gotten him fired for it, but that eye-roll taught me almost as much as three hours with Marty. And was less painful.
Seeing that miss high and mighty was already turning her horse toward the trail and had her back to us, the groom leaned in to give me a whisper of advice. “He’ll follow her,” he said, pointing to the horse Deanna was on. He might have been pointing at Deanna for all I knew. “Just let him go where he wants and at his own pace… he’ll keep up.”
I thanked him and tapped my feet into his flanks. Marty told me to do that. I swore that I’d later kill Marty when the horse jumped and slammed my teeth together. The groom grabbed for the reins, giving me a look with such censure in it, that I knew I’d fucked up bad. Our eyes met. I sighed, mentally apologizing as he helped me rearrange the reins and then led poor Gus in the direction of the trail, giv
ing him a smart slap on the ass to keep him going once he’d let go.
Sure enough, it (he) seemed content to plod along after the brown horse carrying Deanna off into who knew what wilds.
Today she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. The jeans were so tight I could have sworn they’d been painted on. I didn’t blame Gus a bit for following that.
Chapter 11
Michael
She walked her horse, I assumed that it was for my benefit. Gus seemed to be content to follow along, but I was gripping the top of the saddle with both hands. Marty told me that a horse was sensitive about the reins so if I was going to grab something in a panic, the saddle was better.
I just let the reins hang and hoped that she would be too busy with her own horse to notice.
Deanna slowed her horse and mine wandered over to them to see what was going on. I think he got bored with me sitting there like so much baggage and was trying to find something interesting to do.
She gave me a look as I came up and I realized just how childish I looked. I grabbed at the reins, keeping them loose in my hands, trying to look like I’d just put them down for a second.
I don’t think she bought it.
“Michael.” Deanna looked around. I got the idea she was trying to not be overheard. We were in the middle of a huge field that the horses were busily working on trimming. There was no one within earshot, unless you were counting rabbits and mice. We would have seen them.
