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Mobster Series Anniversary Edition

Page 32

by Amy Rachiele


  We quickly say our hellos, and I rush directly to Erin’s room. She is on the bed enfolded in Vito’s arms; her head is against his chest. She is silently crying. I cautiously sit on the bed next to them and brush the hair out of her eyes. My sister again seems fragile, like a porcelain doll.

  I am guarded by what I should say. Her behavior has been so erratic when it comes to these types of things happening. She spent thirteen years not having to deal with it, and now, unfortunately, scares like this are a constant fixture in our lives with only short reprieves.

  A soft knock on the door jam. Doc Howie comes in. He checks her pulse, and Vito shifts Erin so that Doc can listen to her heart. His expression is unreadable.

  “Ennio would like to speak to you,” he says to her tenderly.

  Suddenly, a voice I recognize travels through the main room. My father! I have mixed feelings when I see him. I’m angry that he hasn’t kept in touch with us or even contacted Erin on her birthday. But at the same time, I miss him. That twinge consumes me as I walk directly to him and encircle my arms around his waist, hugging him to me. He leans down and kisses the top of my head. That fatherly gesture releases some of my anger.

  After all, the phone goes two ways. I could’ve called him. But a niggling voice in the back of my head stops me...a whisper that reminds me what he is probably doing. I’m not really sure why I can easily accept the lifestyle from Antonio, but not my father. I’m certain it has something to do with the fact that I’ve always known Antonio’s legacy and decided I wanted him anyway. My father lied blatantly for years and years.

  “Why don’t we all sit down?” Ennio suggests.

  I release my dad and feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my head...everything in the world that makes life worth living is standing there beside with love shining in his eyes. Antonio takes my hand and leads me to the table, and we all sit down. Clarissa is quiet.

  “Clarissa is going to a boarding school for the next semester. It is very safe there. Many influential people and A-list celebrities send their children there,” Ennio rushes out. He must think that running his words together quickly will lessen the blow.

  Tension starts in my neck and runs all the way down to my toes. They’re sending her away! That’s why my father’s here. Antonio brought this up before, but I thought the idea had been forgotten. Antonio squeezes my hand reassuringly. I already know his opinion on the subject.

  “Doesn’t that cost a lot of money?” I ask.

  “Don’t worry about that,” my father rumbles. I suddenly realize lately that my parents must have been squirreling away the blood money he’s made over the years. I’ve never seen any of it, that’s for sure. We have lived very frugally for as long as I can remember.

  My biggest objection is that I won’t be there with her. It is an unbelievable opportunity, and she will be with Clarissa...but I can’t help having an issue with losing some control. I glance over at Clarissa, she has an unreadable expression. Maybe she doesn’t want my sister to go with her?

  “It seems as though this has already been decided,” I say quietly. Clarissa stiffens, and I reach out a hand and place it on top of hers. “If you don’t want Erin to go with you, maybe there is another school she can go to...one that is just as good...just as safe?”

  “Why would you think I wouldn’t want her to go with me? I have been so afraid that you wouldn’t want her to go. I am so excited that I won’t be alone, I can hardly contain myself,” Clarissa says earnestly. Her face brightens.

  “If everyone thinks it’s the best thing...I just want my sister to be happy and safe...to get past all of this,” I say.

  Ennio and Clarissa are obviously pleased. Clarissa claps her hands in delight. My father is exactly the same as he was when the conversation started...unmoving and stoic.

  “I’m going to be sending Joey with them as added security,” Ennio continues. “Even though the school is a fortress, most attendees bring their own security.”

  It is obvious by the way everyone is speaking that they were expecting a fight from me. But I could never take anything away from my sister. I agree with all of them that it could be just what she needs. It gives me a great deal of relief to know she will be with Clarissa...even more to know that Joey will be there, as well. My father gets up and goes to Erin’s room.

  Antonio kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear, “You’re doing the right thing.”

  Thirty seconds later, Vito storms out of Erin’s room. His face is chiseled into a frown. With fists clenched at his side, he walks straight out the door into the hallway, leaving. Antonio follows him.

  “Now that that is settled, I need to get back down to the casino.” Ennio says his goodbyes, and it’s just Clarissa and I left in the room.

  “I can’t wait! It is going to be so much fun!” Clarissa squeals.

  A few short moments later my father comes back out.

  “She’s sleeping,” he says quietly as he approaches me and hovers over my chair. “Come with me,” he orders. As we walk by the kitchen counter, I notice two new cell phones that weren’t there before. “Those are for the two of you,” my father scratches out.

  I stand frozen in place, unsure of what this is about. The awkwardness between us is palpable. We have had no parental supervision in weeks. Basically, we’ve been living on our own with the generosity and company of Clarissa’s family. My father motions me out into the hallway.

  As we exit the suite, Antonio and Vito are in a heated close-knit conversation. They abruptly stop talking when they see us. Antonio sends me a half smile, but Vito won’t even look our way. His head is hanging. Hair drops down around his cheeks, his appearance is crestfallen. Antonio doesn’t ask any questions as my father and I get on the elevator...he just watches us leave. I don’t even have the courage to ask my father where we are going, but I don’t need to wonder for long as he presses the button for the basement.

  The enforcer area has cleaned out since the mayhem earlier. My father takes me over to the door that houses Gilly, who is there looking healthier than he did an hour ago.

  “Hey, Gilly...how are you feeling?” I ask.

  “Much better, thank you,” he says in a chipper tone. “How are you doing, Patrick?”

  That is an interesting tidbit. He knows my father. Well, I guess, in a way, Gilly knows everybody. I suppose my father does, too.

  “Fine,” my father clips off.

  The firing range has been cleaned thoroughly. The remnants of ammonia invade my nose. Not one drop of blood remains. I am numb to the whole thing right now, which must be a defense mechanism. When these types of things happen, there’s a disconnect between my body and my brain. My soul takes over...like it knows exactly what to do. It sends signals to my body to protect itself. Self-preservation and defense rule me. Fight, flight, or freeze...I fight.

  I take a deep breath and ask “How’s Mom?” I want to know the answer to this more than I care about what we’re doing down here.

  “A little lonely without you girls,” he says unemotionally.

  “Why doesn’t she call us?” I hated the sound of the pleading in my voice. It gives the impression that I’m needy or weak, and I don’t want anyone to feel that way about me...especially my father.

  He loads a gun I’ve never seen before. It’s small and black. He doesn’t look at me when he talks. “I told her not to.”

  “Why?!”

  “It’s better for everybody. The less your mother knows, the safer it is for her...and you. Hasn’t that boyfriend of yours taught you anything?”

  “She could’ve called us, Dad!” I yell at him, my temper rising. “The phones are secure. You and Antonio use phones,” I admonish. “I had a phone in South Bend.”

  “You can talk to your mother when Tutti is put down. I just gave you new phones, use them wisely.”

  “What about Luigi Prazzo?” I ask. Antonio speaks about them as though they are a package deal. My father does not even look at me during this entire conver
sation as he loads and checks the gun.

  “He’s already dead,” my father says with absolutely no emotion.

  I want to suck in a breath and think, How horrific! But I can’t. Only thought that runs through my mind...One down, one to go.

  Chapter 9

  On Ice: Dead!

  Antonio:

  Zee managed to give us important information before he got fucking loose. While he spilled his shit about Prazzo, I already knew that he was dead. Patrick had already got him and surprisingly gave me the details. No one will ever find Luigi Prazzo unless they decide to take down the new high-rise over on Lexington.

  The important intel he gave us was about Uncle Tutti...the only one left. Zee put up a fight but we convinced him to talk. Tutti’s men have been hijacking tractor-trailer trucks all over Illinois, selling the stolen goods on the black market. Following the routes and tracing them back is the best way for us to trap him. Figures Tutti would be doing shit like this...hijacking and fencing stolen property is a low form of organized crime.

  Afterwards, we dropped Zee on the doorstep of the family he defected from. Literally...we threw him on the sidewalk. Let them deal with him.

  It will be a relief when this is all over. Maybe we can go back to school and finish out our senior year, although Megan probably doesn’t even need to do that. Lucia has been tutoring her, and, with all the credits she already had, her diploma is as good as being in her hand. I would love to take Megan on a vacation. A real one this time. Anywhere she wants to go.

  *****

  Antonio:

  Vito is a live wire. He says he’s just pissed because Patrick was an asshole to him. He’s lying. He could give two shits if Patrick acted like a jackass to him. I didn’t mention the discussions of sending Erin with Clarissa to boarding school. I wasn’t sure it was going to happen, and I never let my suspicions sink in regarding his feelings toward Erin. It’s hard for me to see her in that way because of her age...and the fact that I only have eyes for one person. But Vito has done an excellent job of taking care of Erin. She has been a difficult responsibility. The combination of her volatile emotions and reactionary behavior has been a cross we’ve all had to bear. I wish I knew a way to help him deal.

  I’m hesitant to take him with me to the meeting tonight. His explosive mood could really be a problem. If Demetrius is there, that will only add fuel to the deadly fire already burning.

  Back at the hotel, we change and head to the car. The meeting is at the same place, so we don’t rush. We know how to get there.

  I smoke my cigarette as we had out towards Charleton Street.

  “Dude, you okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Fine.”

  “Keep your cool tonight. Don’t go fucking oobatz on me. I need your head on straight,” I order. I toss my cigarette out the window as we park and walk over to the building. I rap on the metal door, and the chain rattles lifting it, just like the last time we were here. The meeting place looks exactly the same except the makeshift boxing ring is gone.

  Pop and Donny are here. They have been staying at a high-end hotel in downtown. One of Pop’s colleagues owns it. Pop had been promising to visit forever...these unfortunate events gave him just the opportunity.

  Demetrius is standing behind Don Furlotti’s chair. He nods at me to follow him. Vito visibly tenses when he sees Demetrius.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” I say. Vito must be watching me because I can feel his eyes on my back. With certain things Vito can hide his emotions extremely well...with others they run right at the surface ready to implode.

  Demetrius and I stand in the shadows of the corner away from everyone else. “Three a.m., dockside on Elm,” he tells me in a brute command.

  I nod and walk back to Vito.

  Everyone seems to have assembled that needs to be here. There have been no problems with the alliance over the past few days. Negotiations are going forward. Don Furlotti calls everyone to order, and we all take a seat. Chairs scrape along the cement and the talking dies down. First order of business is to mention the death of Luigi Prazzo.

  “The first defector, Luigi Prazzo, no longer remains among the living,” Mr. Furlotti announces. “As for Tutti, attempts are still being made by Don Delisi’s son to find him.”

  It is my duty and obligation, as assigned by my father, to take care of Uncle Tutti. I relish the opportunity after what he attempted to do to Megan and Pop.

  "If there is no new business, we will proceed with the alliance,” Don Furlotti finishes.

  Pop stands with Don Furlotti, each at the head of the table. Donny stands as well, as he is the capo. He takes a switchblade out of his pocket and it clicks open. Don Furlotti’s capo does the same. An incision is made on Pop’s and Mr. Furlotti’s fingers. Per the ritual, each Don meets in the middle and solidifies the alliance in a blood bond. An enforcer I don’t know steps forward with rosary beads and a picture of St. Francis of Assisi. He drapes the rosary beads over their adjoined hands and places the picture underneath them. A bond is formed through blood and family. Bottles of Chianti are opened, and wine glasses are passed around. Pop makes a toast.

  “To our new family members, thank you. It is an honor to become one with you. Salute!” Pop raises his glass and everyone follows. A chorus of salute bounces off the walls.

  The meeting breaks up, and the group seems pretty content with what went down. This alliance benefits everyone. Demetrius stares at me coldly, and I shrug it off.

  “How are things going, Tonio?” Pop asks me as we step into a private corner.

  “I am making some headway. Hopefully, I will have everything taken care of in a week or so.”

  Pop affectionately taps my shoulder. “Your mom misses you. We look forward to having you back at home.” He pats my face with his palm. “You’re a good boy.”

  “Are you leaving tonight?” I ask.

  “Yes. I have a meeting with Sommersville very soon.”

  “How’s that been going?”

  “Now that Tutti took off, they don’t have the backbone. Everything’s falling back into place...like it used to be.”

  I see Donny waiting for Pop. Pop pulls me in for a tight hug. “Love you,” he says. “We have to go.” I hug him back.

  “Love you too, Pop. See you soon,” I tell him.

  Vito’s disposition is marginally better as we get back in the car.

  “That went well,” I comment.

  He shrugs his shoulders noncommittally.

  “What did Demetrius say?” he asks in a low tone. I am surprised at Vito. He knows I’m not supposed to discuss it. I don’t respond right away. “I don’t trust him,” he adds. “I’m not trying to break any code; I’m just looking out for you.”

  “I know,” I sigh.

  We sit in silence. The hum of the motor and the softened radio are the only sounds.

  “Have to go tonight at three a.m.” If I can’t answer these types of questions with Vito, then there is absolutely no one. Someday, he’ll be my head enforcer. He was born and bred for it.

  *****

  Antonio:

  I catch a couple of hours sleep before I have to meet Demetrius. Vito is snoring loudly, sucking the air out of the room. I take a quick shower attempting to wake myself up and throw on some old jeans, a T-shirt, and a jacket. I grab my keys off the nightstand.

  I arrive at the docks and let the car roll along slowly in the darkness. I don’t see Demetrius, but I’m a little bit early. I am well-prepared, with a semi-automatic rifle stuffed under the driver’s seat and a glock in the back of my jeans.

  Being part of a crime family, you would think that crimes wouldn’t bother me, but they do. I find it easy to shrug off what my father does...those people know what they’re getting themselves into. People who take part in gambling and money-laundering are typically their own victims. If they can’t pay or get in to deep, it’s their own problem, their own fault. But shit like drugs and racketeering, those things create more faceless
victims than I ever care to think about...Pop would tell me not to think. Don’t think, just do.

  A black Camaro pulls up next to me, its windows tinted. Leaning forward in my seat, I reach into the back of my jeans and pull out my glock, holding it below the steering wheel...ready for anything. The window rolls down on the car next to me, and Demetrius leans over the seat.

  “Follow me,” he says brusquely.

  I hold my gun in one hand and steer with the other as I follow him down the thin road and out behind a crumbling brick building. Parking next to him, I wait for him to get out first. He slams his car door, and I notice his hands are empty, so I put my gun back in my pants and get out.

  Each time I am in Demetrius’s company, I am reminded of his sordid and violent past. His impulsiveness and disregard for the rules makes him two things - feared by the underworld...and a target.

  “Come on,” Demetrius says and waves for me to follow him.

  I do.

  Side-by-side we walk into the rundown building through a dilapidated steel door. The misshapen door has been kicked numerous times and now it bows ungracefully. It is dark inside with only a few streetlamps casting shadows and illuminating certain areas. It is hard to see in the dimness, but I can smell decaying fish and mold. It is overpowering, and I cover my nose with the sleeve of my jacket, trying to get relief from the foulness.

  A figure steps out of the shadows. I brace myself preparing to attack if necessary.

  “Do you got the stuff?” a scared voice asks.

  “Yeah. Do you?” Demetrius says bitingly.

  Paper rustles and the unknown person steps forward, handing a package to Demetrius.

  He opens it gradually saying in a low tone, “You better not try to fuck me.”

  The guy in front of us is visibly shaking. That’s not good. That’s just as bad as someone like Demetrius. This guy could start going crazy...do something stupid. I train my eyes on the guy, watching carefully his every move.

 

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