Authors: S. W. Frank
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Hispanic, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #International Mystery & Crime, #Hispanic American
No brainer –right?
Maybe incarceration is a BDSM fantasy for some guys who use jail as an excuse for why they’re gay, Emilio thought.
Anyway, logic is hard to come by for the
stupid; some people have brains that don’t work right. It’s similar to the defective engine in the body of a car.
That’s why Emilio didn’t carry a gun. He already had a juvie record. Get hauled in court for a crime, be Latino, a car thief slash
burglar who was found strapped. The writing’s on the wall, ‘aint it?
No pussy –long time unless that’s the hidden desire in the first place.
Recovering the cell wasn’t the most urgent of his tasks, the urgent part he completed less than an hour ago. He’d never tell Jessica or anybody except his Boss.
Smart gadgets can lessen the work load and increase efficiency. The old days of cutting fuel lines to cars had become outdated. Auto hacking requires the know-how and expensive tools, but when a person has the hook-up, one-two-three, the job’s completed.
Emilio overrode his target’s computer system and the driver’s commands. He took remote control of the steering wheel, disabled the brakes and sent the vehicle into the path of a truck barreling down Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn. The software and other equipment he used to eliminate a family problem were promptly returned to the supplier.
Now he had the cell.
In and out.
That’s how high-tech thieves operate.
No mess.
No dramatic.
Besides, Jessica phoned, she had begun cramping and he needed to get his ass home, no excuses.
A deal’s a deal.
Emilio kept his promises.
C
hapter Twenty-Seven
A refreshing bath, Anita’s cooking and then a nap to reboot is what Alfonzo had in mind when the vehicle pulled in front of his door. Those things might’ve happened except he was met at the door not by the usual loving welcome of his wife or kids but an adult brute of a brother.
“You fucking cazzo!” Giuseppe shouted when he entered the door of his home where cars belonging to others had taken residence in his absence.
“Buongiorno to you too motherfucker.”
Anita could not have heard their language or else she may have intervened. She was in the laundry room, assisting guests who hadn’t asked for her help but she gave anyway because she didn’t want the sisters breaking the intricate machines.
Alfonzo walked by Giuseppe to hit the kitchen.
The heavy footsteps followed along with the bass of an annoyance. “What happened to your face stupido, did you lose the fight?”
“I fell,” Alfonzo said as he reached the kitchen. Giuseppe knew what happened because Nico told him –smartass.
Alfonzo eyed the pot on the stove, lifted the lid and hot damn, Anita prepared exactly what he needed. Gracias Anita for the sancocho.
Ah mami, that’s what I’m talking about...authentic food.
“Do not think to protect me like a donna again fratellino, capisce?”
Alfonzo used the ladle to slurp up the hearty beef stew, ignoring Giuseppe.
Um, that’s good.
“Do not interfere with my mama in the future. She is my concern not yours and this shit she has married now has the title of step-pa because of you stronzo!” Giuseppe continued with belligerence. “You have overstepped your authority and forget who I am cazzo!”
Alfonzo let the utensil drop. It clanged against the side of the pot. See, this is the shit Giuseppe pulled and didn’t know when to quit.
He heard the motherfucker, understood his anger, but once he started poking out his chest with this Don nonsense, Alfonzo always saw red.
Brother faced brother, which at times occurs when discourse sprouts its inevitable horns. Seniority against youth, influence stared down strength. A disagreement on a course of action is what stood between formidable men. Who reigns in these times when family should be equal, who balls the fist and strikes another’s ego to splinters –who?
Alfonzo shattered the bullshit to smithereens.
“Your problem pendejo is you have to shout who you are and I don’t. Without a title you’re nothing but an insecure motherfucker!”
Giuseppe seized Alfonzo’s shirt and received a groan.
“Ugh, shit Geo, my rib!”
Giuseppe tugged him forward taking advantage of the wounded and Alfonzo became pissed. “Let go you sonovabitch!”
Giuseppe snarled in his face. “That is why you were nearly killed cazzo. You want to do things your way but talk about unity. You could have died and then I would have to care for my nipoti and hear them cry for their papa.” Giuseppe twisted his fists in Alfonzo’s shirt, breaking the buttons, making him listen. “You do not have the right to endanger yourself and leave others to mourn your arrogance!”
“Geo –f
ermare adesso!” Amelda exclaimed when she entered to witness her brother’s assault on an obviously wounded fratello.
Amelda beat at Giuseppe’s hands until he released Alfonzo who had not fought back in defense which was customary between the boys. A woman’s wisdom told her he was not well or had deep troubles worse than their bully brother. Amelda shrieked “What is wrong with you fratello, are you blind, he is hurt?” She looked around before she asked Alfonzo who suddenly came alive and tugged free with a growl. “Is Selange, is she with you?”
“No,” Alfonzo answered as he glared menacingly at Giuseppe.
“Where is she…where is she?” Amelda wailed in panic.
Alfonzo stretched his chest to inhale more air. Giuseppe was not stable, seriously. “She’s in jail Amelda!” He managed to answer.
“No…no…no…I should have stopped her…instead I did not!”
“What are you talking about?” Alfonzo asked. He heard what happened with Matteo and assumed her husband hadn’t shared his dual life; why else would Amelda knife the sucker?
“Teresa…she went to see Teresa…that bitch I will kill her!” Amelda swore aloud.
The brother’s glanced at each other, one’s eyebrow climbed, the other’s nostril flared. Amelda killed her husband, they were both aware of how brutally and foresaw dual funerals.
And then Giuseppe after a momentary playback said, “Selange is imprisoned?” He could not imagine a bird in a vulture’s nest and the fucker chuckled. “I need pictures of the donna in
jail; I will pay for the images?”
Alfonzo scowled at Giuseppe and stormed out the kitchen. This was a loco family. Amelda was scary and Giuseppe equally deranged, but he loved them.
Currently he required a bed before he keeled over. His body had become extremely weak. In a way he was relieved when Giuseppe grabbed hold of his shirt when he did because Alfonzo had experienced dizziness and the pendejo actually kept him from hitting the floor.
“Do not be mad fratellino, we must work together as a whole, remember?”
“Bésame culo!” Alfonzo shouted when he gripped tightly to the banister and slowly willed his legs to climb the mountain of stairs.
He didn’t know what to expect when he reached his bedroom, Carlo curled in a fetal position sucking his thumb
, and a large pitbull at the foot of an intact bed certainly wasn’t. Exhausted he kicked off his shoes and lay beside his nephew, and clutched the child tightly as if he were his son. Man, if anything had happened to the boy, ah, he hated to think about the devastating toll it would have had on their family.
His eyes closed.
Tomorrow was a new day.
Today he was utterly grateful to have made it home.
C
hapter Twenty-Eight
Sitting in the dark, staring at a wall as everyone sleeps might be a sign that a person’s troubled. For Ari, she sensed the tension in Nico’s body when he slipped out of bed with a restless sigh. She lay there for a moment and then decided to follow.
Nico didn’t turn
around; he heard her, smelled her sweet scent and knew his wife was there. “I didn’t mean to wake you Ari.”
She walked to where he sat like an Indian on the floor in his PJ bottoms and shirtless. How does he stay so fit, she wondered?
Ari copied his pose. They were two Indian’s seated now. “What’s on your mind?”
“Losing you,” he answered honestly.
“You’re not losing me, I’m sitting beside you.”
“I prefer death than to hurt you anymore.”
“Nico, please, don’t talk like that. You have children who love you, I love you and I’m stronger than you think sweetheart. Tell me why you believe you’re going to lose me.”
“Bianca’s pregnant.”
The silence was as heavy as the dark for a long time.
“Were you still seeing her after your mother died?”
“No.”
“Do you love her?”
“No.”
“Do you love me?”
“With my soul Ari.”
“Nico, you and I have weathered some serious storms. Sometimes people looking in to our life might question why I stay. I won’t try to explain to anybody the nature of our relationship because it’s really between you and me. I accepted who you were back when. Sure I’ve changed since then, but whew sweetheart, you have too, for the better. I never told you this, but Bianca called to tell me she was leaving town months ago. I suspected that might be the reason but I hoped it wasn’t. She apologized to me and sounded genuinely heartbroken about what happened. I didn’t want to hear her out, but out of curiosity I did and she told me how your mom tricked you two into having sex. Of course it doesn’t make what happened excusable but it does tell me you didn’t initiate an affair.
I’m not going to lie sweetheart, but I believe any woman you fuck is going to come back for seconds, it's really good.”
“I’m done with my old ways Ari. I’m not that man anymore
…you’re all I need.”
“Okay, you have me now back to bed and stop beating yourself up. Like you’ve told me, what’s done is done, but it’s what we do
from here on that matter.” She sighed. “Look, I’m not ready to be nobody’s goddamn Nana but I am. The same applies to this child between you and Bianca –if it’s yours. Right now let’s not jump too far ahead until we’re certain and then we visit how to tell the boys, okay?”
Ari stood and extended her arm. This was his
painting; she was pulling him out of another black pit. He clasped hold to his wife’s fingers. He gripped her hand and rose.
Words?
Why speak?
Why state the obvious?
He lucked-up with a wonderful woman that he never wanted to lose.
He’d rather die.
***
Yosef couldn’t sleep.
Prison.
War.
A double cross.
The small uncomfortable bed was responsible, too.
He sat up, looked over at Sophie and found her watching him intently.
“You married a girl to get out of jail?”
His voice contained a gravel sound. “I did what I had to do.”
“What else have you had to do, Yosef?”
He rubbed his bandaged neck. Lies came easy. “Nothing.”
“Have you used me as well?”
“No Sophie. This is real.”
“My famiglia bleeds, is this your doing?”
“It is not,” he stated emphatically because it wasn’t but he knew the culprit.
“Do not lie to me Yosef. I have lived with many secrets for decades. I also can smell lies. Either you trust me or die.”
“You threaten Mafiya.”
“I threaten a uomo.”
He kicked his legs over the side of the girl’s bed with the silly colorful flowers. “Death comes to us all Sophie Glavovitz, you and I share a burning bed.”
“Then our corpses will be the tinder that sparks an inferno.” She produced a gun and pointed at his heart. “Tell me Yosef, the truth, ora!”
“There are men within every organization who wish to ascend.”
“Names cazzo!”
“Names?” Yosef chuckled. “There are too many.”
“Matteo, was he one of these many?”
“The Peglesi boy was only a peon. His gambling opened the door for his troubles, thus he became indebted to others. The person who came to end my life is the equivalent of
a Capo. His name does not matter. I will deal with him personally. Who he has bargained with to kill us all is a name I do not know, but I will find out.” Yosef sneered. “Shoot me and the family you speak of so highly of dies.”