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He smirks. “We wanna let you go, my little dude. This is not the place for baby Bowsies. Your old man’s one thing, but you’re my brother’s buddy. You need to get going. My man Bobby B. will help you get the fuck out.”

My dad groans—or tries to speak; I can’t tell because of the tape over his mouth. I look from him to Tony, and it’s happening again. This feeling like I’m not inside my body. Like it’s not really me that says, “I can’t go until I know what this is about.”

“Your old man’s a rat,” one of the guys down in the front says. He’s some scruffy guy with a ponytail, who throws his hand up as he says it. I realize belatedly he’s brandishing a handgun.

Everything slows down another big notch. The room feels farther away.

Someone else—some random thug type to the right, says, “We can’t let him go, Di.”

Tony shakes his head like that’s just bullshit. “Bobby can watch him.”

My eyes move to Bobby—a burly guy even for this crowd.

Someone snickers: Tony’s friend Josh. “This the one on Roberto’s dick?” He walks a few rows closer to me. “What, you come to save the day?”

“See him out,” a loud voice from the front growls; I can’t tell who it belongs to.

“You can’t kill him,” my voice says.

“He’s a fucking rat, and we got no more time.” The guy behind me pulls on my sore shoulder. I twist out of his grip, gasping as stars explode in my eyes.

“Let him go! He didn’t do anything! Let him go!”

“Or what?” Tony swaggers down the aisle toward the curtain-framed stage, climbs inelegantly atop it, and yanks the strip of tape off Dad’s mouth. My dad’s eyes squeeze shut as a splotch of blood appears over his upper lip. He’s panting, and I notice for the first time how beat up he really is.

“How’d you get that fucked up face, Galante? How you ever get that fucked up face?”

Tony’s voice is easy, but I hear the latent threat—as well as his derision.

“Nobody with real balls tries to save someone who kicks their ass, eh?”

I grit my teeth. I can feel my body moving toward my dad, my legs walking like everything is okay. I stop right beside the stage.

“Dad, what’d you do?” My voice is raspy, barely whispered.

“Tell him, shoe guy,” Tony sneers. “Tell him what you did.”

Then he’s got a gun. He’s twirling a big ass revolver clumsily in his hand. Dad’s quiet, and Tony laughs. “Well, Bowsie, I guess he’ll take this one to the grave.”

“Dad.”

“Unless you wanna take his place? What do you say, Bowsie? Wanna sit in for your dad?”

“Dad, what did you fucking do?”

His blood-shot eyes flicker to mine. His eyelids are half shut and I can tell he doesn’t want to look at me—but for a second, he does. “Took some risks…and made some mistakes. I’m gonna be fine. Luca, go home to…your mother.” When I don’t move—because I can’t; my eyes have filled with tears and my whole body feels like it’s boiling—my dad jerks his chin up. “Go. Now,” he says through gritted teeth.

“I tell you what, Bowzie, I’ve got a deal you can’t turn down.” Tony gives me a shit-eating grin. “Take his place, and I won’t even off you outright. You can do roulette.” He holds up his black revolver. “Just two rounds. Good odds for you.”

Someone growls something dissenting. “Fuck you,” Tony snaps.

For a second, I feel like I’m stuck under an ocean wave. My eyes fly up and down my father, taking in what this is. The whole room feels like it’s tilting.

“Is that a real offer?” I manage.

“You want me to let him go?” Tony reaches out toward my dad, who yelps as Tony slashes through a piece of the tape with what I realize belatedly is a knife. Blood blooms on my dad’s shoulder. My heart is beating a million miles a minute and I’m sort of worried I might pass out, but somehow I look Tony in the eye and make myself nod.

“Yeah, I want you to let him go, and I’ll help figure out what happened.”

Everyone guffaws at once—a jeering laugh track that makes me cold down to the bone.

“Fuck, you got some nerve kid,” someone murmurs.

I latch my gaze onto my dad’s and don’t let go until his eyes flicker to mine. “Did you do it?”

Someone barks “Sbrigati”—telling Tony to get moving.

Tony shoves me. “Do or die, kid.” He laughs. “And by that I mean go or die.” He looks me over, his face turning serious. “Go now, Luca. Don’t be fucking stupid.”

Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I lock eyes with my dad. All I feel is love for him. I love him because he’s my dad. He’s fucked up, but he’s my dad. I don’t want to hurt him. I can’t let someone else fuck with him either.

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