Tara led them through the restaurant, past the patrons who were there for a decent meal. Luciano wanted to tell them to get out, to find a better restaurant. He wanted to torch the building and bury the past. Instead, he steeled his spine and followed the hostess.
She walked into the back room, stepped aside so they could enter. His cousin was smoking a cigar and playing pool with someone while a few people watched. Luciano released a string of obscenities under his breath. He couldn’t believe how damnlazy his cousin was. His hands tightened into fists he wanted to launch at Willie Boy’s stupid fucking face.
“Hey, cousins,” Willie Boy said. “What do I owe the honor?” The second Simone came into view, he sucked his stomach in.
Luciano swallowed down a laugh.
“Yo, I remember you, pretty lady. Simone, right? I never forget a hot chick or a super-rad name.”
“That’s some talent you’ve got,” Simone bit out.
“Tara, get them drinks,” Willie Boy barked.
“How ‘bout some beer?” Tara asked.
They declined, and Tara left, shutting the door behind her.
“Gentlemen, I need a word with my cousin,” Luciano said.
“Ah, Jesus,” Willie Boy said. “I got money riding on this game, Lulu, and I’m finally winning. If you knew how much I’m in the hole?—”
Luciano glared at his cousin. “Now.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Don’t get your panties in a fucking wad.” Willie Boy shooed the men out, then sat at his usual table, like he was holding court.
“I’ve got a problem,” Luciano said, “and family help family, right?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, of course. What’s going on?” Willie Boy drained his glass of beer, then shouted for Tara.
“Dante never called me,” Luciano said.
“Sit,” Willie Boy said.
He sat across from Willie Boy. Simone eased down to his left, Teddy sat to his right.
“Call Dante,” Luciano said.
“I told you, I don’t have his number.”
“Dante’s a dangerous killer,” Luciano said. “Did you know that?”
“I know he’s done that kinda thing before.” Willie Boy wiped the perspiration from his brow with his sleeve.
“Break his finger,” Luciano said to Teddy.
Simone tensed. It was subtle, but even in the dimly-lit room, he could see her back stiffen.
Teddy shoved out of his chair so hard, it hit the floor behind him.
“Happy to,” Teddy replied. “Whad’ya say WB? Should I start with the pinky? It’s such a defenseless little finger. Or I could start with your thumb, which, technically, isn’t a finger, but that would fuck up your day pretty good, huh?”
Luciano leaned back. He loved watching Teddy. Everything with Teddy was larger than life, a damn performance. He would have already broken Willie Boy’s finger and would have him pinned against the wall.
But everyone did torture differently.
“Fuck, no!” Willie Boy screamed. “I don’t have his number and he hasn’t been by. What do you want from me?”
“The truth,” Luciano said. “How do you know him?”
