Page 24 of Thin Lives

“Rough?” Calisto supplied.

“I guess that’s a good enough word as any. Are you sure you’re supposed to be sharing punches with your head and all?”

“Exercise is healthy. This is exercise.”

Gio shook his head, chuckling. “Not what I asked.”

“I just …” Calisto trailed off, scowling as he glanced around the gym and the people watching. He hadn’t even known about the place when Gio called him earlier in the day, asking if he could meet up. But apparently, according to Gio, he and Calisto had been coming to this gym for nearly two years at least a couple of times a month if they could spare the time.

“Spit it out,” Gio demanded.

“I want to feel normal for five minutes. I haven’t felt okay in a long while.”

Gio quieted for a stretch of time before he said, “Getting your ass kicked feels normal to you?”

Maybe.

Calisto couldn’t really explain it, but despite how he didn’t know the gym or the cage, and he couldn’t even remember spending any time with Gio here, it did feel familiar.

Somehow

“It’s a part of that two and half years,” Calisto said vaguely, offering little else.

Gio seemed to understand. “All right. Can we chat a bit of business first?”

Now, Calisto was a little shocked to hear that come out of his old friend’s mouth. Very rarely over the years did Calisto and Gio talk la famiglia when they spent time together. It was like an off-limits zone that they didn’t even have to acknowledge, but was simply just there.

“What kind of business?” Calisto asked.

Gio rapped his fingers to his side, leaning against the cage. “Dante is getting irritated about the mess your uncle caused with the Irish. It’s spilled over into our territory, and the Calabrese.”

Dante Marcello could be a difficult man to handle when he was in a mood. It was one of the things Calisto liked best about the fact he wasn’t the boss. When shit happened between families, Affonso was the one who needed to deal with it, not Calisto.

“It’s been ongoing for a few months,” Gio added when Calisto stayed quiet.

“Since my accident, I know.”

The O’Neil family had been the cause of his accident, apparently. Calisto only knew what he was told, but he’d had a meeting with the Irish boss earlier that day, and it must have not ended well given the fact someone came after him, intent on ending his life.

“No,” Gio drawled, his brow furrowing, “it was happening even before that, but it’s gotten worse since then.”

Calisto rubbed a hand down his face, blowing out a heavy breath. “I don’t—”

“Remember. Yeah, I get that, man.”

“Affonso is determined to cull the Irish. That’s really all I can say. Given what they did, it’s his right.”

Gio didn’t look pleased with that answer. “But it’s affecting other families now. Mine, the Calabrese. Even the Russians have had some run ins, and I don’t like that shit at all, since I have territory down in Brighton that mingles with theirs. I’m the only man between the Three Families that doesn’t feud with the Russians, and I would really like to keep it that way.”

Calisto tossed his hands up in the air. “What do you want me to do? It’s not like I think killing the fucking Irish is going to magically make shit better. I’m not the one out doing it, I’m just doing what the Don wants me to do, Gio.”

“Dante wants a sit-down. The Marcello, Calabrese, and the Donati families. He wants a solution figured out now before this gets any worse.”

Fuck.

Wonderful.

“And that’s why you called me over here today, because he figured you could get a response out of me faster than Affonso?”