Page 2 of Duty

“Nothing, I was just thinking … you’re good like that, you know? Always looking out for me.”

Yeah …

Andino had been on this earth for twenty-eight fucking years, and every single one of them had been spent looking out for John in one way or another. At the end of the day, next to his mother and father, Andino figured John was the only person he really gave a damn about.

“But when are you going to start looking out for you, huh?” John asked.

Andino laughed. “Probably never.”

“You have to take care of you sometime, man.”

It was the smash of the lawyer’s head against the desk that drew Andino’s attention again. Well, that, and the splatter of blood that hit the front of Andino’s tailored blazer. He scowled, and gave the enforcer a look.

“Really, Pink?” Andino asked. “You know I have to have dinner with my mother tonight.”

The enforcer—who refused to tell almost everyone how he got his nickname—shrugged. “Sorry, boss.”

“Are you working?” John asked.

“Cleaning up a mess.”

“Ah.”

Speaking of which …

The lawyer was pleading again.

Garbled.

Mumbling.

Bleeding.

“Godspeed to the men who plead,” Andino murmured before giving the enforcer a nod. The lawyer was never going to pay; too much debt, and too bad of a gambling habit. That’s why the bookie decided to come to Andino. “Finish it, Pink.”

Turning his back to the scene behind him, he returned to the conversation with his cousin. Like nothing had happened. Nothing was wrong.

This was his life.

Business.

And family.

Only those two things.

Andino didn’t know anything different.

• • •

“Evening, Ma,” Andino greeted, bending down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

Kim gave her son a warm smile and a pat on his arm. “Your father is tinkering in the garage.”

“I didn’t come to see Dad,” Andino half-lied.

He had come to talk to Giovanni, but he always made time for his mother, too. Being an only child had allowed Andino all of his parents’ love and attention as he grew up under their watchful eyes. His father had been easygoing and fun, as had his mother.

They made for interesting parents, if nothing else. Andino had been allowed to experiment with life without expectations or demands weighing him down. He’d always had a confidant in his father, should he need to talk. He’d always had a supporter in his mother, no matter his decisions. Judgement held no place in his parents’ home and lives, and certainly not toward Andino or his choices.