Page 60 of Marcus

Chris, that was.

There was no way, on Saturday of all days, the first day of his weekend, something had already gone wrong. Marcus ignored the call. He had better things to do and other people to take care of for the moment.

Like the woman staring at him from the passenger seat, waiting.

And the little girl in the backseat.

Chris would understand.

If not, well then, he’d get over it.

“Christopher, if someone isn’t dead to explain why you’re calling my phone every ten minutes when you know I have other things to handle this weekend—”

“Thanks for finally picking up,” his brother replied cheerfully, although still managing to sound sour at the same time.

Marcus scowled, pinching the bridge of his nose but remembering where he was at the same time. He had just enough sense to turn his back to the indoor playground where he’d brought Tiffany to burn off all her energy once their breakfast crawled closer to noon. The place sported entire climbing gyms, trampolines, rock walls, ball pools, and far more. It was even big enough for the adults to get in and play with the kids, if they wanted.

Exactly what a high energy child like Tiffany needed to burn off energy. All his other plans for her and Cella would happen tomorrow, but he figured this would be enough for the girl to have lots of fun today, anyway.

“You’re really testing my patience lately,” Marcus warned.

His brother chuckled dryly. “Same, man.”

“You know, I’m almost positive Papa never had as much trouble with his intended underboss or consigliere that I have with you sometimes.”

“Nah, you’re just in a mood and I’m not here for your shit, Marcus, that’s all.”

Jesus Christ.

Yes, that’s what he needed.

Jesus.

To save him from killing his brother.

“Don’t you think,” Chris started to say, annoying Marcus even more with just his tone alone, “that if I was calling all morning, it might mean there was something going on that I wanted to bring to your attention?”

“What did I say about this weekend?”

“Marcus—”

“No, my bit is important, Chris.”

“So is mine!”

“I am sure whatever it is, it could have waited for Monday.”

“Oh, you think? Because I’m not so sure. And pretty soon, I suspect word is going to get back to Papa about all this shit going on, and then neither one of us will be very happy. Hmm?”

Fuck.

He had a point.

“I just want the weekend,” he told his brother. “That’s it. Why can’t I have it?”

“Because the boss never gets a day off, man. Welcome to la famiglia—you’re in, and there isn’t any way out.”

Yeah.