Page 19 of Gio


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“Can’t wait.” She chirps as she walks away, slamming her bedroom door.

I can’t help but to chuckle.

Fucking little thief.

Never go to bed angry.

That was one of my grandmother’s favorite phrases to tell me. Well, yesterday I went to bed pissed and woke up that way too.

Yeah, Gio could have done much worse, but that didn’t stop me from hating him.

The way he talked to me was out of line and not letting me see Johnny was just cruel. It doesn’t help that Johnny still hasn’t responded to a single text or phone call.

He was true to his word at least. As promised, my car was outside my apartment this AM, and there was a new man sitting on the hood holding my keys.

Just what I need, more men in my life making demands.

I check my phone again, for the hundredth time. Still nothing from Johnny or Rob. I just need to know that they’re okay, not roughed up too badly.

Maybe I should have talked back to him less. Gio was trying to make a point, and true to word on the street, he was a gangster. Gangster’s beat people up. I’m not an idiot, I shouldn’t be surprised.

I was though.

Because I wanted to trust him. I thought behind those hard brown eyes there was a decent man.

“Watch it,” one of the residents growled at me as I nearly knocked them over in the hallway.

“Sorry,” I mutter. I need to get my head in the game. I need to work.

I slip my phone in my pocket and try to focus on my job, a part-time nurse's aid. I take a deep breath to study myself, right as I’m about to move forward the damn phone vibrates in my pocket.

I nearly jump out of my orthopedic shoes trying to grab it out of my pocket quickly.

It’s a text, the I.D. reads Gio. He must have programmed his name into my phone yesterday.

Alibi, 7 PM. Someone will pick you up.

I exhale, not Johnny.

I’m annoyed with myself for always fretting and waiting for my brother to call and let me know he’s okay. I feel like I’ve had a lifetime of this between him and our father.

Dad had a habit of going off on a drinking spree and not showing up for days on end. When he came back all our money was gone and utilities would be shut off. It was a vicious cycle.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Another cliche my grandmother spouted ran through my mind. That woman had a cliche for any moment.

I look over the text message again before shoving the phone back in my pocket. Day one of taking orders from Gio DelGado.

I’m angry, and I want to hate him, but in a way, I’m also grateful. At least now I don’t have the threat of death hanging over my head for fifty thousand dollars. No, I need to stop myself from glamorizing what this really is, a transaction. Instead of owing fifty grand, I just have a mobster who wants me to do whatever he says.

“Whatcha thinking about, kiddo?” Bernie, my favorite resident cuts through my thoughts. He’s posted up in a chair in the hallway. He likes to watch all the drama unfold. Between the nurses and the old ladies he says this place is full of drama, better than a soap opera.

“Nothing, Bernie.” I tell him. I go into the nurse’s station across from him. We keep a mini-fridge there with some snacks, including Jello which I know is Bernie’s favorite. I grab us each a cup and sit in the seat next to him.

Bernie has been like a grandfather to me since I started here. In the beginning, I was a fumbling idiot, just trying to grasp the simple concepts. Bernie would sit in his chair here and snicker at me before he finally told me that all the nurses are like that at first.

“Ah, bullshit” he snaps, grabbing the Jello from me. “I know you better than that. You’re stuck in your head.” He uses a wrinkly finger to tap my head for emphasis.

“Maybe,” I dig a spoon into my Jello cup.

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