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“We’re not going to throw ourselves into them, dumbo,” Joe waves a disparaging hand at Emilio. “We’ll play it smart-like.”
“Please,” Emilio rolls his eyes. “Do tell us your genius plan then, oh mighty Lord Costa.”
The childish banter between these two started in our youth and grew stronger the older we got.
“Boss?” Joe turns to me. This is a safe space for us to commune freely, and Joe knows it, but still, he insists on my approval before speaking. A more loyal dog has never existed than Joe Costa.
I roll a hand for him to continue.
“Those runts you dealt with at the funeral, Donny and his three stooges, are sore about how they left things with you,” Joe starts. Irritation bubbles in my veins at the thought of the four fuckers who spoke ill towards my woman, but I still my anger to hear Joe out. He wouldn’t have brought them up to me if he didn’t have a good plan for them. “They want to make it up to you, and I told them I’ve got the way to do it.”
“Why would they want to make it up to me with how I treated them?” I ask. It’s an honest question, demanding a simple answer. If they had a backbone, they’d have taken the sand to the eye and left with vengeance fueling their actions. At least, if I were in their position, that’s how it’d be.
“Because you’re Don Hawthorne,” Joe’s voice softens. “Kingpin of Boston and all her isles.”
“Get to the point, Joe. I’m tired of discussions never making headway.” I don’t want an ego boost. Ineedmy dick inside Alyssa’s virgin pussy. The sooner these chats are over, the sooner I can claim my woman for good.
“Why don’t we use them? If they’re serious about proving their loyalty, we send them into the wolf’s den with a tiny morsel.” Joe eases back in his chair. He slides two fingers into his shirt pocket, bringing out a box of Marlboro Gold. “Give them something tasty to take with; a morsel of information Rocco Barberetti will be frothing at the mouth for. They go in and distract the guards while we’re outside with mean guys and big guns. On some signal we kick in the door, shoot the shit out of the place, and ding, dong, the bitch is dead.”
Emilio hums a satisfied sound. I subconsciously follow.
“You thought of this on your lonesome?” Emilio asks.
“Sure did,” Joe says satisfied with himself. He lifts a cigarette out of the box and sets it firmly in the corner of his lips. He searches his pockets for a lighter but gives up.
“It’s the best plan we’ve got apart from storming the place. Might as well use them as leverage. Who gives a shit if they live or die,” I say. “Then there we have it, put this plan in motion. Joe, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but charge and see it done.”
The three of us laugh together. As much as we banter and tease, this isn’t anyone’s first roundabout.
“But now I’ll have to ask the two of you to kindly get the fuck out of my house. I’ve seen enough of your sorry mugs for a lifetime.” Another bout of chuckling follows.
Emilio kills his cigarette in an ashtray on my desk. Joe keeps the unlit stick in his mouth. Both of them stand and I join.
“Good work, gentlemen,” I say as I escort them out of my office and to the front door. But as I move to grab the handle, it swings open to Alyssa and Tony. He’s licking at a snow cone, and she's holding two ice creams in her hands.
“Ice cream so late?” Joe asks, tousling Tony’s hair. “You’re gonna get a tummy ache.”
“It’s my present,” Tony says. “I’ve been a good boy.”
“Don’t believe you for a second,” Joe waggles a finger at the boy. “You’re a little shit just like your fa—”
He stills his tongue before he says the final regrettable word in that sentence. Tony was so busy with the cone he didn’t hear a single word Joe said. Good, I wouldn’t want to lose my first night off to sadness.
“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something,” Alyssa says.
“Not at all,” I respond with a jovial tone. She somehow brings it out in me without even trying. “These two were just leaving.”
I tilt my head to Joe, then Emilio, and both get my meaning from a glance. They say goodbye and rush down the stairs to Emilio’s Honda Civic. With all the money and power in the world, he chooses to drive a sensible car. I respect him for that.
“So, what’s this then? Three ice creams for the little man?” I ask.
“Oh, no,” Alyssa shakes her head. “I’m holding you to the promise you made a few days ago.”
She holds a chocolate cone out to me. For herself, she opted for a Red Rocket, and I’m slobbering at the thought of seeing her eat it.
“I need to get Tony ready for bed,” she says. "Then we can enjoy ours."
“I don’t wanna go to bed,” Tony humphs and takes a bite.
