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“What the hell are you going to do son?” Dad asks, standing there smoking his hundredth Camel of the day.
“I am going to get my girl,” I say, checking the chamber of my gun.
“Your girl? She’s not your girl yet.”
“Bull fucking shit. You and Manero already gave her to me. It’s my fucking job to protect her.”
“You can’t go off half-cocked. You don’t even know where they are holding her or even if she is even in the country.”
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing. It’s not in my nature.”
“So, you’re just going to storm every Santucci holding in the county until you find her? That’s fucking crazy son. You need a plan.”
“That plan is better than no plan,” I tell him storming around the room.
“How can you be so attached to her already? Did you fuck her in France?” he asks, a lecherous grin on his face.
“Excuse me?” I ask, getting in his space. I have to take a step back because his breath is revolting. A disgusting combination of garlic, cigarettes, and bourbon.
“Why else would you be so gung-ho to get her back? Clearly, you sampled the merchandise before buying,” he says chuckling. I hate him at this moment. For the first time in my life, I am realizing just how callous he can be. While that’s a good thing to be in this business, he lets it spill over into his family and especially onto his wife.
“Go fuck yourself,” I seethe, shaking my head. “Not that I have to justify myself to you, but no, I didn’t. She’s still underage.”
“She isn’t in France,” he says shrugging. He’s right about that and technically she’s legal in New York too, but I can wait the three months until she can be mine free and clear.
“You are a piece of shit, you know that? She’s going to be my wife and that fact alone means she deserves my protection and my adoration, something you clearly know nothing about.”
“Watch your fucking mouth, boy. You forget your place in this family,” he warns but I don’t care at this point. I am about two fucking seconds from punching him in the face.
“I know my place, old man. It’s you who has forgotten. I know where the fucking bodies are buried.”
“What’s going on in here?” Alberto, my brother says coming into the room. “You guys are shouting down the house.”
“Your brother has lost his damn mind.”
“My fiancée has been taken by the Santucci’s,” I say, ignoring the bastard.
“Allegedly,” Dad chimes in.
“Let’s get her back then. Where is she?” Alberto asks, also ignoring the old man. I can always count on Alberto to have my back and he can count on me, no questions asked.
“That’s the problem. I don’t know where she’s being held,” I tell him.
“We’ll find her together, brother,” he says, grabbing a shotgun and some shells off of the shelf.
“We need to do something about Dad,” I say as we head out to my 1969 Dodge Charger.
“I’ve got a plan for that asshole,” he says.
“I am not sure I want to kill him,” I say chuckling.
“It’s a fate worse than death, believe me and it all starts with Ma kicking his ass to the curb.”
“Will she do that? I mean she’s already put up with so much from him.”
“She’s done. He got Suzette pregnant,” he says, mentioning Dad’s newest, not to mention youngest mistress.
“Jesus. How did I not know this?”
“She went to the hairdresser while Ma was there today. Told anyone who’d listen that Sal Vitali knocked her up and how she’s set for life now. Ma is pissed and embarrassed. I am surprised she didn’t take a pair of scissors and stab the bitch where she sat.”
“I’m sure it crossed her mind,” I say, starting the car.
“Where should we check first?”
“Their warehouse in Port Morris,” I say, thinking of the small area of the Bronx they’ve claimed. The area is being revitalized but they are bringing it right back down with their prostitution ring and gun running. They’ve got the INS and the ATF all over the place over there. No one feels safe. Residents are sure that every utility truck in the area is a cop on a stakeout and the sad truth of the matter is, they are probably right. This is why we run a tight ship. Other than the cocaine and the occasional hit, we are clean as a whistle. Plus, it’s a good idea to have those government agencies in your pocket. We have a man in most of them. The only one we haven’t yet infiltrated is the CIA, but that’s not as important since they don’t operate on US soil.
“That seems like as good a place as any. If she’s not there, we may be able to get one of their guys to talk.”
