AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Trophies for sure,” I agree with a nod.
Sitting back in my chair, I watch him throw that ball and get it through the hoop each time. Not a terribly difficult feat, I know, but the angle of his bed in relation to the hoop says he has to curve the throw. He catches, he angles, he tosses. And every single time, the ball follows the exact same trajectory.
“So youaregood,” I note.
He shrugs. “You heard about Micah?”
With a sigh, I allow his change of subject. “Yeah, I heard. What the fuck was he thinking, walking over to the Pastores and knocking on their door?”
“Probably thought his brothers sucked, and he had to take things into his own hands.” He glances my way, his face hard and his eyes emotionless. “I don’t think they’ve killed him yet.”
Seventeen. And he knows everything about our world.
I nod. “He’s still alive. If he wasn’t, they’d have sent him home already. What do they want?”
He goes back to tossing the ball. “For us to step down. But, like… publicly.”
“Not gonna happen. What about the Mancinos? Where do they stand in all this?”
He barks out a playful laugh. “They don’t stand at all. You don’t watch the news over there in Copeland? It was huge for a while.”
“What was huge?” I frown. “What happened?”
“They imploded. Old man Mancino was assassinated in police custody. He had no sons, and his daughter’s missing. No one wanted to step up, so they just…” He tosses the ball. “Ceased to exist.”
“What did Pastore say about that?” I’ve made a habit ofnotstaying up to date on all this shit. I moved away and tried to stay gone, which means I didn’t see Mancino’s downfall. “Was he happy or pissed?”
My baby brother shrugs. “Indifferent, I suppose. He wanted to fuck Mancino’s daughter, so he would’ve joined families and tolerated them, if only Estefan Cordoza would’ve allowed it. Unfortunately for Pastore, she didn’t want him. Then the same time Mancino was popped, Pastore was picked up and tossed in a cell.”
“Jail?” I balk. “Seriously?”
“For a couple of days,” he chuckles. “Money buys a lot of things, though, and lawyers like his know how to get a man home for dinner. The PD is still trying to make their charges stick, but Pastore is smart and keeps his lawyers well-fed.”
“Much like Timothy Malone,” I grumble. “Sometimes, shit just won’t stick, no matter how hard the cops try.”
“Spoken like a true narc,” he teases. “Aren’t you legally obligated to arrest every single person in this house right now? Does it hurt not to?”
“Everyone except you,” I play along. “You’re still a minor, and so far, I’ve only witnessed you throw a ball like a little bitch baby.”
He catches his ball and turns to glare at me. “Bitch baby, my ass.”
“What happened after Pastore was arrested?” I bring a hand up and prepare to catch if he tries to hit me with the ball. “What happened with Mancino?”
“He was shot in custody. No one knows who got him, ‘cuz no one has stepped up to say it was them. Pastore was arrested but made bail. And Michelle Mancino left the city and never came back. No one knows where she went, so it’s like she just stopped existing too.”
“She dead?”
Turning back to the hoop, he throws the ball. Catches it as it comes down again. “No idea. But it’s been maybe a year or so since it all went down. Some big FBI involvement. She left, Mancino died, Cordoza commanded more power than ever. And amongst all the fighting, Malones stole a little of Pastore’s turf and international trade.”
“Which would’ve pissed him off.”
He nods, likeduh. “The arrest made them look unstable, so our old man slipped in and took advantage of that weakness.”
“And now that he’s dying,” I sigh, “Pastore wants back what was his.”
“Mmhmm. And we find out you’re a mafia hitman playing reformed cop, and you’re hitched, oh, and your dimpled doctor also dated Pastore.” Catching his ball and pushing up to sit, he turns my way and flashes a grin that might get him smacked a few times before he learns a lesson. “Did you know she fucked him?”
“She didn’t,” I snarl. Then I look down and study the outline of my phone in my pocket. “But I know they dated.”
