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How doyou get someone out of your head when they’re not supposed to be there in the first place?
If I knew, I would’ve done it months ago. Tasha’s been on my mind since the moment I stepped off the plane from my Vegas trip and returned to life in New Jersey.
I can’t shake thoughts of her. I try, then she pops right back up.
“Big Lou, are you listening?”
The present slams into me. I’m standing in the middle of Vic’s office as Jake Franzese cowers on his knees before us.
I grunt. “Hmm?”
“You gonna teach Jakey boy here a lesson?” Vic asks, cocking his head.
All eyes are on me.
Even Jakey boy’s.
“Right, sorry. Teaching him a lesson now.”
I curl my hands into fists and step toward him. Jake flinches before my fist even connects. He knows it’s going to hurt like hell, and he’s correct—I swing my arm and my knuckles collide with his chin. The hit doesn’t pack even half my full power, but it’s enough to send him flying backward.
He lands with a thud, with his arms and legs splayed out at his sides. I peek at Vic from over my shoulder.
Vic motions for me to continue. “Well? What are ya waiting for? Beat the shit out of him! He’s the snitch!”
“Yes, Vic.”
I do as I’m told. I follow orders and beat the shit out of Jake. My deadly fists smash into his face and break his nose and eye socket. I knock out several of his teeth. Blood spurts freely from all the gashes I cause. Ribs are broken and his balls crushed. Some of the other guys in the room join in, too, doling out kicks here and there.
He groans and loses consciousness.
Vic interrupts with a slow clap. “Look at all that blood. Good job, Big Lou. Let’s stuff him in the trunk. We’ll take him to the landfill.”
The rest of the night is no less morbid. We dispose of Jake Franzese for snitching on our crew, and effectively the Sorrentino family. All the while, Tasha’s still on my mind. I’m checking the time and realizing she’s probably headed into the Dollhouse, preparing for another night.
We exchanged numbers when I left Vegas. We’ve texted a few times. A small win in my book.
Tasha says she doesn’t associate with men outside of work. Not as friends. Not as romantic interests.
Her replying to my texts feels special.
“What’s got you smiling like that?” Nikki asks later in the night. I picked her up from her late-night shift at the hospital since her car’s in the shop. She slides into the passenger seat of my car and tries to peek at my phone like annoying little sisters do.
I hold it out of her reach. “Hey, how many years have I been telling you? Mind your business.”
“I know you, Louie. I know that kinda smile. It’s a girl, ain’t it?”
Nikki smiles wide too.
A mean mug type of expression takes over my face. I focus on the roads as I pull away from the hospital and enter traffic. Nikki’s lucky I’m an overprotective big brother even as an adult and I’d go crazy over stranding her somewhere on the side of the road, otherwise I’d ditch her for being so nosy.
But shedoesknow me better than anybody. Other than Gio, she’s practically my best friend.
“Who is she?” she asks.
“Never mind.”
“Louie, you were rereading old texts. Isawyou.”
