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But every encounter ends the same.
Nobody knows where Julian is.
Exhausted, frustrated, I slide back onto my bike, feeling more hopeless than ever. Just then, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. It’s AJ.
“Leo,” he says, his voice authoritative and commanding. “Get down to the port. Crew’s not pulling their weight and Olivieri wants some help. They’ve had enough warnings.”
I say nothing.
“Leo, get your dick out of whatever it’s in and get down there!”
“I’m busy,” I tell him shortly, and I’m about to hang up, but he keeps talking.
“Listen, Olivieri said these slack fucks also caught sight of that Castellani fairy, and Dad said you were looking for him. So if doing your job is too much for you, maybe—“
I hang up.
But I’m definitely going.
* * *
There’s a breeze coming in at the port, part salt-spray, part rotting seaweed. I’m on high alert, eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger or betrayal, because AJ’s call sure sounded like a setup.
But what if it’s not? That’s the thought that keeps me walking.
The memory of that bullet just missing Julian’s head is fresh in my mind as I make my way down to where Olivieri and his crew usually hang out. Could that shooter be involved in Julian’s disappearance?
“Leo!” a voice calls out from behind me, pulling me from my thoughts. I spin around to see AJ, Gino, and a whole lot of port crew members approaching, including Olivieri, their useless Capo. They wear dark expressions, hands clutching hidden weapons beneath their jackets.
I give a dark chuckle. “Don’t fuck with me today, AJ.”
He sneers, and he’s always harbored resentment towards me, but something in his face tells me it’s deeper than jealousy now. And when I look at Gino, see the fear and the apology in his eyes, I know what’s coming.
AJ takes his hands out of his pockets and shows me the brass knuckles he’s wearing, flexing his fingers with a smirk. “Go on.”
I’m surrounded by Bernardi crew members, fists and pipes and rebar raining down on me. I manage to deck a few, fight back as well as I can, my body aching with each blow, but they’re too many and too strong.
“Stop,” I hear Gino gasp out at last, his voice breaking. “Please, AJ—“
“Stay out of it!” AJ roars, throwing another punch that sends me sprawling to the ground. My vision blurs, black spots dancing at the edges of my sight as the beating continues.
“Enough!” AJ commands at last, and the onslaught stops. “Get him into the hole.”
Two men pull me to my feet, but I’m already sinking into darkness.
* * *
My eyelids flutter open, head pounding like a jackhammer as consciousness returns. The taste of blood lingers in my mouth, and my body feels like it’s been trampled by a stampede. I attempt to move, but my wrists are bound tight to the arms of a chair, zip ties digging into my skin.
When I get one eye open—the other is swelled shut—I can still barely see. The room is dimly lit, shadows hugging the corners. I squint, trying to make out the figures lurking in the darkness.
“Look who’s awake,” AJ drawls from the shadows. He emerges, features obscured by the low light. “Did you dream about us, Leo?”
“Fuck you,” I say, and spit out a tooth.
“You know why you’re here?” AJ goes on.
I say nothing.
