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Rocco grins. “Try not to find someone who’ll kill you when you sleep. It’s impossible when you’ve pissed them off to get any fucking sleep.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, bro, did you annoy your wife again?”
He glares at me. “What the fuck do you think?”
“Could it be that you’ve forgotten something?” I ask, seeing as yesterday was his wedding anniversary and he never once spoke about it.
He raises a brow. “Spit it out,” he growls.
“What did you get her for your anniversary?” I ask as I move toward the front door. “I’m driving,” I announce. I can’t deal with either of those two doing it.
“Why the fuck didn’t you remind me?” he says as he stomps out of the house after me. “Christ, Dario, you should have told me.”
“Nope,” I say. “I didn’t marry the crazy lady who’ll burn my cock off if I piss her off. You did. And you should remember, I’m not your office manager.”
“That’s a good idea,” Elio says, snapping his fingers. “You should get one of those, Roc. You’ll be able to remember in future.”
“Or better yet,” I say as I climb into my car. “Put a reminder on your cell for a month before, then two weeks, then a week, then the actual morning.” I shake my head. How the fuck has he managed to be married for two years and not remember the date? I shouldn’t have to tell him how to deal with this shit.
“What the fuck do I do?” he asks.
I glare at him. “I reminded you why you’re in the doghouse, brother. Don’t ask me to get you out of it. You’re on your own.”
He flips me off, and I put the car into drive and pull out of my driveway.
“What are we going to do about the Buchanan’s?” I ask, hoping I can kill the two of them. Keeping them alive benefits no one. Their business isn’t that great. They’re not the only bastards who have marijuana farms in Missouri. There’s more than fifty of them who do, and most of them would work with us for a fraction of the price Buchanan wants.
“Let’s see what the bastard has to say for himself and then I’ll make a decision,” Rocco tells me. “So easy on the trigger, yeah?”
“Seriously?” I sigh. “Wouldn’t it be easier for us all to take him and that bitch out?”
“Yes,” Elio says from the back seat. “It would. But we don’t need the cops on our backs. We’ve got enough shit going on. The last thing we need is to catch a fucking charge.”
It’s been over two decades since a Gallo was in prison, and I fucking hope it remains that way. Though I’d happily do the time if it meant getting that crazy bitch off my ass.
“Fuck,” I hiss. “So we let them get away with that shit?”
Roc laughs. “No. No one said she had to live. He’s got a son who works for him. It’ll be better for everyone if he takes over. The bitch can die.”
I aim my grin toward the road. As long as she’s dying, I don’t give a fuck who else goes with her. The father should, but fuck, he’ll need to train the son, and we’ll go from there. If there’s any more shit from them, I’ll take them all out. Fuck what the cops do afterward.
We arrive at the house, and I see both Francis and Melanie’s cars parked out front. Good, they’re both here. It’s time to remind these fuckers that the Gallo’s aren’t people to fuck with, and they’ve pushed us too far. Especially Melanie and her plan to trap me. She should have clued in from the get-go. I’m not going to fucking go anywhere near her ass. There’s only one woman I want, and I’m determined to make things right and get her back.
We enter the house undetected, fucking useless not having security. The second we enter, Francis’ face pales.
“Dario,” Francis says, his eyes wide as he glances between Rocco, Elio, and I. “What’s the meaning of this?”
I don’t speak. No, I let Rocco take the lead. If I were to lead, I’d have that bitch strangled the moment she tried to justify her actions.
“Francis, how stupid do you think I am?”
The old man blinks, confusion setting on his face. “I don’t understand, Rocco. What’s going on?”
“Why are you putting your daughter in charge of your business?” he asks him.
Francis folds his arms over his chest. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
I sigh. This shit isn’t going to get us anywhere. I’d rather just off the lot of them and be done with it.
