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And then the phone rings.
I jump, my wide eyes, and turn to Dante.
“Answer it,” he says, and with shaking hands, I do as he demands.
I’m glad Dante’s here. I’m glad it’s him witnessing my cool, calm exterior cracking with nerves and not Marco or some other man who I’d want to see me as strong and self-assured.
Still, I slip on my costume of confident, all-knowing baddie.
“Yes?” I say, my voice smooth.
That mask I used to put on for Turner really does come in handy sometimes.
“It’s Johnny,” he says, and even though I never had to talk to him, I somehow know it’s him.
Shit.
What now?
“Yes?” I say again.
“Surprised you answered. Surprised you took this risk, little girl.”
“You call me little girl again and you’ll regret it, Vitale.” I have no idea how I would make him regret it, but my gut says I could find a way.
He laughs like I told some kind of joke.
God, this man is intolerable.
“Should I hang up?” I ask, and it's then that the confident siren snaps into place. The ruthless queen.
His laughter stops and I smile.
“No. We have things to talk about,” he says, the words coming out in a panicked rush.
“Then talk. What’s the purpose of this call, anyway?” I ask, because the reality is, that when Johnny sent his letter, he requested I contact him in some way but didn’t tell me why.
Thursday the third at four, Delilah. Please. I need to speak with you.
Alarm bells rang but more so, my interest was piqued, and after he gave me details I needed about Carmine and Tony, I felt it was only right to give him some of my time.
“God, cut to the chase, why don’t you,” he says, and it raises my hackles.
“Johnny, I need nothing from you. You are quite literally in state prison paying off what will probably be a life sentence for your measly, shitty, underboss life. Why on earth would I want to spend a second more of my precious time talking to scum like you?”
“It’s not gonna be a life sentence,” he says, his tone gruff, and it seems I’ve hit a nerve.
“You and I both know that if you don’t serve life you’ll be serving life, Johnny. Whether it’s someone from the Carluccio outfit or from the Russos, you’ve got enemies all around.”
“There’s always WITSEC,” he says.
I laugh.
I actually laugh.
The man is out of his mind.
“Johnny, sweetheart. Sweet, delusional Johnny. In what universe would they give a piece of scum WITSEC?”
