“Unfortunately, that’s more of a pipe dream now.”
“But James, I don’t know how to do this life! How am I supposed to just take over for my father? What the hell can I contribute at this so-called ‘table’? I’m not exactly equipped for this existence.” My eyebrows shoot up. “How can I get out of it?”
“Kristina, you should know better than anyone that you can never get out.” James lifts an eyebrow. “Unless you’re in a box.”
“That’s not ominous at all.”
“Lucky Luciano’s words, not mine. Look, you need to understand the gravity of your situation. Let the commission help you, but don’t give them any insight into your father’s work or you will be considered their enemy by association. The most important thing right now is for you to protect yourself. Savio and the others will guide you.”
“And so, should I prepare for the career change now? From surgeon to illicit criminal enterprise representative?”
“At some point, you will have a choice to make.”
“You’re being very evasive right now and I don’t really appreciate it. What kind of choice?” I try to keep my voice even, but my entire world just got flipped upside down and I feel as if I’m crawling on the ceiling right now, the fear of plunging into a deep, dark hole clutching me by the throat.
“A choice to live or to die. Choose wisely and you will be well-taken care of. Choose poorly and…” He lets out a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair.
“And?” I shoot straight up in my chair.
“I’ll leave that up to your imagination. But I can promise you the reality will be a worse fate than anything you could ever dream of.”
Chapter Twelve
MASSIMO
“You look like hell, man.”
“Yeah, well, imagine how much worse it’d be if Lugo’s guys actually succeeded in torching me,” Joey grumbles, cringing as he leans over the bleachers to tie his sneaker. His face is a mess of bruises on the mend, one of the results of Eddie Lugo’s rage-filled attack on him last week after the fuckfest with his wife.
I can’t shake the image of Joey tied up in that deserted warehouse downtown, doubled over after the assault to his slashed midsection had resulted in a few broken ribs. His eyes had been swollen shut, his lip split and bleeding, his nose broken.
Savio had me exactly where he wanted me when he gave me the choice…
Saving Joey’s life in exchange for what he wanted, the ask I’d never have considered if Joey wasn’t about to be flambéed.
“How’s your family?” I ask him.
“They’re still pretty fucking freaked out. Especially after everything we’ve dealt with in the past few months.”
The pang of guilt assaults me like a dagger to the chest before I ask the question I already know the answer to. “And your dad?”
“Not great. He blames himself for letting it happen, for not being able to beat the fuck out of the guys who broke in. He’s not in a good place.”
“They all had guns. Even if he wasn’t in that wheelchair, he’d have never been able to take them all and save you.”
“He feels like he could have tried. I think he’d have gladly taken a bullet to the head knowing he did the best he could to protect his family.” He straightens up with a groan and slowly stretches his arms overhead, wincing slightly. “And I’m still in some pretty serious pain.”
“I’m so fucking pissed off at you, Joey,” I grumble. “Of all the women in that damn bar…”
“Come on, you know I’d never have fucked Angeline if I was sober, Mas. I’m not an idiot.” He fists his hair, pacing the floor. “The bitch drugged me. The toxicology report at the hospital came back with traces of Rohypnol in my blood. I remember being fine one minute, and the next minute she was riding me in the backseat of my car. I don’t even know how I got home that night. I barely remembered it the next day, at least until Lugo’s goons bum-rushed me out of my parents’ house.”
“She drugged you?” My mouth twists into a grimace. “Savio, you fucking bastard,” I mutter.
“Mas, I’m really sorry,” he says. “This shit you’re neck-deep in is all my fault.”
I shake my head. “They played us both. They knew I’d come running if they took a crack at you.” I give his shoulder a light punch and he cringes.
“Ahh!”
I smirk. “Sorry. But seriously, it’s been a week. Don’t be such a pussy.”
“You’re lucky I love ya, man.”
“You guys were always there for me, the only real family I ever had. I’d never let anything happen to you, and Savio played on that.”
But even as I say the words, they sting my soul.
Because I did let something happen to them.
I’m the reason why Joey’s dad is in a wheelchair, why they have to scrimp just to get by every month, and why his mom has to work multiple jobs.
How the fuck could I let anything happen to their oldest son when I’ve already done so much damage to their family?
The regret over what happened plagues me every day, and the worst part is that nobody knows except me.
“What are you gonna do about it?” He rolls his eyes. “I’m not really in any shape to go after him right now, although I’d love to skin his ass for everything he put you through.”
“I’ve got some ideas. Right now, he’s got me working as a glorified security guard for a tormented family. I just need to figure out why. That could be the key to taking him down. He’s got something up his sleeve. I just need to figure out what it is so I can use it against him.”
“After all these years,” Joey muses. “About fucking time. I’d like to shoot off his balls once you have him where you want him.”
“So long as I get to take care of the rest of him,” I grumble.
“Hey, bitches! What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were working security out in Long Island, Mas,” my friend, Quinn Mulligan, jeers, clamping a strong hand on my shoulder. He turns to Joey. “Damn, Joey. I hope that pussy was worth it.”
“Fuck off,” Joey growls.
“Guys, I need to talk to Massimo.”
I twist around to see Patty, Quinn’s older brother and the boss of the Mulligan crime family, walk into the gym. He’s been one of my closest confidantes pretty much since we met years ago. I had a shit childhood under Savio’s sadistic reign, and my broken family was finally pieced together when I met these guys.
They’d do anything for me and I’d take a bullet for all of them.
But Patty doesn’t look thrilled right now. He’s moving like he’s got a pole stuck up his ass and there’s a murderous glint in his menacing, blue-eyed gaze. He nods toward the office we use for Sportsocity, our sports program for underprivileged and second-generation youths here at the Y in Hell’s Kitchen. I walk inside, shutting the door once we’re alone.
“This Lugo shit is bleeding into my business, Mas,” he says in a gruff voice. “A bunch of them showed up at Risk the other night, fucking looting the place and scaring off my customers. It took a long time for my publicist to get the nightclub back up and running after that bullshit with the police raid. I can’t have Lugo fuck things up again, not when we’re finally back on top.”