Before Cobra could say anything, Alonzo scoffed, “Why would he tell you anything of her ties, you’re just a member of their crew,”
I looking down at the man that helped create Priest, genetically at least, and can’t help the small smirk that forms on my face. Lene had taught me about people like him, maybe even knowing one day I would meet the man she was probably referencing. Guys like Alonzo Conti hates when they didn’t have power, and in our world, control and knowledge led to power. When he lost his daughter he’d lost his sense of control. And with my presence he lacked the knowledge to understand where I fit on his mental chess board.
“I founded this crew with Cobra and Priest, but I’m also the son Lene had always hopped to have. Cobra and Lene raised me in the same little apartment as Priest, her secrets are my secrets,” I say.
Alonzo looks me up and down, and I’m sure to him, I look like a thug, but then again by some definitions I am one. But I know that that is not all that I am, thanks to the love and lessons Lene and Cobra had given me. But looking at me he sees something he doesn’t like, that’s evident by the badly masked rage that sparks when I say Lene and Cobra’s name. I stand to my full hight, taught to never bow my spine before tempted to torment you, and something in his eyes says that in regards to me, Alonzo Conti is tempted to the max.
He must sense that I will not be swayed because he jams his finger in my chest, hard enough to bruise had I been of a fair complexion rather than my black one.
I distantly hear the thud of a fleshy sort but I am focused on Alonzo, because he will not best me.
“You are not,” Alonzo starts but the sound of a gun’s slide being pulled back and released cuts him off as his eyes swing toward the truck. I quickly glance that way too.
Priest has drawn her gun again, and it’s pointed directly at her father for the second time in an hour and half, but instead of cool calm from earlier, now her eyes hold a hot flame of rage.
Priest
It’s probably not the right reaction to have to someone intimidating Bones. It’s not normal that’s for certain. But something in Alonzo Conti’s eyes seems to scream violence as he jams his finger into Bones’ chest. Not only is Bones my crew-member, he’s something so much more than that, and I’ve known probably since my mother bought him into the apartment the first time that I would kill for him, even before I had any inclination toward violence.
It also pisses me off that Alonzo thinks its okay not to heed my fucking words. The fact that he’s puffing his chest to Bones, a guy who gets hot under the collar at usual male posturing, Alonzo doesn’t know that Bones is holding himself together. The fact that Bones is maintaining and that I know it’s for me has me livid.
Yes, I know Bones can handle himself. But I don’t have to accept someone connected to me threatening him.
Maybe it’s because I still see visions of the little boy he’d been when I look at him from time to time, his face so weary of the world that a part of me would always want to protect him in some facet. Maybe because my mother loved him as one of her own, whatever the reason seeing my biological father’s finger pressing into Bones’ shirt was enough to make my finger itch on the trigger, just waiting to draw back.
I hop from the back of the truck, sight never leaving Alonzo’s face. He’s trying to school his features but it’s like looking at myself and it doesn’t take me long to read his features.
He should have had Cobra teach him, he’d have been better at disguising it.
The four men; Alex, Giovani, Tony, and Luca are staring at me in horror before it finally registers with them that I am pointing a loaded weapon at their boss, again. Once that seems to register they all draw there weapons but have them pointed at the ground, still unsure about how they are supposed to handle this. It’s honestly rather funny, but unlike my father I can keep my emotions off my face, just like Cobra.
“You would really point your gun at me?”
“You don’t know me yet, so I’m going to give you a pass, but I don’t owe you a damn thing, including respect. I already told you that I will live and die by the ones I call family. I didn’t think I’d need to go around and start pointing people out. You have respect in your family because you have proven you are worth respecting, right?” I don’t let him answer, “ You still have to prove to me that you are worthy of my respect, something my mother taught me. She also happens to have loved and raised this man and spent a large amount of her time protecting him,” Bones huffs, but stays quite, “You will not threaten or harm what is mine, no matter who you are, no matter what you seem to have against him. If you have an issue with him then you come to me, because he’s one of mine.”
Cobra puts his hand on my shoulder, and gently squeezes.
“His issues isn’t really with Bones,” Cobra starts and for once I don’t give a damn about what Cobra’s trying to tell me, so I do something I would never do.
I shrug his hand off of my shoulder.
“I don’t give a fuck if his issue is really with you, the pope, or mother Theresa. He doesn’t get to take it out on Bones. Hell, my mama would be turning in her grave if I didn’t make this point Cobra, and you know it.”
I don’t drop my weapon as I look my father steadily in the eye, and hold it there. I can see he’s at a loss, and I’m sure I would be too if the roles were reversed, but that’s not how it is, and I don’t really give a damn enough to sympathize with the man.
“He’s not Lene’s son,” Alonzo says, stubbornly.
I arch my eyebrow, “Mama upgraded apartments to house him, stripped extra nights and took on a part time job to cover his and I’s clothes every time we had a growth spirt. She fed him and signed all his parental consent forms while we were in school. You can act like you know everything about Lene Seely all you want, but the truth was and always has been in her actions. I’m not saying you aren’t entitled to feel some sort of way about this, but Mama taught Bones and I to drive, how to dance ‘proper bachata and soca’ even though Bones is still stiff when doing soca. She tucked us into bed each night and made breakfast for us every morning Cobra couldn’t. If you loved my mother you will not lift a hand to Bones again. If you want a relationship with me you will not lift your hand against those who are mine. I will not have this conversation with you again.”
This time I re-holster my gun before anyone can try to say anything to me about threatening the mafioso who happens to be my father. His enforcers look at me, and I can see that Alex’s eyes are wide not in horror but in pride.
I look at my father, see that for a man who just had a gun in his face he’s far to calm, and sure he could be used it, but something has me narrowing my eyebrows.
“Are you fucking shitting me,” I can’t help but mutter under my breath before I turn and glare at Cobra, “This is the fucked up world you grew up in isn’t it? Cause if it is it’s not fucking wonder you’re a god damn nutcase, this would drive me insane.”
Cobra large hand claps my back, but it’s his face the shines with parental pride .
“Welcome to the life Priest, welcome to the life,” he laughs, but it turns rather bitter for the man who usually shuffles his emotions to be sorted through at the end of the day.