CHAPTER 11
It also gave me a magnificent view of Vonnie and the car she and one of Frankie’s men crouched on the ground behind. From the back, it looked like a normal happy car that she probably drove here in, but bullet holes pocked the other side.
When she saw Frankie’s car slow to a stop in front of her, she stood up with both her hands on her hips, glaring at Frankie. “What are you going to tell my mom?” she asked, pointing to the car.
Her arms flailed around as she tried to point out every single hole, but there were too many. Frankie remained his calm, sensible self. “I’ll buy you a new one, Vonnie.”
Her mouth fell open in shock but not at his generosity. “Oh sure, because that will be easier to explain.” She walked toward the vehicle and her voice became high pitched. “No, Mom, the Camaro isn’t from selling drugs. I swear. It’s a replacement from mine being ruined in the last Pelican Bay shoot-out.”
She said “last” as if she needed to distinguish which shoot out. Had this happened in town before?
Frankie furled his eyebrows, giving the first hints of displeasure. “You’re not getting a Camaro.”
“I can’t believe you’d do me dirty like that, Frankie. Everyone knows you get a replacement Camaro.”
I expected him to yell, but I should’ve learned by that point it wasn’t Frankie’s style. “Just get in the car, Vonnie.”
Vonnie climbed into the car and buckled her seatbelt. We were almost out of Frankie’s driveway when his phone rang. He hit a button on the steering wheel, and my eyes lit up at the first sound of Westley swearing incoherently. We were raised on the streets of Chicago and had experience with sentence enhancers, but he used at least three different languages to cuss Frankie. The Maine mobster didn’t flinch until my cousin said, “You’re acting like a fucking zip.”
“Don’t you fucking dare talk about my behavior, you fucking miscreant. You’re nothing but a street rat. What exactly did you do to take over a Chicago mob at such a young age? Should we look into that?”
“I will take out every man in your operation single-handedly,” my cousin said. I finally decided to step in at that point. It was like two kids fighting in the schoolyard.
“Westley, calm down. I’m fine,” I had to yell to be heard over the ruckus he caused. My cousin always threw a good fit.
“Shiloh?” he asked, still yelling.
I glanced at Frankie to make sure he wouldn’t freak out with me talking to my cousin, but he stared straight ahead, driving the vehicle through the streets of Pelican Bay at a slow pace. “It’s me.”
“Greg just sent me a video of him taking out Zanetti’s house. Frankie used a fucking rocket launcher against him, Shiloh. What mess are you in now?”
Now?
Frankie chuckled as he stopped the car at the stop sign and put on his turn signal.
“Yeah, I saw.” Right then was not the time to mention that I’d been in the same room when they fired said rocket launcher.
“If you’re looking to acquire your own, I can get you a good deal,” Frankie said, stepping into the conversation. “You can use it to keep your cousin safer.”
“Don’t talk to me about keeping her safe. You’re the one who kidnapped her!” Westley returned to yelling.
“Exactly!” Frankie said, finally raising his voice to a matching volume. “I ripped her right out of your grasp and you didn’t even realize.”
The two of them bickered back and forth over who had the better ability to take care of me. More than once I wanted to remind them I didn’t need someone to care for me, but I had gotten kidnapped. It was also somewhat hot to hear Frankie argue and stand up to the notorious Grandmaster. I’d never heard anyone do it.
“I gave you the ten million. Stop fucking around,” Westley said.
Did he give Frankie the full amount?
Frankie didn’t even flinch. “It didn’t look like ten million.”
More swears from Westley. “Why didn’t you count it, asshole?”
He did it.
Westley had paid the full amount, but Frankie still brought me to Pelican Bay.
“I don’t have time to make sure you can count.”
