"Are you sure you wanna go out?" I asked Bones. "Shit's gonna be crazy out there tonight."
He poured himself a glass of water. "That's exactly why I want to go out. This city is your goddamn birthright. You gotta be out there protecting it."
"Right." I couldn't help but chuckle. Ask a wiseguy a question and get a wise-ass answer.
The envelope in my jacket pocket had cost thirty grand, and I had no idea what was in it. I stashed it in the safe in my closet and we headed out again. Bones navigated as I drove us to the club he'd selected. The line was halfway down the block by the time we arrived.
"How do we want to play this," I asked. Being a Mariani did come with privileges, one of which being that lines were inconsequential.
"I got it." Bones pulled out his cell phone and started dialing. "Just park in the back."
After I parked, Bones led us to a back door. He knocked out a tune and a short, sexy Catwoman let us in and escorted us to a table in the VIP section. She pulled two capped beer bottles from her apron, setting them before us. As she walked away, Bones inspected the bottles before opening them himself. He took a sip of my beer, and then waited a few seconds before passing it to me.
I hated this ritual. It made me feel like wannabe royalty, but Father had enforced it the day my grandmother's cousin, Allessio, was poisoned in his own home. I was ten at the time, but I still remember the fear in my mom's eyes as she pulled me into her kitchen and began teaching me how to cook. Ever since, whatever I don't prepare myself is tasted by Bones. And he doesn't give a single fuck about whether or not it's bottled.
As we settled in with our beers, a group of belly dancers drifted closer, rolling their bodies as they watched us over their colorful sheer veils. There were always beautiful girls in the VIP lounge, trying to snag a man of power and means. I'd taken several to a hotel, but never home, and never for more than a night. Bones elbowed me and pointed out a curvy redhead. She was pretty, but all I could think about was Markie, the courageous, dimpled blonde from the airport. I couldn't see her in a place like this, dancing to attract the eye of a potential sugar daddy.
The dance floor was a mass of swaying bodies. A fight between a skeleton and a hippie broke out by the side door, but bouncers swooped in and carried off the offenders before it got out of hand.
"Come on," Bones said, elbowing me again and gesturing at the girls. "Two for you, two for me, it could be one hell of a night."
Trouble was, I'd had enough casual sex and wanted someone who didn't know a damn thing about my family and wasn't with me for what I could give them or do for them. Before I could tell Bones as much, a tall dark-skinned man approached our table and bid us a good evening. He wore a tight smile, a tailored suit, and the hair on his head looked like it was running away from his face.
"I'm Greg Pines, the manager here, and I wanted to stop by and personally welcome you."
"Thank you, Mr. Pines," I replied, trying not to notice the way his presence drew even more attention to our table. Two sexy spandex-clad super heroines waved at us, smiling. "The service has been prompt. Your people are very attentive."
"Happy to hear it. Thank you." He pulled a six-by-two-inch gray box out of his inside pocket and offered it to me. "Please accept this gift as a token of our appreciation of the family, and all you do for the city."
Bones took the box and angled it away from me as he opened it. Since it didn't explode or start ticking, he angled it toward me so I could see the contents. A beautiful hand-carved pocket knife sat atop a dark velvet liner. According to the knife's label, the blade was forged of Damascus steel and the dragon-carved handle was fashioned from twenty-four-karat gold and platinum. It was more than a gift. It was a business offering.
"My father will be pleased," I said, snapping the box closed.
Mr. Pines smiled and tilted his head. "If you need anything at all, please let me know. My card with my personal cell number is under the knife."
"Noted," I replied, careful not to commit to anything.
Mr. Pines thanked me for my time and left, and I went back to watching people on the dance floor as I sipped my beer.
Moments later Bones jolted out of his seat, knocking the chair back. "That lying asshole!" he shouted, glaring at the dance floor.
I tried to see who he was looking at, but the place was packed. "Who?" I asked.
"Matt Deter. That little fuck right there. The one wearing the giant condom wrapper. That bastard owes me five g's. I called him yesterday and he was whining that his mom was in the hospital and he needed to go take care of her. Looks like I need to sendhimto the hospital. Come on."
Bones glanced my direction long enough to make sure I stood and followed before he jumped over the railing.
I grabbed Mr. Pines's gift for my father and we took off, winding through the sea of bodies.
Matt turned toward us. He spotted Bones and his eyes bugged out. He turned away and headed the opposite direction. We followed him out the side door and searched the street, but Matt was gone.
Bones swore. "I did that dipshit a favor and he took advantage. I can't wait to get my hands around his scrawny neck."
"What are we gonna do now?" I asked.
"I know where he lives," Bones said. "Feel like coming along?"
I didn't have anything better to do, so I retrieved the Hummer and followed Bones's directions to a run-down apartment building off West Bonanza Road. We parked the car and crept up to apartment one-fourteen.
