Bruno glanced over his shoulder to stare towards the commotion forming behind him. He saw the anger on Vincent Castillo’s face as he looked at Bruno and his men, still sitting on their chairs, staring at him with identical expressions of shock and bewilderment. It wasn’t often that something surprised Castillo. This evening, however, two uniformed police officers had come into the social club. Castillo didn’t understand why. What he understood was that he had been handcuffed and was now being read his rights in front of almost two hundred of his closest friends and associates.
Raising his voice so he could be heard by the entire crowd, the officer said, “Frank Castillo, you are being arrested for the murder of Gennero Caci.”
Castillo’s eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open. All he could think to say was, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
The room was near silent, murmurs weaving through the bar.
The larger officer proclaimed, “You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer any questions, but if you choose to speak, anything you say can be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney during questioning now or in the future. Do you understand?”
The room was dead silent now.
Castillo groaned. “What does this have to do with me?”
The two men in blue yanked him out of the booth with enough force to make him stumble forward.
“Take it easy will ya?” Castillo protested.
Whispers followed him as he left his VIP booth in the mob’s social club.
Cocky-ass-motherfuckers.It wasn’t only an arrest, it was a public shaming. “What is this? What’s your deal?” Bruno growled.
The officers didn’t meet his glare and neither did Castillo, his tanned face flushing with anger and embarrassment.
A few minutes later, the cops pulled away, with the crime family’s boss on the back seat.
Bruno began to pace back and forth. Anger exploding through his body. Freezing in his tracks, he turned to Marco. “Get his attorney on the line.” The big man felt his blood pressure rise. He needed an escape, time to think.
Storming out of the place, he drove out to a quiet little bar just outside town. His head was spinning and he needed to calm down, get numb if he had to.
For once, when he walked into the room, no one recognized him. He looked around, panning the scene… Just ahead, chicks serving drinks behind the bar. A couple of guys shooting pool off to the left. Same shit, different party.
What was out of the ordinary was the perfect ten he saw polishing glasses and his dark, burning eyes found her through the clear glass. A gold digger with a perfect figure, who liked to shake her ass and grind to the beat. So what? What was so wrong with having the time of his life when his future was slipping through the cracks?
She was a nice looking girl with an easy smile and breasts as large as her head. Bruno was keeping an eye on her as he continued ordering drinks from the bar. She looked like she could run a tight line in those heels, not one foot out of step then she tripped.
A drunk put his arm around her waist. “Get your filthy paws off me!” she screeched.
Yes, a sassy little spitfire he liked the look of.
Bruno rushed over to where she’d fallen and helped her to her feet. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” She buried her face in Bruno’s shirt. Bruno felt himself stiffen. He consoled her in his arms as he guided her to the barstool beside him. Making her sit down, he ordered them both a drink. “Like whiskey?”
Her eyes illuminated green, then turned a cool turquoise in the glow of her lighter. “Yes,” she answered, lighting up a cigarette.”
He threw an arm over her shoulder. His jokes were making her laugh when his puns were funny and even when they sucked.
She ribbed him playfully, inching closer to his lips. She gave him a sexy kiss on the cheek, and then the mouth. She was so fucking horny, toying with the cigarette smoldering between her fingers. Her skirt was hiked up to her upper thighs.
Halfway through their drinks, she was calm and happy. She liked him and sadly, he felt that way for her. Bruno sighed in defeat and threw back his whiskey. No denying it, they were heading for the deep end tonight. He was too engrossed in conversation to see who came through the door.
A brash groan sounded from behind him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Bruno didn’t have to look to know who it was. Hunched over the bar, half-cocked elbows perched on the lip, he turned his head slightly and caught Charlie out of the corner of his eye.
The whore was grasping at Bruno now, her fingers openly caressing his arm, her other hand caressing the front of his jeans.
“Getting drunk. And laid. What do you think I’m doing?” Bruno replied deadpan. He took down two glasses of whiskey, knocked down half of it in one sip, and sighed with satisfaction. Taking another pull of a glass of scotch… He then clamped his teeth around a cigarette and the whore lit it.
Her beauty hit him full force. A real feisty little firecracker. Bruno reached for another glass.
