Charlie abruptly slapped it away, sending the glass hurling like a suicide jumper to the floor. “Easy. You’d had enough,” he said sharply.
Bruno stumbled back a bit while mumbling indistinctly. “Brother, just because I don’t have to bullshit my way into a woman’s panties!” he mocked.
Charlie stepped between them like he was about the break up a fight.
The whore seethed in Charlie’s direction. “Do you want a coffee?”
Bruno gave her ass a light tap as she walked away.
Luckily, his brother always had his back. “You need to remember the woman you have at home. She’s far too good for the likes of you. But if you do this, you’ll lose her.
“Alright, alright,” Bruno said. He finished his cigarette and ground it out in an ashtray.
A look of disgust marred Charlie’s chiseled features, his icy gaze refusing to back down. “You’re totally off the rails.”
“So they all say,” Bruno remarked as he didn’t get up to leave.
“Bruno!” Charlie grabbed his arm with more strength than was his usual.
“I’m Bruno De Luca. I stop for no one.” Bruno tried to jerk free, but the guy was one determined bastard. “I’m fucking her tonight!” A girl with a body and a sexy strut.
“No you’re not,” Charlie yelled back at him. “If you wanted to get your rocks off, pull one off in the bathroom or go home to your woman.”
He had to go and ruin everything. The bastard.
He wasn’t releasing him. “Be careful Bruno. I’m the only man in this goddamn world who’s not afraid of you, you know that?”
“Those no good shitheads have taken the boss,” Bruno grumbled drunkenly.
“Why are you acting like the game’s already over when Castillo’s already won? His lawyers will get this all straightened out.”
Bruno shook his head. He understood life would not be normal for a very long time.
“And if not, well, you can’t say the guy didn’t have it coming. Christ, he’s as bad as they come.”
“What did you just say?” Bruno let out a gravelly tone somewhere between a growl and a huff. He wobbled as he got off his stool.
“I’m putting you in a cab home.”
“Why are you here anyway? Charlie...the recluse?” The Hermit. He had no friends, no visitors.
“I needed to check to see if you were ok. Marco told me you’d be here. He also told me to give you a letter. It’s from Castillo. You can have it when we’re in the taxi. Come on, I’m taking your sorry ass home.”
Going home in the car, Charlie handed Bruno the letter.
He tore it open at once. The letter told him should anything ever happen to him, that Bruno should arrange a meeting with a man named, Frankie Peterson.
Suddenly, his booze-fucked mind sobered. He felt terrible. In a day’s time, Castillo would stand trial and Bruno wasn’t sure he could be saved.
De Luca could only wonder what twisted curve ball fate had dumped in his lap.
Chapter Nine
Around and around it goes...
Rain pelted down, slashing at the windshield of the unmarked black sedan as it moved slowly through the traffic on San Diego street and turned right onto Courthouse square. A block away, a dozen members of the press shuffled impatiently at the foot of the steps of the courthouse, waiting for the notorious mob boss to arrive. The first day of the trial everyone had been waiting for…was finally here.
Hundreds of people lined up outside, cold, shivering, and drenched, either hoping to honor their hero or to see the infamous mafia kingpin take his final steps as a free man. It was the worst day California had seen in months. And still, the parking lot opposite the courthouse was jammed full. Some, the most devout supporters and the most hardcore haters, had been there for hours. Uniformed deputies stood at the perimeter of the plastic barriers to keep them under control. Squad cars cruised around the block, warding off trouble.
