It was official. I was in hell. And it wasn’t even summer yet.
CHAPTER3
Leonora
No surprise,Angelo’s arm was broken. And it didn’t happen on his bike, though that was the story he fed to the medical staff. He also told them I took him as soon as it happened, which made me feel like a horrible…everything.
Sister, legal guardian, person.
I was trying my best, but my best didn’t ever seem good enough.
Especially after Phoenix told me what had happened. Angelo decided to get a job working as an errand boy for a man named Jerry Rispoli. It was no great mystery he was connected to the mob. I had no clue to who, but I was going to find out.
What kind of heartless bastard breaks a kid’s arm? And because he was late?
That was my fault too. I’d been late for work, and Angelo didn’t want me to know he was going out. He knew I’d lose my shit if I ever found out he was working for the underground scene around here.
He was so much like our dad, even though he hadn’t been around him that much. It was scary.
I rubbed my head against his hospital door. I had no clue what to do about all of this. My first instinct was to call my mom, but she was no help.
They were going to admit Angelo because the break needed surgery.
What kind of sister/parent was I to allow this to happen?
Phoenix squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. The reason he did it was to help with money. We hate to see you struggling.”
Turning my head a fraction, I met his eyes.
“Don’t give up on us, Leonora. You’re all we have.” He squeezed my hand and walked into Angelo’s room.
I sighed, not really knowing where to place his kind words. I rarely heard them, but I stuffed them away for later.
Help was really needed, though. Angelo needed things boys need in the hospital. New pajamas, stuff to read, a toothbrush. I also needed to go to work in a few hours. Not only because of the money, but because I was going to drill Vinny until he gave up who Jerry Rispoli worked for. Vinny wasn’t connected, per se, but he knew everything and everyone. He was a weasel of the underworld.
My cellphone pinged, and I pulled it out.
It was Georgia, or as Vinny called her, George. He always turned our names into male ones. He said it was safer if we didn’t use our real names, and it would help him remember if they were close to the original.
Georgia became George. Leonora became Leo. Roxy became Robby. Francine became Frankie. The new girl, Raquel, became Rocky, though it seemed like that was her nickname anyway. Etc.
Georgia and I started working for Vinny at the same time. I was seventeen and so was she. So…about eleven years ago. We worked our way up to management, even in a dive like Dynamic.
A year ago, Georgia met and married a connected man, Joe Fedele. She told me he paid the bills, gave her extra cash, and left her alone most of the time. It was a good match for her.
“I can hear you breathing heavy on the other side of the line.” Her southern drawl was heavy, and it made her sound sweet. Which she was, unless she was crossed. “Panic or exercising? Since your metabolism is a racehorse, I’m betting on the first.”
The timing of her call was too perfect. I looked around, even though I knew the rat wasn’t going to be wearing a neon sign. Someone must have called Francine, the nurse in making, and told her. I was still wearing my Dynamic T-shirt and cut-off shorts.
“Francine told you?”
“Yeah. Thought you could use a little Georgia love. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I could use a lot of it. And I didn’t want to bother you.”
“What’s going on, Leo?”
I told her.
