But Dory didn’t break a smile. Although he mainly spoke Italian, he was fluent in English too. He spoke English. “I told you not to call me that.”
Bella hesitated and Mick could see the pain on her face. She was a woman who gave so much of herself to others, but all she got in return was rancid disdain. She deserved a lot of thatdisdain: Mick would be the first one to admit it. A lot, but not all. And especially coming from her own child.
But Bella was a tough broad too. “I named you Dorian and that’s what I will call you,” Bella responded.
“That’s not what he’s talking about,” said the older man who sat at Dory’s bedside. Mick knew him as Buddy “the Butcher” Gatlin, a very unrepentant, knife-wielding strongman who had no limits either.
But Bella didn’t know him at all. “And who are you?”
“He’s my second-in-command,” Dory said. “He’s my right-hand man. He’s my brother, that’s who he is. And he’s right. You can call me Dorian all you please. But nobody,” Dory said as he looked past Bella to Mick, “calls me son. Nobody!”
Mick returned the stare. Then he walked up to the young man. “Hello son,” he said intentionally.
Dory and Mick continued to stare at each other. The Butcher was staring too. He was Dory’s adviser above all else, and he would have never advised him to try and go toe-to-toe with Mick the Tick. Nobody wins going toe-to-toe with that man.
What fascinated Mick was the fact that Dory’s eyes were his eyes. He had Bella’s skin tone, and Bella’s style of beauty, but he had Mick’s eyes. Green, hard, and cold. Even Mick’s sleepy eye was his eye too. How could they not have seen that? How couldhenot have seen it?
Because Ron Toscano, a powerful mob boss in his own right back then, didn’t want to see it. And neither did Mick. For very different reasons.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” said Dory, who didn’t want to see it either. “You aren’t my father and never will be.”
Mick was still staring at him. “I agree.”
“I only have one father and that’s all I’ll ever have.”
Mick could see the pain in the young man’s eyes when he said the word father. He truly loved Ron Toscano. Why would Ron turn on him like that? “I agree,” Mick said.
“I don’t want you as my father.”
“And I don’t want you as my son,” Mick fired back and Buddy quickly looked at Dory. He could see the pain in his eyes when Mick verbalized that truth. Dory was accustomed to lashing out at everybody. He rarely got it back in return. But Buddy knew he never been up against a legend like Sinatra.
But Dory kept fighting. “Then why are you here?” he asked Mick. “You and my so-called mother can turn around right now and go back under the rocks y’all came from. I don’t need either one of you.”
Tears appeared in Bella’s eyes. “I know I haven’t been here for you, son, but you know how hard I work.”
Dory nearly jumped out of that bed with rage. “Bullshit!” he yelled. “You were busy chasing Mick the Tick around America to have time for me. So don’t even try that shit on me.” He was pointing angrily at his mother. “And stop calling me son. I’m not your son. Don’t even try it!”
Mick’s heart dropped just watching the bitterness in that young man’s face. He and Bella failed him. There were no two ways about it. And it was heartbreaking to see.
But Mick would be a dead man walking if he lived in the past. “What’s done is done,” he said. “Get over it.”
Buddy the Butcher looked at Dory. He just knew Dory would snap back at the man even he could see was Dory’s real father. But Dory didn’t snap at all. He looked admiringly at Mick. Everybody in his spear feared him and were proverbial yes men to his tough-man persona. But Mick wasn’t one of those men.
And besides, Dory knew Mick was right. He had to get over that shit. “Why are you here?” he asked Mick. “Did he sendyou here to try to force me to call a truce? Well you can tell his self-righteous ass that as soon as I get back on my feet, I’ll make a truce alright. I’ll show him a truce alright.”
Mick had no clue who he was talking about. His guys around Italy tried to get details, but everybody in that region were too afraid of Dory to give up any intel. “Ask Dory,” was what they told Mick’s guys.
Now Mick was doing just that. “What happened?” he asked him.
Buddy the Butcher was relieved that Mick was willing to move on. But it was Buddy, not Dory, who told the story. “We were at the pub. Just minding our own business. Then Danny comes up on us.”
“Who’s Danny?” asked Mick.
“Who you think?” asked Dory. “Danny Cerva.”
Mick didn’t show it, but he was shocked.
Since the butcher didn’t see any reaction from Mick, he kept talking. “So Danny comes up on us talking about how Dory was fooling around with his girl.”
