One of his eyes is swollen shut, and the other one is a half-moon. He’s hurting, but that’s not going to be the end of it for him. I can’t let this kind of thing go unpunished. I haven’t decided if I’m going to kill him yet. There’s something to be said for dumping his body on Andretti’s doorstep, warning my rival to keep his men off my property.
But maybe I’m feeling generous. The kid obviously isn’t going anywhere if he can’t keep his mouth shut. Maybe I should let him off with just a warning. Of course, the warning is going tohave to be a bit more severe than what he’s experienced already. I want to put the fear of God into him. And I want to make it crystal clear that I’m not going to tolerate this kind of behavior.
I roll up my sleeves. The kid sees what I’m doing and starts blubbering. I’m going to have to talk to Frankie when I get home. I need to make him aware that he’s the vulnerable link in our family chain. Not that he doesn’t know that already, but I can’t have him bringing Andretti’s spies into our home.
“I want you to take another look at all of Frankie’s associates,” I tell Edoardo.
“Yes, boss,” Edoardo says.
“You listen to me,” I tell the kid, cracking my knuckles. “I can’t decide whether to let you off with a warning or not. You want to give me a good reason not to send your head over to Andretti in a box?”
“Please, Mr. Corello,” the kid whines, “I’ll never do it again.”
“Damned right, you’ll never do it again,” I swear. “’Cause you’re gonna move clear across the country. And if I ever see you again, I’m gonna finish what I’m about to start, do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” he cries.
And I light into him like I used to in the old days. I decide that this is punishment enough. If the kid survives the beating and manages to tell anyone else about it, he’ll explain how Don Corello took care of things personally. That’ll cement my reputation on the streets as someone you don’t want to mess with. I’m pretty pleased with the solution, since it doesn’t involve disposing of a body. I beat the kid until he’s barelybreathing, and then leave him on the floor for my men to clean up.
CHAPTER 7
MARLENA
“Igot the job!” my friend Rebecca screams at me over the phone.
“Congratulations!” I say, excited for her even though her success dredges up feelings of personal failure.
“We have to go out to celebrate,” Rebecca insists.
I’m sitting on the couch, painting my toenails. I’ve got a towel wrapped around my head, and I thought I was in for the night. It’s been a long day, and all I want to do is curl up with a pint of Rocky Road and watch something mindless on TV. I want to forget about Frankie and his intimidating father for the time being. But duty calls. I can’t leave my best friend hanging.
“Give me an hour,” I say.
“Okay,” she agrees. “I’ll pick you up.”
“No,” I reply quickly. I never accept rides from anyone. It’s too important to be able to leave whenever I want to. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I need the security blanket of my own vehicle. It’s yet another thing that life with my father taughtme. You can never rely on other people, no matter how close they seem. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay,” she says, not picking up on any of my neurotic subtext. “The Parakeet, don’t be late.”
“I won’t,” I promise. “Congratulations again.”
I hang up and continue working on my toes. After I’ve given them fifteen minutes to dry, I throw on some clothes. I’m not going to make the same mistake I made this morning. This time, I’m going to dress the part. I find one of my slinkiest club dresses in the back of my closet. How long has it been since I wore this one? It feels like ages.
I pull the dress on and go look at myself in the mirror. Something is missing. I try on a few necklaces and settle on a rhinestone choker. Very shocking. I apply some makeup and manage to make it out the door in under an hour.
The Parakeet is one of my favorite bars. It doesn’t have any of that mafia vibe that gave me the willies over at Frankie’s place. It’s brightly lit and fun, with happy music and a clientele that draws from the yuppies downtown rather than gamblers or thugs. But still, I have to be cautious. You never know when danger will strike, even in the most innocent of circumstances.
I say hi to the bouncer as I walk through the door, spotting Rebecca at a table in the corner. There’s a band on stage playing covers of Led Zeppelin songs. The singer is a little too clean cut to pull off a Robert Plant, but I give the drummer credit. I’m feeling way better than I did just hours before, and I’m glad I decided to come out tonight.
“Hey, girl,” I say, kissing Rebecca’s cheek.
“Hey, glad you could come out,” she responds, shimmering in her pearl-colored dress. “I’m looking to pick up one of these guys.”
“Which one?” I ask, glancing around the bar. There are a couple of college kids up front, and a guy who looks like he just stepped off a construction site near the door.
“Him,” Rebecca says, pointing at the construction worker.
“More power to you,” I say.
