Dante leered. “I wasn’t asking you to suck my dick, bro. I don’t swing that way.”
“What were you asking me then?”
“I wasn’t asking you nothing. I’m telling you. My brother’s a road man, and he makes his own choices. The Luis I know would lose his shit if he knew his little bitch was up in my face making claims on him like this, so why don’t you take your homo self out of here before you get hurt?”
Frustration ripped through Paolo. He squirmed in Dante’s hold. “You really don’t care, do you?”
“About what? Your opinion on what my brother should be doing?”
“It’s not my opinion. It’s got nothing to do with me.”
“So why are you here? Why are you in my yard talking about sucking my dick when my family business doesn’t concern you?”
“I don’t give a fuck about your business. I only care about Luis, and you’ve got to know whatever you’re doing to him is fucking him up. You can’t be so dense that you don’t understand that.”
Dante snorted. “That kid has always been fucked up. It don’t matter if he’s on the road or working at the damn supermarket, he’s never going to change, so if you’re waiting for him to turn into your ideal husband or whatever, you’re wasting your time.”
Paolo was beginning to believe he really was wasting his time, but not with Luis. It was Dante who was a gold-star oxygen thief, and the urge to tell him so danced with Paolo’s simmering temper. Only the knowledge that he’d be playing into Dante’s hands kept him quiet.Talk to him like he’s human. You might be the only one who ever bothers.But there was a reason for that. Dante wasn’t human. He was a cold pit of a man who’d forgotten how to be anything else. “Please,” Paolo ground out through gritted teeth. “Just leave him alone. He did his time for you so you could get on with whatever bullshit you do out here. Six years of his life. For you. Why can’t you just let him go?”
Dante’s expression changed. For a fleeting moment, he looked just like Luis; hurt, bewildered, and so lost Paolo almost felt sorry for him. But a heartbeat later, his face morphed back to the icy sneer that made Paolo hate him so much. “Newsflash,Paolo. Luis didn’t serve that time for me. He took the years toget away from me. Told me himself, so guess what? That’s how we roll now, so if your boy wants out of the life, he’s gonna have to do more years in the box, you feel me? And don’t count on him making it out alive this time. I got shanks everywhere, man.”
Paolo wasn’t up to speed on street talk, but the sentiment wasn’t lost on him. And it was clear the conversation was over.
Dante let him go.
Paolo straightened his rumpled clothes and walked to the door. With his hand on the cheap wood, he turned back, but Dante had already lit another smoke and reclaimed his place in front of the TV. He didn’t look up as Paolo backed out of the flat and left.
Outside, Asa escorted him down the stairs. Paolo ignored him, desperate to escape the stuffy building and feel the winter wind on his skin, as if it could cleanse him of Dante’s spiteful apathy. He felt dirty, inside and out. Scared, too. Dante was a caricature gangster, straight from a cartoon joke book. Alone, he was nothing. But Dante Pope was never alone. He had a network of mash men at his disposal. Men who’d cut someone to bits if Dante told them to. CutLuisto bits. Until that moment, Paolo had never believed Dante would hurt Luis in that way.
What if Paolo had changed his mind?
Brain racing, Paolo drifted home. Only the vague memory that he needed something from the shop stopped him going straight there.
He ducked into the Londis at the end of the high street. The after-work queue for cheap booze was long. Paolo considered joining them, but he’d been drunk all week, and his body was starting to protest. Running a cafe solo didn’t mix well with a skinful the night before.
Head down, he retreated to the chilled aisle and picked up a bottle of milk. A big one. Like Luis still spent days and days at his flat, brewing Paolo strong instant coffee while he drank his builder’s tea.Idiot. Stop acting like he shared your bed your entire adult life.
Paolo put the big bottle back and reached for the smallest one. There were other things he needed too, but he lacked the brain power to remember them.
The till was at the front of the shop. He joined the queue and scrolled through his phone to occupy himself while he waited. Nonna had sent him a garbled message from her ancient Nokia. No words, just random symbols and letters. He deleted it and opened the WhatsApp from Toni instead. Regretted it.Jesus. How many times is he gonna ask for Luis?Four, so far, and Paolo was running out of fibs to explain his absence. Sooner or later, he’d have to tell Toni the truth, but not yet. An Italian inquisition was something else, and Paolo didn’t have the spoons.
Gaze still on his phone, he moved forwards with the queue and straight into the back of the woman in front. “Sorry.”
The old woman shook her head. “You young people, obsessed with your phones. It’s a wonder more of you don’t get hit by the bus.”
Paolo opened his mouth to argue, but a tall figure at the till caught his attention. Dressed in sweats and a familiar grey hoodie, the man had a profile Paolo would’ve recognised anywhere.Luis. Somehow, Paolo had convinced himself he really would never see him again, and he was ridiculously unprepared. His heart flipped, his mouth went dry, and his phone slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor.
He bent to retrieve it. The old woman beat him to it and passed it over with another shake of her head.
Paolo grabbed the phone and lurched to his feet, but Luis had already left.
Milk forgotten, Paolo ditched it on the nearest shelf and fled the shop. He dashed out into the rain and checked in every direction for which way Luis had gone, but he was nowhere to be seen. Cursing, Paolo took a chance and headed in the opposite direction to Luis’s bedsit and towards his own flat, hoping beyond hope that perhaps Luis hadn’t gone home.
Despite the rain, the high street was lively with drinkers spilling out of the pubs and bars. Paolo shouldered through them and out through the park by the post office. The wind was fierce. Coupled with the howling rain, it forced his head down, and he was almost right on top of the bench before he spotted the slumped broad shoulders and hunched back.
For the second time in ten minutes, the sight of Luis stopped Paolo’s heart. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Logic told him to walk on by. That if Luis wanted to see him, he’d have come knocking by now or picked up the phone. But ordinary logic didn’t work for Luis. If Paolo wanted to fix this, he had to do it himself.
He took the long way round the bench so Luis would see him coming, but with his head down and his eyes half closed, Luis didn’t seem to notice.
