“I think I’m gonna go see him,” I let out in a whisper.
9. ROCCO
Face planting into my office, my brother Tomaso had arrived. He managed to hold a bottle of Grey Goose high above his head and laugh about protecting the things that mattered. Santo was in the office, standing with his back to the wall. He snarled at Tomaso, then looked away.
“You were getting help,” I said, dipping to a knee in front of him. “We’ve all had to give up our vices.”
“Yeah, you don’t see me going out racking up thousands in hotel bills,” Santo said. “I’m not smoking, I’m just—”
Tomaso’s drunken eyes rolled around. There was nobody there, at least not the Tomaso I’d grown up with. “You’re both trying to keep me fucked up,” he said. “You both want someone to blame when shit happens. Because if you don’t remember, I’ve always been there for you. For both of you.” As he tried lifting his head to drink more of the vodka, I managed to yank it away.
“You’re gonna say something you don’t mean,” I said, putting the bottle on my desk, and Santo immediately grabbed it for a sip. “You need to stop trying to numb the pain with alcohol. And you need to speak to Mom. She needs to hear from you.”
He spat, and it landed on himself. “You’re not even one of us,” he said.
I punched him square on the nose. His head went back down onto the ground, and I glanced to Santo, who shrugged. “I wasn’t gonna let him speak to me like that,” I said.
“He’s a fucking dick for that,” he said. “You’re a brother. He’d never let anyone say otherwise, so he’s probably only saying it to you now because he wants to hurt you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, standing and brushing my hands down my shirt. “If Mom had heard him say that, I think she would have done the same.”
Santo laughed. “Oh, he’d be in the basement for it.”
“Probably the best place for him,” I said.
He passed me the vodka bottle. I needed a giant glug of it. It went down smooth. I sighed, looking at our brother on the ground, his T-shirt halfway up his torso. His sweatpants and jacket combo were the cherry on the cake. Probably the clothes he’d worn when we checked him into the facility. He’d wanted to get help as well, it wasn’t purely forced on him.
“You take the legs, I’ll take the arms, and we’ll take him home,” Santo said.
“No way, you get the legs, he’s a kicker,” I said.
“Fine, whatever,” Santo grumbled. “Check him for knives first. I can’t be fucked around with his stabby tendencies. And I’ve got Isaiah waiting for me at home.”
I was jealous. I wanted someoneat home, and if I’d left Kalen cuffed to the wall, I would have, but there was no way I was going to keep him there. I just hoped he was packed up and on his way out of the state. There was a small pit in me, like a wound which wasn’t capable of healing on its own. “Think I need an assistant,” I said.
“Someone you can fuck, you mean,” Santo said, shaking his head. “No. Tomaso isn’t getting one either. Unless you’re getting the type of woman dad would’ve thrown at you.”
A shudder ran through me, forcing me to tighten up and flex my pecs inside my shirt. “Tommy would love that, actually,” I said. “Pansexuality, right?”
Santo shrugged. “Think so, but I only ever see him with guys.”
“I’m just saying, you can’t be too careful. He’d probably hump a footstool if there was an opening.”
Standing over our brother, we watched him beginning to fuss through the drunken stupor—and maybe I hadn’t punched him hard enough, especially since the comment he’d made meant he probably should’ve been given another punch or a much harder one. His nose wasn’t even bloody.
“We’re taking your car,” Santo said. “I’m not letting him in mine again. Unless he’s in the trunk and wrapped in a curtain or something absorbent.”
This wasn’t the first time we’d had to take care of Tomaso, and yes, he’d managed to piss inbothof our cars already. That was before we had men from the organization to drive us around, when we drove ourselves, but it didn’t matter, because it had happened and it wasn’t about to happen again.
“I’ll get Roland to come help,” I said. “We can use my car.”
Santo laughed. “And that’s why I’m the eldest. I’ll call Mom and let her know we’re on our way.”
It was getting late, but we needed Tomaso out of the way. We couldn’t jeopardize the poker game this weekend, and he would probably get in the way of it. Once I left the office and Santo to deal with our brother in case he woke, I sucked in a deep breath, pushing out my chest. I walked right through the people at the bar, and around tables with seated guests, most of them wanting to greet me as the owner. It was at that point I realized how stupid it might’ve been to even try and get Tomaso out of here—unless weWeekend at Berniedhim into making everyone think we were just traveling our drunken brother out.
Lost, and almost stuck trying to think of what I should do, I walked right into Kalen, right outside the large arched doors into the restaurant.He smiled at me.
“What are you—”
