“Get to the point,” I said, needing answers on why they were being so secretive together.
Rocco smiled at me as if it would trigger a memory. “We always told each other we’d find partners, we’d all get married, and it’s legal now, we don’t have to leave the country or whatever. We can build on Dad’s empire, make it gay as fuck.”
“We are,” I said. The LGBTQ center was going to be the first thing we did. “So, what’s this got to do with it all?”
“Tomaso is jealous,” he said, and Tomaso tried to protest, but this time, there was vomit—all liquid, all clear. “We’re stillstuck in Dad’s world, but you’re changing it. I look up to you for it. Tom is working through it.”
My phone rang. It was Ronnie. “Thank you, but come on, guys, if we look weak to them—throwing up, being wasted—people are going to leave, people are going to try and take us down.” I answered the call to the sound of gunfire. A numbness traveled down the side of my face. It was loud enough for my brothers to hear, and they both perked up.
Ronnie’s voice come through. “They’ve got him. I’m sorry, sir.”
***
Gunshots. Bullets cracked and whipped into walls of a nearby run-down area.
My mind hadn’t gone to screaming or anger. I took control of everything. I sent Tomaso to our mom where she’d lock him in the basement to sober up. And Rocco followed behind, minutes after me. Ronnie was right outside the tower block when I got there. I’d sent the coordinates to him from the bracelet Isaiah was wearing.
“He’s somewhere in there,” I said.
A whip of a bullet collided with the van Rocco had driven, half, filled with Isaiah’s things. The van was reinforced, and no bullets were getting through it anytime soon.
“I’m not mad at you,” I told Ronnie, hoping he’d stop looking like a puppy that had fucked up. The truth was, he had fucked up for not being there, but I’d fucked up even more for ever letting Isaiah do this alone, especially whenI knew the Cordellos ran that area and had probably been waiting for him to be alone.
“What’s the plan?” Rocco asked as another bullet thumped against the van with adink.
“We kill them all,” I said, smiling. “Shame Tomaso is going to miss this. I’m sure he’d love to get his hands dirty.”
Rocco opened the side of his suit jacket—he was double holstered. “Not sure we have the bullets,” he said. “I’ll call for more guys.”
“I have a semi-auto in the van,” Ronnie said. “I can—”
“No. I’m not going to try hitting everyone in one go. This needs to be one at a time, no other people have to get hurt,” I said. “Got it?”
“Got it,” they said together.
A voice called out from behind the dirty brick tower apartment block. “We wanna talk.”
With the van as cover, I took a shot with my Glock 40—perfect for a precision shot. I got the leg.
He screamed, pulling himself to the side away from my view.
“You don’t get to demand that,” I called out. “Give me Isaiah, or I’ll make it a whole lot more painful for you.”
And there he was, bound and gagged to a wooden chair. We lowered our weapons as the three larger men behind him—including the one with the wounded leg—stood him up. And from behind them, came another. Locke fucking Cordello. Son of Marcello Cordello. It was as funny a name as he was a man. No wonder he couldn’t keep his territory clean—everyone was hopped up on drugs and deep in debt to their family.
“Santo,” Locke said. “Sorry about your father. We heard you put a pillow over his face at the end.”
I smirked at the idea. “Why have you kidnapped Isaiah?” I asked. “What could you possibly get from him?”
“You,” Locke snickered. “C’mon, eldest son to eldest son, we’ve always been in competition with each other. And this isn’t retaliation for Peter. Peter had it coming. Working for both of us.Getting that kid killed. We know you had to do what you had to do.”
For the briefest of moments, when I wasn’t locked in on staring at my sweet Isaiah, I saw Locke’s smug face. We’d been in different schooling districts—my school was private, and his was a fucking mess. We’d played ice hockey against each other. He’d told me he was gonna go play for the Bruins. I knocked one of his teeth out.
“Don’t fuck yourself over and take a bigger bite than you should,” I said. “Since you’ve got that false one in the front there. Now, untie Isaiah, and I promise I won’t slit your throat and let my mom use you for fertilizer.”He frowned at me, but I was just getting started. This was the first time I was getting my hands dirty. The first time I was putting myself in the way of harm, and it felt good. “That’s your only choice here, Locke.”
“I wanna make a deal,” he said, as if I’d just spoken to a brick wall.
Rocco snickered at my side. “I wanna hear it,” he whispered, and there was some curiosity.
