Page 119 of Fallen Rook

Me: Was it necessary to shit all over my family name right in front of my face?

The text had been read, but there was no response.

The door opened, and a short, graying man with eyes too close together swaggered in. Marini, I assumed.

“Ferrante, thanks for waiting.”

I nodded. “Business doin’ all right?”

“Better than ever. You know, most mafiosos charge protection and never do anything, but your men actually managed to beat the shit out of two punks who tried to rob us a week ago.”

“Be sure to leave a positive review on Yelp,” I mumbled distractedly.

Laughing, he slapped his checkbook on his desk, clicking his pen open. “What do I owe you?”

“Uh, twenty grand. For this month, and the last one.” He’d started scribbling when I raised a hand. “Cash only.”

The man looked up, surprised. “I don’t have that kinda cash handy.”

“Well, we can’t launder a fucking check from an Italian restaurant bang in the center of the city.” I wasn’t usually this tactless, but I was in a sour mood. “I’ll come back tomorrow morning to collect it.”

Marini put his pen down, faltering. “Sorry about that.”

“Shit happens. Tomorrow. Ten in the morning. If I don’t get it in full, I’m slapping on thirty percent interest for every day you’re late.”

I stalked through the door, now adding Luca’s piss-ass mood to my growing list of problems. He wasn’t going to like having to wait until tomorrow, but for Christ’s sake, I wasn’t gonna snap this dude’s legs with an entire battalion of FBI agents a few feet away.

I made a restroom stop, not because I needed to piss, but because I hoped Tom was waiting for me there, with an explanation and maybe a comforting kiss. No dice. The place was empty. I stared at the mirror, squeezing the edge of the sink before wiping my eyes to make sure they were dry. I felt sick and lightheaded.

“Pull yourself together.” I ran a hand over my face. “For God’s sake, motherfucker.”

I stopped at the bar on my way out, as far from his booth as possible, and asked for two fingers of whiskey. I needed to alleviate some of the tension before delivering more bad news to Luca.

The bartender slid the drink to me. “On the house.”

I tipped the tumbler in his direction, downing the contents like medicine.

“Hope you don’t intend on getting behind the wheel any time soon,” a voice rumbled to my left. My vision followed the barb. It led me to that Sully prick.

I decided to pretend not to know who he was, even though I’d seen him follow me and my brothers countless times. “Aw, are you worried for my safety, old man?”

“I’m worried for the safety of the entire city every minute you’re awake.”

So much for skating around formalities.

“Hey, I’m a prolific man.” I parked my elbows on the bar and leaned forward. I signaled the bartender for another round. “I can achieve a lot even in my sleep.”

“Doing what?” He thumbed the belt loop of his slacks.

“Waste management.” I guzzled my second drink.

He snorted. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“Not at all. It’s a family business. We have a registered company and everything. Look it up.”

Mainly for money-laundering purposes, but I left that part out.

Sully snarled, gesturing for the barkeep to get his table more brandy. Tom, I noticed, stuck to water.