Page 7 of Capo

He scoffs. “I’m hungover. I got word from the PI yesterday. Still nothing. They’re either dead or out of the country. She’s been gone six months now. Like swallowed by the fucking earth.”

“This is about Kerry Jackson and the child?”

Christian looks away and doesn’t answer.

“I’ve never seen you so bent out of shape for anything. Ever.”

He sighs. “I’ve never fucked anything up like I did with her.”

I raise my eyebrows. “That’s true.”

“You should have just listened to me. She didn’t know shit. There was no reason to send me to kill her to begin with.”

“You should have done your job and just shot her, not go and fuck her. That’s where you fucked up.”

He’s silent again, his black eyes flashing.

“You love this girl?”

Christian darts up from his chair. “I don’t fucking know! I don’t want her to disappear with our baby. I wanna fucking make things right. She still thinks I want to kill her. Love.” He scoffs. “I don’t know what that is. Do you?”

I bark out a laugh. “I don’t do love. I fuck ‘em and leave ‘em. It’s dangerous to get attached, Christiano. Look at yourself, you’ve lost it. What’s so special with this girl?”

“You’ve met her,” he snarls and starts pacing the room.

I have. A tiny doe-eyed person, scared to death, and still she came here to bargain for her life. An impressive little lady. As it happens, also the mother of a Russo because my nephew forgot to use a condom when he put his cock in her. I liked her and I do see the appeal. I just don’t understand the obsession. The impression she’s made on Christian makes her dangerous because he has become reckless and a loose cannon.

“I’ve got a mission for you. It’s out of state.” I actually don’t, but I’ll find something. Right now I want him busy and out of my sight. He’ll come around eventually, but clearly it’s taking some time.

“What? The farther the better.”

“I’ll call you. Go get yourself some pussy.” I stand and walk around the desk, putting a hand on his shoulder. He’s clearly been working out. His muscles bulge and it feels as if I’m touching a slab of rock.

He shakes off my hand and I let it fall.

“Yeah,” he says darkly. “I know what I’ll do tonight.” He spins around and strides over to the door, ripping it open and slamming it shut behind him.

I shake my head, feeling almost sorry for whoever he hits up, and push the button on the intercom. “Ivan.”

“Sir?”

“Have a fucking carpenter come look at the hinges of my office door.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And have someone bring me a Grappa and an espresso.” I let go of the button, but then I push it again. “And a girl.”

“Any particular flavor?”

I ponder this a little. Young Kerry flashes before my mind. I’d never go for anyone Christian has claimed for his, out of respect for him, but right now she pisses me off like fuck and I need to take that out on someone.

“Redhead. Short. Slim.”

“Yes, sir.”

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