Page 78 of Salvatore

“I don’t want to go,” I tell Salvatore. “I don’t want to be a part of these lies.”

He curses under his breath and rubs at his jaw. “We have to. Otherwise Vin will take it as a sign of disrespect. According to him, Rita’s been cooking the gravy all day and is excited to meet you.”

“I don’t like this,” I insist.

“I don’t, either. But even if it’s just this one time, we have to be there.”

“Oh, my God,” I say, pushing the hair out of my face. “Does Rita know about Donnie?”

“It’s not our business, Aedry.”

It’s not, but . . . “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you were trying to be nice to Vin, because he was my boss. It was your birthday. When we got back to your place, I wanted to make it and keep it about you?not this shit he pulls all the fucking time.”

I never understood why Sal was so tight-lipped about who he works for. But now that I realize what kind of sleaze his employer is, I can’t blame him.

“I’m going to tell you something about Vin,” he says. “Something I don’t usually talk about.”

I expect him to tell me something worse, or that Donnie is one of many women he keeps around. But what he says makes me realize how complex his relationship with Vin really is.

“I wasn’t winning the case against the state for guardianship over my brothers,” he says. “I didn’t have the age, degree, or occupation to be considered an appropriate guardian. It didn’t matter I was the only family willing to step up. Or how much I love them. The court saw what they wanted to see, and it sure wasn’t anything that worked in my favor.”

The way he speaks reflects his frustration and likely the bitterness he experienced.

“Vin and me, we’d been friends for a long time. I’d helped him out when we were kids. He remembered and helped me when it mattered most.” He glances at me. “He paid for that big shot attorney and he gave me a job. If it wasn’t for him, Apollo and Gianno would have stayed in the system and been split apart.”

And likely molested and abused, he doesn’t mention. But he doesn’t have to. I’m familiar with the child welfare system, and I recognize how badly it’s broken.

“I had no one to turn to. All I had was Vin and he came through.” He shrugs. “I owe him, Aedry. I wish I didn’t, but I can’t forget what he did.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, not only for what he’s feeling now, but also for everything he went through.

He seems to realize, lifting my hand when I place it on his lap and squeezing it gently. I don’t like Vincent and I’m not certain Salvatore does either. But we both know what could have happened if Sal hadn’t been granted custody of his brothers.

As much as I’m grateful for what Vin did for Salvatore, and Gianno and Apollo, too, I can’t excuse his treatment of Donnie or his wife.

“I still don’t like this,” I say.

“I know. I don’t, either. We’ll go. We’ll play nice. And we’ll leave.”

“I don’t have to see him again?” I ask.

He looks at me then. “No. I swear to Christ, I’ll never let you near Vin again.”

We remain quiet the rest of the ride to Bergen County. It takes roughly half an hour for us to reach the gated community. I expect the security guard on watch to step out with a machine gun, or at least demand identification. But all he does is nod Sal’s way before the gates part and we’re allowed through.

The entire development is packed with opulent homes surrounded by even more gates. It’s all too much. No sense of community or home. This isn’t a place where a neighbor would knock on another’s door to borrow a cup of sugar, or where block parties would take place.

“I didn’t expect him to live like this, especially with the types of small businesses he owns.” My voice trails. “Sal, how does someone who owns the shops you described in the locations you mentioned live here?”

“Vin comes from old money,” he says. “And all those businesses add up. He has investments all over the country.”

“He does?”

“Yeah, but it’s the places here in Jersey that give him problems based on where they’re located.”

What he says makes sense. But I can’t shake the feeling there’s more to it. “This place is so over the top,” I say, when we pass another immense estate. “What kind of people live here?”

---