Page 19 of Mob Knight

That’s a requirement our parents set up for us when we were learning to talk. We never swear at each other, and we never go a day without telling each other we love them. Since I talk to almost everybody in my family every day, that’s easy to do.

We understand how temporary life is since we’re always on death’s doorstep. Our parents taught us the last thing you say to somebody should never be harsh words since you might never get to take them back. In their minds, we should say it every single time we talk to each other. That doesn’t always happen since we usually talk to each other multiple times a day eitherby text, call, or seeing each other. But it always happens at least once.

Our parents usually insist we only speak Irish when we’re with them. We normally do in front of them, but their fear we’ll forget the language is wasted since we all lapse into Irish and switch between that and English as naturally as we breathe. By the time we each started kindergarten, we were fluent in both languages; reading, writing, and speaking, even if it was just simple stuff.

A set of sisters married a set of brothers. All six of them learned English only just before they went to kindergarten. It’s not because they were new arrivals. Our families have been in the U.S. for generations, but we want to preserve that family tradition, and it’s best for business.

It often pays to speak a language whomever we’re negotiating with can’t. When we’re on missions, we try not to speak at all. But if we have to, it’s in Irish. No point in giving away what we’re going to do next just so the enemy can find us. We’re all big enough and with bright red hair to stand out. We don’t need to make being a target any easier.

Seamus takes off, and I turn my attention back to my computer. My mind once again goes back to Pablo and wondering if there’s more between him and Joey than she’ll admit.

I considered following her yesterday, but I drew the limit at that. I wonder where she is now. I wonder where Pablo went yesterday since I’m certain he went back to see Ignacio to reinforce the message he left with the bodega owner. Supposedly, anybody in that neighborhood is off limits, but I don’t think Pablo knows everyone we’re doing business with.

I’ll have to go back soon to collect on more protection payments. It’s not like people do a direct deposit to us or PayPal or Venmo it. There’s no digital payment set up for somethinglike that because the last thing we need is anybody tracking that money. We’re certainly disinclined to pay taxes on it.

I look at my calendar to see when I’ll have time for that tomorrow since I have several client meetings already lined up. We’re always in the midst of some merger or acquisition or sale. We flip corporations much like some people flip houses. Some we buy and hold on to, but many we buy, make sure they appreciate, then sell at a profit.

Others we break down into smaller parts and sell those off or turn them into shell corporations too. We’re careful not to commit excessive tax evasion because we’re not going down like Al Capone. A little humility goes a long way, so we ensure we look on the up and up as much as possible.

Joey’s still on my mind when I turn in for the night. I don’t wake up thinking about her, but as I conclude my last client meeting and head over to Port Richmond, once again, I’m thinking of her. As I find a parking spot, I look around and wonder if she’s here too or if she’s in a different neighborhood. Unfortunately, she’s not the one I recognize.

Dios mio, thathijo de putais here again.

I release a beleaguered sigh as I lock my car. None of our cars are straight off the factory line. They all have customization. Not just my family’s, but the vehicles belonging to all the Four Families are like that. They don’t beep when we lock or unlock them. The headlights don’t flash when we lock or unlock them. And the dome light goes on if there’s a bomb underneath our car. Normally, they don’t turn on because we don’t need the interior being illuminated when we’re trying to be inconspicuous.

Pablo spots me at the same moment I spot him. His scowl is going to stick one of these days. Maybe I should slap him upside the back of the head and see if that old wives’ tale is true. Lord knows I’ve slapped him across the face and knocked that smirk off it more than once.

He’s grinning at me by the time I cross the road. I’m willing to meet him on his side of the street rather than being stubborn and thinking he’ll come to me. I want this conversation over as soon as possible. He is not who I want to waste my time with today.

“I thought you understood you aren’t welcome back here.”

“I have memory problems.”

“The hell you do. You have a memory like a fucking steel trap. I’m positive you remember the conversation we had two days ago.”

“Maybe.”

I shrug and return his grin. It’s patronizing as fuck, and I know it irritates him, but I’m just fine with that. We’ve never been friends, and I’m not looking to make friends with him now.

“Look, Cor, you know this is our neighborhood. Just butt out. Go somewhere else. Go find a Russian one and fuck with the Kutsenkos instead of us.”

“What, and forget to return the favor for all the trouble you’ve caused my family lately? No, I think not. I think one good deed begets another and shouldn’t go unpunished.”

He doesn’t care for my mixed idioms. I’m pretty sure he would snarl at me if there weren’t people around. I should give him a hard time about how he sounds like a baby walrus when he does.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on your suggestion and find a new neighborhood to take from the Kutsenkos. But we’re not going anywhere until we collect the last of what’s due here. So, either you pay up for youramigosor they pay up. One way or another, we’re getting our money. I’ve got a baseball bat in the back of the car. I’m happy to use it, whether it’s against your kneecaps or against some windows.”

“You’re not doing shit. You’ve always talked a big game, Cormac, but there’s nothing you’re going to do while my men and I are here.”

“Yeah, but you won’t sleep in a neighborhood like this. You’re going home at some point. I’ve always been able to wait you out. Nothing’s changed about that.”

“I bet you’re waiting for Jocelyn Bracero.”

It shocks me to hear Joey’s name from Pablo. I’ve been worrying they might be connected. Now, it’s confirmed. I don’t know why it surprises me so much, but my expression gives nothing away. I’ve always had a poker face.

The other guys in the Four Families had to learn not to give their thoughts and emotions away, but it came naturally to me. I’m the most stoic in our family. I was the kid who would have the hundred-and-four fever and tell my parents that I felt a little off.

Seamus was the one who would point to wherever he didn’t feel well and say, “it hurts right here.” I’d be nearly on death’s doorstep before I would go to my parents and say something was wrong. I just have a higher pain tolerance than most, and that’s always terrified my parents because they fear one of these days, I’m going to be injured worse than I realize. They fear I won’t admit I need help until it’s too late, but I’ve learned my lesson about that. If somebody else in the family insists I need to get checked out, even if I don’t agree, I do.

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