Page 58 of Wild Card

Giovanni

The memory of Catriona’s sweet body on mine is still fresh as I walk to the corner store, but I need to keep my head on straight. Need to protect her and not be distracted by how incredible she makes me feel. I can’t let Lorenzo know that I love her. Can’t give him that leverage. I find him exactly where I expected, at a table in the rear of the store with one of the old timers, Tino Macalear. I sit between them.

“Did you have a good day with your sweetheart?”

“Lorenzo, don’t act like you have anyone to blame but yourself in all this.”

“Hmm,” he nods. “I suppose so.”

Tino gets up and moves to another table.

“You burned down my bakery.”

“Aw, poor you,” he snarls, using a little pencil to color in his Keno numbers.

“What’s wrong with you, Lorenzo?” I mean it genuinely. “What the fuck do you think you’re entitled to?”

He lets out a huff of laughter. “You have no idea, kid. I should be on top, not Freddie. But it didn’t work out that way, and now my own mother’s cut me off because of some dumb slut whose father won’t pay one fucking dime for her return.”

I want to choke him out for talking about Catriona like that, but that won’t help me keep her safe.

“I offered to sell Freddie my business,” I say. “Don’t act like none of us care about you.”

His shoulders stiffen. “You’re too good, kid.” His voice drips with sarcasm.

“I’d offer him the building, too, if it’d settle your debts and if I thought you’d stop working for him.”

He throws the small pencil at me. It bounces off my chest.

“He should be working for me, Gio.”

“Christ, Renzo, what the fuck do you mean?”

He sighs. “You know, Mama always said you were so fucking smart, just like Dante, but I just don’t see it.”

What the fuck am I missing here?

He rubs his temples.

“Kid, do you really think James Carney set your parents up? Framed them for money laundering?”

“What are you getting at, Renzo? Just spit it out.”

“James Carney offered your parents so much fucking money for that shitty little bakery. I told my idiot brother to take the deal. Take the deal and open something else.”

I curl my hands into fists.

“And?” I snap.

“They didn’t want it. They were happy, Gio. They wanted to move away from the power and risk that comes with being on top. They didn’t want Papa’s life.”

He stares at me.

“No? Still haven’t figured it out? Jesus, you’re pathetic.”

The edge of an idea forms at the back of my mind. Something too horrible to believe. My uncle seems to sense it and smiles toothily.

“I wanted that life, Gio. I wanted to be respected like my father. To be obeyed. Have my word be the be all and end all. So I made a deal.”

---