Page 19 of Straightened Out

“What are you talking about? How did Vic know?”

Leaning back against the leather cushions, I spread my arms along the back of the couch.

Like I said, he’s got his head so far up Pilar’s cunt, he can’t think straight. If that ever happens to me, put me out of my misery. A clean shot to the fucking head. Right between the eyes.Please and thank you.

“Did you ever stop to ask yourself how Pablo was allowed into the club?” I ask.

He considers the question for a moment.

“Omar said he was on the guest list, which is crazy because I checked the list earlier in the afternoon. I didn’t have a chance to dig deeper into it because Victor suddenly appeared, and I had to get back to Pilar.”

I shake my head.

“Victor put Pablo on the list.”

“What? That makes no sense.”

“It was a fucking test, one I apparently passed thanks to you.”

“A test,” he repeats. “Why the fuck would he test us?”

I asked myself the same question, but then it all started to click for me. When a man like Uncle Vic gets diagnosed with a terminal disease, he doesn’t grieve his life or cry woe is me. He swallows his bad karma and makes a plan so that long after he’s left this world, his mark remains. I have no doubt that the man is cleaning house, deciding who gets lowered into a shallow grave and who makes rank. After he caught wind of that shit with Mitch, he probably had me on his hit list—hence this last stint of his. He needed proof I was worthy of a place in his organization.

“Bro,” I call, forcing Joaquin’s eyes back to mine. “I don’t know for sure, and I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but what if he was testingmebecause he’s finally decided to make me a made guy.”

It makes sense. After all, whoever Uncle Vic chooses as his successor will need a fucking army of men behind him. The five families are all going to be gunning for a piece of the pie. The streets are going to be a war zone as they all try to claim the Pastore territory and blood will be shed.

“Wait a minute,” Joaquin says. “When you say Victor set us up with Pablo, what does that mean?”

He must’ve not heard the part where I said there’s a possibility of me becoming a made man.

“He put his name on the list to see how I’d handle having a well-known drug dealer on my turf,” I explain, huffing out an exasperated breath. “You know how he feels about drugs.”

I stare at him for a beat, gauging his reaction, waiting for him to fit all the pieces.

“So because Victor wanted to test you, Pablo was allowed in the club with his drugs. Was Pilar part of the plan too or was she just a fucking coincidental casualty?”

For crying out loud, he’s worse off than I thought.

“Uncle Vic has no idea who Pilar is,” I snap. He needs someone to drum the hard truth into his thick skull and luckily for him, I’m feeling generous. “Man, get that shit out of your head. You’re looking for someone to blame when the truth is, Pilar is a junkie. She knows where to get her shit and if it wasn’t Pablo, it would’ve been someone else. You put a drug dealer in a room with people looking for an escape, the dealer is gonna score—all Uncle Vic did was set the stage for what he knew was inevitable.”

He doesn’t respond. I inch forward, keeping my eyes on him as he silently works out the shit in his head.Christ.

“Fuck, you’re in love with her,” I exclaim. His eyes cut to me and an unfamiliar expression slices through his features. Despair. Guilt. Regret.

“She was pregnant.”

And you people wonder why I always got a drink in my hand.

“What do you mean,was?”

“She had an abortion.”

Secrets.

We’ve all got them.

“Jesus, man, and you said not to drink this early,” I grunt.

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