Page 36 of Straightened Out

“This is on him,” he sneers. “He staged that thing with Pablo to teach you a fucking lesson and created a war, one that took Pilar’s life.” The glass goes flying, nearly clipping me in the head before it crashes against the wall.

He doesn’t blame Victor, not really.

If there is anyone who genuinely respects my uncle in this business and doesn’t just kiss his ass, it’s the bitter man standing in front me. He’s hurt and desperate for revenge. He’s just talking out of his fucking ass.

“Joaquin—”

“Don’t! I know to you she was just a fucking a junkie, but there was more to her than drugs. So much more. She needed help. She needed someone to love her and put her first. I should’ve been that person. That’s what she wanted. She wanted me. She wanted a family and what did I give her? I’ll tell you what I gave her, I gave her five hundred dollars to get an abortion and then I gave her death.”

“You didn’t kill her,” I argue. “I know you’re angry and you have every right to be—”

“Spare me the bullshit, Rocco,” he scoffs. “You’re horrible at it.” He pauses and his eyes sweep around the room. “Where is my sister?”

“In my bedroom.”

He nods.

“You want to do something for me? See to it she gets home safely and sooner rather than later. I don’t trust those motherfuckers. We may have killed whoever showed up tonight, but I don’t doubt there isn’t a whole slew of Pablo’s men waiting to strike.”

I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with Violet and whatever the fuck my uncle has planned for me, but I don’t divulge that to Joaquin because the burner phone in my pants pocket vibrates.

Pulling it out, I stare at the screen.

Pier 52. Don’t be late.

This fucking guy.

I lift my head.

“I have to meet Uncle Vic,” I say, glancing behind me at Omar and Manny. “I’ll keep Omar here with you and Vi. Manny will come with me.” My eyes move back to Joaquin’s. “We’ll figure it out.”

I hope.

Chapter 12

Rocco Spinelli

Making my way through the shipping yard, I bypass the massive containers. In New York, my uncle has control over everything that comes and leaves in the containers, but here a guy like Pablo moves his drugs in them. The product is hidden inside household items and carted overseas. No one blinks an eye.

Just as I reach the pier, I recall everything Joaquin said before I left. At the time I told myself he didn’t really mean any of it, but there is some truth to his accusations. Uncle Vic put Pablo in our path to test me. He may have assumed I’d fail, but he knew Joaquin wouldn’t. No one was going to get away with selling drugs in Temptations and the second we struck, we declared war.

On Pablo and the men who control these piers.

On every motherfucking drug dealer in Miami.

My uncle might be an expert on power struggles in New York, but he doesn’t know jack shit about how things work around here. The mob doesn’t rule the streets here, the cartel does. And now, I’m starting to fear that I’m leaving Joaquin in the middle of a war, one he’s going to have to fight himself because I’ll be too busy pretending to be Al Capone.

Spotting Uncle Vic and the two bodyguards from earlier, I tell Manny to stay put and keep an eye out for any suspicious activity. I don’t think I was tailed, but I’m also a little preoccupied tonight. You know—murders, drug lords, naked ballerinas—they all take their toll and knock a man off his game.

“You’re late,” Uncle Vic calls the second his eyes land on me.

“By two fucking minutes,” I seethe. “Cut me some slack, Uncle Vic, my hands have been kind of full tonight.”

He unbuttons his suit jacket and reaches into the inside pocket, pulling out a cigar. It’s the middle of the night and the guy still looks like he’s ready to grace the cover of GQ magazine. How the fuck is that even possible?

“What happened?” he questions as he inspects the cigar.

Sure I heard him wrong, I stare at him for a beat. Either the cancer has spread to his brain or the man is just a sick fuck.

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