Page 37 of Straightened Out

“You were there,” I remind him. “You know what fucking happened.”

He lifts his eyes to me.

“Are you getting loud with me?”

That’s it.

I’ve officially reached my breaking point. Fuck being calm, cool, and collected. It’s obviously got me nowhere.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You know what—I’ve had enough of this shit,” I shout. “I don’t give a fuck if you think I’m incompetent. So, I don’t have my shit together, at least I don’t fuck with innocent lives. Pilar is dead, something you’d know if you had bothered to stick around but you’re not the type to get your hands dirty so you sneak out the back door like a fucking phantom.”

Anticipating a verbal lashing for disrespecting him, I brace myself. He doesn’t deliver, though, and for some reason that angers me even more.

Totally unfazed, he says, “Pilar.”

“Yeah, Pilar,” I grind out. “If you did your homework, you’d know that Joaquin was deeply involved with her.”

He shoves the cigar between his lips and fishes a lighter from his pocket. Taking a puff, he looks at me thoughtfully.

“How did you handle it?”

I have no idea what he’s referring to.

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, I’ve got a lot of balls in the air.”

Too many.

“Well…” His voice trails as he takes another puff of the cigar, blowing the smoke directly in my face. I start to cough as he continues to carry on. “If what you say is true, I’m going to assume Joaquin wasn’t in the frame of mind to handle the aftermath, so tell me, Rocco, what did you do?”

“Is this another fucking test or perhaps a lesson in Mob 101? You really got a knack for this shit.” The guy should’ve been a professor instead of a gangster—imagine that.

“I asked you a question.”

Blowing out an exasperated breath, I angrily comb my fingers through my hair. Nothing shakes this man. Not a fucking thing.

“I cut the surveillance tapes in the restaurant, bought the owner, and cleared the guns. Then I took Violet back to my place and sent Omar to get Joaquin. The cops think Pablo’s guys came into the restaurant and opened gunfire, Pilar and Joaquin were just out to dinner and got stuck in the crossfire. There was no mention of you.”

Seemingly satisfied, he nods his head and takes another puff of the cigar.

“Where is Joaquin now?”

“Back at my place. The next couple of days are going to be rough—”

“The next couple of days are going to be business as usual. Did you forget the conversation we had earlier this evening? Your ass is getting on a plane tomorrow morning and you’re coming back to New York. We have a sit down in Queens tomorrow night. That’s where I’m going to introduce you to a couple of guys—”

It’s my turn to cut him off. I knew he was serious about me leaving, but I thought I had some time. A couple of days at least. That would be enough time to help Joaquin make funeral arrangements and get Violet on a plane back home.

“Hold up. I can’t leave tomorrow.”

“Sure you can and you will.”

Fuck that.

“Uncle Vic, Joaquin is in no frame of mind to handle things here and I got his sister…” My voice trails as he lifts an amused eyebrow.

Leaving Joaquin to deal with the ramifications of Pablo’s death is one thing. He knows when Uncle Vic says jump, I have no choice but to say how high. He’ll understand that much, but I gave my word that I’d take care of Violet. That I’d get her back home safe and sound before all hell imploded.

I won’t piss on my word.

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