Page 67 of Delivered in White

Every night that goes by makes me think NickyFritsis more of a boogeyman than a real person. Trino’s frustrated he hasn’t been able to find him, and that his crew is giving him the runaround. So the threat of the Lucrazis is still at large, but it’s less prevalent, I guess.

Some good news – he seemingly settled that incident with Jerry Undercutof the cartel. Apparently that goon who stole from GFE Plus was on a solo heroine bender and Trino’s establishment happened to be the next target.

Let’s just say… he was taken care of, according to Trino.

Man, this mafia world is freakin’bananas. All of a sudden, Jacky’s crazy music festival stories pale in comparison to the life I’ve been living. I do miss them, though. And my lawyer brain has been on overdrive ever since I’ve been deprived of ripping through contracts. I told Bruno that their liquor license can be challenged because it’s under a shell company name with a different address than the premises, and that he should have working cameras in all of the private dance stalls in the event of inspection. He assures me the cops and inspectors are ‘taken care of,’ but the funny thing is, he put new cameras up in some of the stalls the next day.

“Heard you been giving Bruno a run for his money. Said you’re a pisser.” Trino opens the garage gate to pull us in at three in the morning.

Yeah, I’m kind of an owl now. There’re minor rims under my eyes from the transition, but nothing a little makeup can’t fix.

“If by pisser, you mean ultra-diligent legal counsel looking out for the best intentions of Star Dust, I guess you’re right.”

He shakes his head. “How the fuck did I stumble upon you?”

We head upstairs, and there’s an air of sadness about him, just like the last few days. We’ve messed around every night except for the last two, and it’s been amazing. So amazing that the high carried me all through the night at work. Still haven’t let him fuck me though.

Kudos to me, right? Resisting a six-foot-two tattooed model charged with protecting my life with his own ain’t easy.

Anyway, I hope it’s not something I did that makes him upset.

I give him his space as I go upstairs and freshen up before bed. He’s been leaving multiple newly purchased pajama outfits for me to choose from. Makes me think he has some kind of clothing line or warehouse service he hasn’t yet told me about. Wouldn’t put it past him. The man’s a damn hustler if I ever heard of one.

After washing my face and giving myself a bird bath in the bidet, I sneak out of the bathroom to overlook the balcony. My bare feet don’t make any noise as I glimpse him standing there on the floor below. Every step I take shows a little bit more, until I see him holding a picture of him and his parents.

My heart breaks.

His fingers graze over his mother’s cheek. I wonder what happened to her? Did she pass when he was a teenager? His attention shifts to his father. There’s a genuine smile on Stanzo’s face as he’s rustling the hair of a young Trino. Goddamn has the old man wilted since then. His stature is so strong in that picture, like nothing could ruin that moment.

Trino’s head remains hunched as he gazes, probably lost in cherished memories.

I want to run down the stairs and give him a hug, but he’d probably push me off of him. Men like him don’t get to be vulnerable in public.

He sighs and walks over to the sleek TV unit, and I’m shocked to see him actually put up the frame. That would makeonein the whole house, from what I can see. I thought he kept the place serial killer barren because of his OCD or something. Poor guy must be hurting.

“Do you have something to say?” his deep voice makes me jump in place.

“Jesus!” I put my hand on my chest. “N—no. Didn’t want to interrupt your moment.” I start down the stairs now that I’m caught. “How’d you hear me? I’m like Tinker Bell when I have no shoes on.”

“Reflection in the frame, stupid.” He hides his smirk, tracing me with his sad eyes as I make it to the first floor.

“You’re worried about your father.” I frown, walking up to him.

He huffs and turns away.

“Go see him, Trino. I’ll come with if you want.”

“Nicky Frits in hiding means he’s watching us, Capri. If we went to visit our folks now, we’d be leading him straight to his prize.”

I push my lips to one side. “You sure you’re not being paranoid?”

“That’s what keeps us breathing,” he assures.

I rub his shoulder to console him. He’s so tense.

“You saw him at the wedding. What’d you think?” he asks, his massive back toward me.

“I think he needs medicine, Trino. Is he not taking what he’s supposed to?”

---