Page 52 of Southie
“There’s no way in hell you’d give up on someone who loves you. She just needs time. Give her space to come to grips with everything, then go after what you want. Use this time away from her to get shit done.”
I hated to admit it, but Gerald was right. There was a lot of shit that needed to be handled, regardless if Camilla was in my life. I needed to focus on that while she was out of my life. Maybe it would help me not to dwell on her absence, but that was easier said than done.
My attention back on the highway, we headed away from the Chicago airport.
Camilla remained heavy on my mind.
I tried my best to get ready for this meeting with Antonio Rizzo, but I missed her. Her smile, laugh, and her sassy ass mouth. The way she’d look at me like she wanted to either slap the shit out of me or fuck me—I missed all of it. I hadn’t known the girl long, but she’d engrained herself in every part of my being. We hadn’t just connected on a physical level; our souls connected.
“Did Rizzo find out why his uncle wanted to meet?” Gerald asked, pulling me from thoughts about Camilla.
“If he did, he didn’t say. He just said Don Rizzo needed to meet me in person. That it was important. The Irish and the Italians keep their distance from one another, and they had something to do with my Aunt Samantha’s death.”
“Well, I hope this shit don’t end in some damn shootout or something. I got shit to do.”
“And what the hell do you have to do?” I asked, laughing at my friend.
Gerald was an outdoorsman. He said it came from his years in the military. His service connected him to nature, so I knew he’d go out of town to do some camping and fishing after we did a few rounds at the gym.
Maybe I need to head out of town too. Just to get my mind straight.
“I just need a break from the city, man.” He ran his hand over his bald head and lay his head against the headrest. “I’m going to the cabin for a few days, maybe two weeks, to clear my head. The city is closing in around me. I need to breathe in the fresh air, hear the birds chirp. I need the solace of being alone. So, like I said, I got shit to do.”
Something was off with him, but I’d let it go for now.
“You don’t have to worry about a shootout. It’s not like the movies, man. I respect the Don for who he is, and he’ll do the same. He didn’t summon me to Chicago to start a war between the Italians and Irish.”
“From your lips to the Man upstairs ears. I didn’t survive three fucking tours overseas to die stateside because I’m in the middle of some mob shit.”
My head shook, and our laughter filled the truck. Leave it up to Gerald joke about any situation, regardless of how fucked up it was.
“I looked into Franklin Scott for you,” he said after our laughter died down. “I know you’re worried about your girl and the possibility of him being involved in Nana’s death.”
It shouldn’t have surprised me he’d investigated Franklin. I had every intention of asking him to get everything he could on him, but when everything blew up with Camilla, it slipped my mind. My focus had been on her, not much anything else.
“Thanks, man. I was going to ask, but I’ve had so much on my plate with the funeral, Paddy on my ass about every fucking thing, and the mess with Camilla, it slipped my mind. What did you find out?”
Gerald filled me in on what had happened between Franklin Scott and Camilla during their relationship. The pictures of her injuries only added to my desire to kill him. Even as an Enforcer, I’d never had the desire to kill anyone, no matter what they’d done. It had always been part of the job.
Unlike many in “the life,” I got no enjoyment from the violence, the drugs, the women, or the death. Now, Franklin Scott came in a close second behind the person who’d killed my grandmother. Since the justice system didn’t want to make him pay for what he’d done to Camilla, I would.
Gerald continued to give me the rundown on everything, but he also informed me Franklin Scott had been nowhere near Boston at the time of my grandmother’s death. Even though he wasn’t here, that didn’t rule out him hiring someone to follow Camilla around and kill my grandmother.
“She went through a lot with that motherfucka, Southie,” Gerald said, his brows pinched. “What they portrayed in the news painted him as the victim, but my connect down in Georgia said it surprised him how fast she recovered from her injuries.”
My thoughts turned dark from all the information Gerald shared. Not only did I want to kill Franklin Scott, I also wanted to torture his ass then watch as he slowly bled out. He’d leapt to the top of my kill list by the time Gerald finished. The day Camilla confessed at the police station about the harassment, I had decided he’d die. I just hadn’t decided how.
“He’s still harassing her. Forty fucking missed calls in one morning, Gerald. No telling how many there were by the end of the day. I can’t even imagine the toll this has taken on her. Did you find out how they’re getting her number?”
“It has to be her family, maybe a friend. I’m not saying they’re doing it on purpose, but there’s no other explanation. The best thing she can do is let someone else buy a phone in their name, make sure the person makes the payment, and not give her number out. If she doesn’t want to do that, she needs to purchase burner phones and change them out every month.”
“I want to help her, but how can I if she won’t talk to me?”
“All you can do is give her time, man. It’s hard, but that’s the only thing you can do. Don’t push her. I’m telling you it’ll end badly if you don’t give her space.”
“Gerald man, what’s up? When we have these conversations concerning Camilla, you get this look.”
“What look?” he asked, glaring at me.
