Page 153 of The Enforcer's Revenge
“I dunno.” Tino shrugged. “Probably drugs.”
“What if it had to be fast?” Tony pressed, giving him a pointed look. “Before they sent your family’s enforcer to end it for you since you pissed off all of Cosa Nostra by killing everyone in another Borgata’s administration. That’s a lotta made men, Tino. There is no way the commission will let that slide. You know that’s a death sentence.”
Tino nodded, the ringing in his ears getting louder and louder, and suddenly, he realized the real reason he’d beensnorting blow non-stop since seeing his uncle’s picture on the news.
Unexpectedly, like the memory of Nova shaking at their father’s feet in the basement that first time, the image of Carlo in another basement slapped Tino in the face because it was so vivid. Like it was happening right now, Tino remembered Carlo’s warning the night Tino made the decision to be an enforcer.
“Anyone can come up.” Carlo’s voice cracked. “Your brother. Your sister. The old man. The one kid you thought was safe from this bullshit. I’ve considered a lotta people. I’ve spent nights worrying that Nova’s brain would make them too nervous one day, and I’d get a piece of paper with his name on it, but I never thought it would be you. That’s what sucks. It hits you when you least expect it. It could be anyone, Tino.”
Tino agreed to be an enforcer, even with the dire warning, because if he didn’t, Carlo would’ve had to kill him. The commission laid it down, and once that happened, there was no changing it. Either Tino had to be an enforcer, or Carlo had to do his job and kill him because that was how the commission had decided it was going down. Even if a huge part of Tino had been ready for it to be over, it wasn’t in him to put Carlo through that.
Tino looked at the television again, seeing the bank robbery.
In Washington Heights.
The place where Carlo had grown up, running wild, being a Lost Boy before this horrible life made him a pirate instead.
“Oh shit,” Tino whispered.
He started crying, then, knowing that in Washington Heights, in a bank with a bunch of strangers who thought he was nothing but a murderer, Carlo was about to die, and there wasn’t a fucking thing in the world Tino could do to stop it.
“I would’ve done it for him,” he choked because he didn’t want him to be alone.
What if they did it badly?
What if he suffered like Lola had suffered?
Tony pulled Tino into his arms, hugging him tightly as Tino sobbed on his shoulder and said again, “I would’ve done it.”
“I know.” Tony rubbed his back and kissed his forehead, but none of it helped.
Maria showed back up with the blow.
And Tino shoved it off the table.
He didn’t want to hide from it when he knew his zio was all alone.
So, Tony handed him over to Maria, who sat in Tony’s chair and pulled him into her arms and held him against her chest, which just made him sob harder as he said, “Oh no, mama.”
“I know.” Her whole body was shaking because she was crying with him. “I know.”
Her fingers were soft in his hair, and it didn’t soften anything. Every part of Tino was there with his zio in that bank. He felt it down to his core, how alone he was, how judged he felt, but mostly, Tino spent the last few moments of Carlo’s life knowing just how much his zio loved him.
Enough to die publicly.
In front of a world that thought he was a monster when, he could’ve chosen to die in their world instead, but he didn’t because Tino was the one who would’ve had to do it.
More than Tino, though, it was about Lola.
Carlo could’ve done it alone, just ate a bullet like all of them had thought about doing a million times. Only he’d been going to mass for years now, sitting in the back row with Nova, and Carlo was superstitious. He believed the things people told him. Even if others didn’t agree, it was real to Carlo.
And he loved Lola too fucking much to risk it.
There was a big, old-fashioned clock hanging on the wall in the living room. Tino wasn’t present enough to pay attention to the timeline, but luckily, through some unexplained miracle, Nova had found him in Tony and Maria’s apartment that day.
Because the news was way behind.
It took an extra twenty minutes for them to report that the assailant had been killed. It took a full day for videos to show up of Carlo walking out of the bank, 9mm out, even if he never had any intention of killing anyone in Washington Heights that day. Tino never watched it. Nova didn’t either, but Tony told them it was quick.
