Page 11 of Primo DeLuca

Neglect, hunger, and beatings were the ways she had shown me attention. She teased me incessantly about naming me Nevah Moore, saying after she had me, she was never having any more babies. The joke was on her because most people liked the name.

After my thirteenth birthday, the abuse she dished out intensified. Her slaps and name-calling turned into kicks and punches. Due to years of drug abuse, she ended up suffering a massive stroke at forty that left her unable to walk or talk.

She became my dependent and I was forced to work two jobs from the time I was seventeen, throughout college, and a few years beyond, just to afford a decent nursing home for her.

The energetic bodies bumping into me pulled me back to my current reality. I tossed a final glance across my shoulder at Tracy before I was folded into the crowd. The multiple points of constant contact caused me to jerk towards my destination like I was in the midst of doing an awkward dance move.

I appreciated my friends campaigning for my social life but going out with them usually ended with me attempting to save them from situations they would have been involved in regardless.

Halfway to my destination, the friend in me wouldn’t let me leave without looking back in Maya’s direction. After craning my neck for what felt like an hour, I spotted her near the bar like Tracy had informed.

Guilt slammed into me and my quick steps stalled, causing people to bump into me harder, some belting out their frustration. I turned in the opposite direction, praying I didn’t regret this last minute decision. I was about to risk being caught by a mafia boss to check on my friend.

Dammit!

Maya acted tough but had a heart of gold that she only allowed me and Tracy to see. She was more determined than the rest of us not to show weakness. However, I knew her pain.

She was still suffering the loss of her brother whose death seven months ago had wreaked her. What made the situation worse, the police weren’t doing anything, that we could tell, to solve his murder.

The closer I stepped to Maya and her newest victim for the night, the more my eyes squinted. The man looked familiar and she and he appeared to be in the midst of an argument.

Shit!

“Look B3co or whatever your name is…” I caught the first part of her condescending sentence, despite the crowd-noise. “I don’t care if this club belongs to the Pope, I’ll ask whoever I want, whatever I want,” Maya spit more of her vicious words at the man.

She stared him down like he was the short one, despite him towering over her with a strained grimace on his face.

“I’ll pick you up and carry you out of here myself if you're here to start trouble,” he spat back at her.

The dark haired man took a threatening step closer to her, but thankfully didn’t attempt to make good on his comment. I pushed my way through the last of the crowd that seemed to be holding me back despite my determined pace.

Now that I clearly saw his face, the man looked familiar to me because I had just seen him less than twenty-five minutes ago. He was one of the men who were in that mob meeting I had accidentally stepped into, while searching for Maya. I needed to get her away from him before we ended up with more mob energy than we could handle aimed at us.

“Is everything okay?” I questioned walking up to Maya and standing beside her. My shoulder edged out in front of hers like a mother readying herself to protect her baby although I’m sure Maya was a lot more scrappy than me.

The man standing before us was just as imposing as Primo DeLuca. I seriously doubted that me and Maya had a chance against him if he decided he wanted to do bad things to us. When he managed to pull his gaze away from Maya’s threatening one, recognition flashed in his eyes at the sight of me.

“Everything is fine. I’m just playing the part of the Peacekeeper, so your friend here will stop stirring up trouble in my club. She’s agitating my customers.” His eyes were back on Maya before he completed the statement.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I offered him, before snatching Maya by the arm and dragging her off towards the restroom area. As soon as we hit the dimly lit hall and the tone of the music lowered, I swung her around to face me like a mother about to discipline her child.

“Maya, what the hell? Do you have any idea who you were arguing with?”

She shrugged.

“He thinks just because he owns this club, he could tell me who to talk to. Acting like he’s my keeper or something.”

My head shook with slow disapproval. The only reason I wasn’t yelling at Maya right now was because I understood her pain.

“Please tell me you’re not going off on another of your hunting expeditions. It’s dangerous and certainly reckless, especially asking people questions like you're the police.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” She questioned, turning her hands up in surrender. “If I don’t do something about my brother’s case, it’s just going to get tossed like so many others into the cold case files. If it's not already there.”

My head dropped a notch and my eyes fell closed.

“I know. Just promise me you’ll chill for now. I’ll help you like I did before if you don’t hear something from the detectives soon. Okay?”

She nodded. The sadness she tried but failed to keep out of her eyes burst free. After a moment of deaf silence passed between us, she threw her arms around my neck.

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