Page 7 of Crazed

Tristano and I exchange an uneasy glance. The last time we owed Tully, he made us rummage through sewage for some thug's lost finger. It was the most disgusting thing I've ever done. Tully watched us while he smoked his cigar and drank a tumbler of Irish whiskey. If I think hard enough, I can still smell the rotten feces.

Gianni snaps, "Enough of the dramatics, Tully. What do you want us to do?"

Tully and Papà lock eyes. More minutes of silence pass.

Tristano says, "I have a meeting this morning. Can we get on with this?"

"With who?" Papà asks, assessing my brother.

A brief hesitation flickers in Tristano's expression. Papà doesn't catch it, but I don't miss it, probably since I'm the closest to him. There isn't much he can do and get past me. I'm pretty sure he's lying when he responds, "Meeting at the docks."

Papà arches his eyebrows. "With who?"

Tristano shrugs. "My guys."

"About what?" Papà interrogates.

"Since when do we go over every meeting detail with you?" Tristano hurls back.

My big brother instincts take over. I don't know what he's up to, but I'll find out later. If he doesn't want our father to know, he must have his reasons. I interject, "He's meeting about the accident we had at the docks last week. His guys all need an assessment."

"We already did that," Papà replies, sizing up Tristano and me further.

"Not good enough. We still don't know why the container caught fire. Someone planted it. No one has been on our turf. I scanned all the videos. The only explanation is one of the guys is involved," Tristano quickly adds, avoiding my gaze.

"He's right. You need to figure that out, Angelo," Tully points out.

Papà sighs, then glances at the ceiling.

"So, can we move on with this conversation now?" Tristano asks again.

Tully's grin reappears. "Next Thursday night at nine. Angelo knows the address. Don't be late."

I groan, fed up with this entire scene. "And here we go again with Tully's games."

"Do not disrespect Tully," Papà barks, scowling at me.

"Tully, tell us what we'll be doing," Dante demands.

"Yeah, Dad. Don't keep us in suspense for several days," Brody dryly adds.

Tully smirks. "What fun would that be for me?" He turns to Papà. "Bring your best bottle."

Papà nods. "Will do."

Tristano gives me a worried glance. The scent of sewage flares in my nostrils. I try to breathe through it. I've had all sorts of bodily fluids on me, torn men's guts out, and done heinous acts. Those smells never stay with me. I wish I could somehow forget Tully's last payback. From the looks of it, my brother has the same horrible memories as I do.

"Fine. Anything else, or can I resume my workout?" Dante asks.

Tully's arrogant, happy smile makes me cringe inside. He glances at Papà. "I'm good. How about you, Angelo?"

Papà assesses all of us. He shakes his head. "I have nothing else to say right now." He turns, and Tully follows him out the door.

"What does your father have up his sleeve?" I ask the O'Connors.

Aidan shakes his head. "No idea."

"Well, I need to go," Tristano proclaims, walking toward the exit.

---