Page 68 of Working for the Mob

“We got caught in the middle of a town war,” I said, non-committal.

“Not last night. Between you and Lance. Why are you always at each other’s throats?”

I tried to swallow down an apple-sized lump in my throat. This was the last conversation I wanted to have with Genevieve. I had done everything I could to keep my work life separate from her. And now they bled into each other.

I stared at the road to buy myself time. It was a long story. Where do I even begin?

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” she said. “I just thought after what we just did––”

“No. It’s fine,” I said, cutting her off. “I … um. Shit. I want you to know that I didn’t choose this life.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, quickly.

“Just let me finish, dammit,” I said. She pursed her lips and shifted in her seat. She was more patient with me than I deserved.

“I mean, this is the life that was forced on me. Lance and I told you we were half-brothers. And that’s right. He was born first to our dad’s wife and I was born to our dad’s mistress.”

And she died in childbirth. We went at least another minute before I could bring myself to continue.

“He always told me I was lucky he was raising me at all. That if it was anyone else that got my whore of a mom pregnant, that I’d be out on the streets begging for money.”

Genevieve gasped. “That’s awful.”

I shrugged. That’s what happened. We passed over a bridge and a cornfield before I could think of the words to continue.

“Growing up, he prized Lance like a racehorse. He was the fucking apple tree in his goddamn eye, and me––he trained me to protect Lance. To be the enforcer.

“He trained me to jump when Lance said ‘jump.’ He trained me to fight. But most of all, he trained me to shoot. And I wasgoodat it. It was the only thing that people told me I was good at.

“He even took me to shooting competitions. Not because he was proud of me. No, he wanted to show me off. Made sure everyone knew how deadly I was. Hell, even Lance asked me to keep going after Pa died. So, growing up, my father would have me drilling in target practice while he taught Lance how to run the town.

“But you couldn’t teach Lance anything. He only wanted to hear how good he was at everything, and as a Necci, he heard it a lot. I paid attention though. While I was supposed to be learning how to pick off a milk bottle from thirty yards away, I snuck into my dad’s office. Taught myself to read, to write. Went through all his finances.

“That’s why I run the town while Lance dicks around in his office,” I said.

“You resent him,” Genevieve said. “For being the golden boy while you worked hard and he sat around doing nothing.

“No … I.” Shit. She was right. At least she didn’t say that I was jealous. Lance had told me that enough times over the last thirty years. “Just drop it.”

“Fine,” she said. And we drove the next half mile in silence. Until she broke it, again. “I just want you to know that I’m on board now.”

“What?”

I took my eyes off the road for a second. A hard, determined look burned in her eyes. Her knuckles gripped the car’s door handle so tightly they turned white.

“After last night, I mean. I hate organized crimeandviolence. And in a vacuum, I still do. But after last night … Art, I want you to make them pay for what they did to Jamie.”

???

We arrived at the hospital twenty minutes later, and found Lucy at the counter in the lobby, ordering the nurses to bring Jamie more pillows.

Henry was there as well, trying to calm Lucy down. I didn’t know why the hell Henry was here, but I couldn’t help but feel relieved at the sight of him. I would take all the help I could get.

“They wouldn’t know whether he wants more pillows or not, since he’s still asleep,” Lucy said, once she saw us.

We led her to a few open chairs in the lobby and we all found our seats. Henry next to Lucy, and Genevieve next to me.

Genevieve and I offered to share our food, but Henry had already brought Lucy a full pork chop lunch from a restaurant close by. We placed the corned beef sandwich on a chair in front of us for Jamie if he woke up … when he woke up.

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