Christmas morning. My father wolfed down the French toast I’d prepared, then got up. “On Christmas one of the biggest races of the year goes down. I need to place my bet.”
Of course he had to. It was always about betting and gambling. About races and fights. How could I expect my father to want to spend Christmas with me? I nodded, swallowing the bitter words that wanted to rise up. He left the kitchen, leaving me alone with the dirty dishes. I waited for him to leave the apartment before I took the folded piece of paper with the number of the rehab center from my backpack and dialed it with my new phone. After two rings, a clip female voice answered. “I’m calling for Melissa Hall, I’m her daughter.” Guilt filled me. This was only the second time I’d tried to call since I was in Las Vegas, but the doctors had told me that it was better to give my mother time to settle in before she was confronted with influences from the outside again. And secretly I’d been relieved to be away from her troubles for a while.
There was silence on the other end except for the click click of someone tipping something into a keyboard. “She left two days ago.”
“Left?” I repeated, my stomach clenching tightly.
“Relapse.” The woman was silent on the other end, waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, she added, “Do you want me to get one of her attending doctors so he can explain the details to you?”
“No,” I said angrily, then hung up. I knew everything. My mother had relapsed again. I wasn’t sure why I had expected anything else from her. And now she was out there alone, without me. Fear jabbed at my insides. This had been her last chance. She’d overdosed twice in the past, and I had been the one to save her, but now I was far away. She couldn’t be on her own. She forgot to eat, and she got sad, too sad, especially after a john treated her like shit. She needed me.
I stared bleakly at the plates in front of me, listened to the deafening silence of the apartment. Tears blurred my vision. I needed to find her before it was too late. I had always been the caretaker in our relationship. My mother was like a child in so many regards. I should have never listened to the doctors. I’d known from the start that my mother was a lost cause. There was only one person I could turn to.
I typed ‘I need your help, Fabiano. Please.’ into my mobile and pressed ‘send’.
Fabiano
“Today is going to bring us millions,” Nino said.
I tore my gaze away from the TV screen showing the warm-up race. Nino was staring down at the iPad in his lap.
Remo shook his head at his brother, annoyed. “Watch the race for fuck’s sake. We have a bookie for the numbers. Enjoy yourself for once. Stop acting like a fucking math nerd.”
Nino shrugged. “I don’t trust our bookies to do a better job than I. Why settle for a lesser option?”
Savio snorted. “You are so fucking full of yourself.”
If Nino wasn’t Remo’s brother, he would have studied math or some shit like that. He was a genius, which made him twice as lethal.
Remo slid his knife out of the holder across his chest, then threw it with a flick of his wrist. The sharp blade pierced the soft brown leather beside Nino’s left thigh. Nino glanced up from the iPad, then down at the knife protruding from the sofa. “Good thing the races bring us so much money if you keep destroying our furniture,” he drawled.
Remo waved him off.
Nino put the iPad down on the table beside him, then pulled out the knife. He began twisting it between his fingers.
“So how’s it going with your waitress?” Remo asked. “Not bored of her yet?”
I shrugged. “She’s entertaining enough.”
Nino’s assertive eyes regarded me above his play with the knife. I wasn’t sure what exactly his twisted brain had gathered from the one time he’d seen me with Leona. He didn’t understand emotions. That was my salvation.
“Good fuck?” Savio asked, grinning.
I wasn’t happy about the turn our conversation had taken.
“What the fuck,” Savio exclaimed, pointing at the TV. “Adamo is driving one of the race cars.”
We all turned to the screen. Adamo was overtaking two cars at once; their drivers hadn’t seen him shooting up behind them. “Good driving skills for a thirteen-year old,” I said.
Remo scowled. “One of these days I’m going to kill him, brother or not.”
My mobile vibrated in my jeans pocket. I took it out, then glanced at the screen. Leona.
I need your help, Fabiano. Please.
Feeling Remo’s eyes on me, I slid the mobile back into my pocket.
“Your waitress,” he said.
I crossed my arms behind my head. “She can wait.”
“Why would you waste your day with us if you can have a nice fuck?” Savio asked, then stood. “Actually, why didn’t you organize some kind of entertainment, Remo?”
Remo reached for his mobile. “Obviously the family time is over.” Then he laughed at his own joke before his eyes slid over to me. “Go to her. Then we won’t have to share the girls with you.”
I got up with a shrug, as if I couldn’t care less if I left or stayed, but my mind was reeling. What was going on? Leona sounded desperate.
“Don’t overexert yourself with that girl of yours,” Remo said with a shark-smile. “It wouldn’t look good if my Enforcer lost a fight.”
I rolled my eyes. My next fight was in six days on New Year’s Eve. “Don’t worry.”
The streets were deserted as I drove to Leona. People were celebrating Christmas with their families. I caught the occasional glimpse through windows where people exchanged presents or shared a family meal. I knew most of it was a façade. My family had always made a big show out of celebrating Christmas together as well, but behind closed doors we had been as far from the happy family as you could get. Our father had always made sure that we were miserable.
Last night was the first Christmas Eve I’d enjoyed in a long time. Because of Leona. My hands clenched. I shouldn’t have given her the bracelet. I wasn’t sure what had gotten into me.
Nothing. I wanted to get rid of the fucking thing. That was all. And why not give it to Leona?
I parked in Leona’s street and got out of the car. I hadn’t bothered texting her.
I rang the bell, and moments later Leona opened the door, looking surprised and relieved. Her eyes were red from crying. I chose not to comment. Consoling others wasn’t my forte and I had a feeling she preferred me ignoring her emotionality.
Behind her I saw the small apartment she and her father shared, with the worn-off carpet and the smoke-yellowed wallpaper. She followed my gaze and flushed. “I didn’t think you’d come,” she said quietly.
“I am here.”
She nodded slowly, then opened the door wide. “Do you want to come in?”
The apartment was a far cry from being inviting but I stepped inside. Leona closed the door and then her arms were around my waist in a tight grip and she shuddered. I hesitated, then raised my hand to her head and touched her lightly. “Leona, what’s going on?” Had someone hurt her? When could that have happened? I’d brought her home around four in the morning. It was only twelve now.
She raised her head. “Please help me find my mother.”
“Your mother?”
“She left rehab. She can’t take care of herself without me. I have always been the one who made sure she ate and didn’t overdose. I should have never left her but I thought she was safe in rehab.”
“Shhh,” I said, touching her cheek. She was shaking. “I’m sure your mother is fine.”
“No, she isn’t. She can’t deal with life.” She closed her eyes and I knew what was coming. “She sells her body for crystal. And sometimes it makes her feel so dirty and horrible that she just wants to give up. I’m not there to stop her next time that happens.”
After all the neglect, Leona had suffered she shouldn’t have worried about her mother like that. That she did stirred some part of me I’d thought dead. “I will find her for you,” I told her. “Where was she last seen?”
“Austin.”
That was a bit of a problem. The Mexican cartels and local MCs were in control of Texas. Remo wanted to change it eventually, but right now the Camorra had little power there. Remo had his contacts of course. People who’d rather see us in power than the Mexicans. Perhaps one of them could help. But that would require that I ask Remo for help.
“Are you sure your mother won’t come to find you?”
Leona gave a miserable shrug. “I don’t know. She might. If she remembers where I went. She doesn’t always remember properly. Her brain is a mess because of all the drugs.” She closed her eyes. “If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Nothing will happen to her,” I said firmly. I stroked her cheek and she gave me a teary smile. “Thank you, Fabiano.” I lowered my head and kissed her lips. The kiss was sweet. I’d never had a fucking sweet kiss in my life.
When I returned to the Falcone mansion, I heard the moans. I made my way into the entertainment room with the pool tables, couches, TVs and boxing ring. Savio was bent over a naked woman sprawled out on the pool table, thrusting into her. Another woman fingered herself on the same table.
She sat up when she spotted me, then hopped off. I’d fucked her before, but I didn’t remember her name. She sauntered over to me, but I shook my head, narrowing my eyes at her. She froze, eyes flickering with unease.
“Where is he?” I asked.
Remo never took these women into his bedroom.
“Outside,” Savio muttered, then kept fucking the whore.
I strode out, toward the living area and from that onto the terrace with the pool landscape. Remo was there, naked, his hand fisted into a woman’s hair and fucking her mouth hard. He was glaring down at her as if he’d rather slice her open than shoot his cum down her throat.
His eyes shot up to meet mine, and he stopped thrusting but held the woman in place with his fist, his cock deep inside her mouth.
“I need your help,” I said. He had already gathered information about Leona’s mother, so I knew he’d find her.
Remo’s black brows drew together. He shoved the woman away and she landed on her ass, then quickly scurried off. He didn’t bother covering himself.
“I need to find someone. Leona’s mother.”
“You do?” he said quietly, suspicion tightening his eyes. “Why do you need to find the crack-whore?”
If he thought Leona was becoming too important to me, which she wasn’t, he might take actions into his hands and get rid of her. “Because Leona got it in her head that the crack-whore will die without her help.”
Remo came closer. I couldn’t tell his mood. He was…tense. “And you are helping her, because?”
That was the fucking question, wasn’t it?
“Because I want to.” It was a dangerous admittance. I had to hope that the years we’d spent like brothers protected me.
“That got something to do with your sisters and how you were abandoned and that shit?”
“You saved me when I needed saving.”
“I wasn’t being heroic, Fabiano. I did it because I knew you were worthy to become what you are today.”
“I’m not being heroic either. Will you help me?”
Remo shook his head. “Don’t start going soft on me, Fabiano.” He didn’t sound angry or threatening.
I relaxed my stance. “I’m not, trust me.”
Remo ran a hand through his hair. “You are a cock-block, you asshole.”
“You probably would have killed her before you could have shot your cum down her throat.”
“I would have killed her while shooting my cum down her throat,” Remo said with a twisted grin. He grabbed his pants and pulled them on. “I assume the whore is somewhere in Texas, selling her worn out pussy to any asshole with a few bucks?”
“Probably.”
“Good opportunity to piss off the Mexicans, I suppose. Perhaps I can catch in a favor with the Tartarus MC.”
I didn’t thank him. He wouldn’t appreciate it.
