Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
As for me, I know what I’m talking about, and I can hold my own if it comes to it, but I don’t pull the trigger these days unless it’s personal. The liquor and protection will be split evenly, as well as some of the enforcement. I have taken to contracting most of the hands-on work in that department over the years, so if that’s the price of leaving, I’m willing to let it go.
Truth is, I’m happier than I’ve been in years. Going solo suits me right now, which shouldn’t come as a surprise, given my philosophy when it comes to my personal life. I watched my parents love story crumble around them when my father took up with some side action, watched it break my mother’s heart. She stuck with him; why, I don’t know. Tradition, I guess. But I lost all respect for him and any drive to have a happily ever after of my own.
Because it doesn’t exist.
My phone lights up as I sit at a red light, and I see it’s my sister, Maria.
“Hello,” I answer, putting her on speaker.
“What are you so grumpy about?” Her light voice takes a bit of the darkness from inside the car. She looks, sounds, and has a lot of mannerisms like my mother—both of them perpetual optimists with kind hearts but steel backbones.
“I’m not grumpy, just on my way to a meeting I don’t particularly want to have. What’s up?” I’m within a few minutes of my destination, but I always answer when she calls if at all possible. She’s my only family left, and while she may be a pain in my ass, I love her with every inch of my heart. Even if she does ride my ass like Zorro trying to get me to go legit, have a wife, family, picket fence and some hairy mutt to trip over.
“Just wanted to remind you about dinner Monday. Rebecca will be there.” There’s a sing-song lilt to her voice, and I roll my eyes and try to hold back my irritation.
She’s been trying to set me up for years, but she’s leveled up her push the last few months. I’ve dated, if you can call it that, but found that most of the women weren’t all that interested in me. They wanted the lifestyle and the pocketbook that came with it.
Or it could just be that I'm a grouchy fuck. Doesn’t matter, I wasn’t all that interested in them, to tell the truth. Something just never clicked, and love has never been a priority to me.
It’s not just the lack of belief that love is real, that it can last or is worth the effort. It’s also that my life is non-stop, 24/7 work. Dangerous work. And I could never have someone attached to me who could be used as a weakness. So, love, relationships, kids...it’s just not on my radar.
“Yeah, probably not going to make it, sis.”
“Please, Vito. You need to have some life other than business. You’re going to wake up one day and look back and see that’s not what matters.”
The family business never did sit right with Maria. She took her own track, going to nursing school, but she still lives in our family home, which is just fine with me. It’s big. Bigger than she needs, with lots of upkeep necessary, but I help out with all the expenses because despite my grumpy nature, family sticks together.
Even with my father’s indiscretions, we had a happy life mainly due to our mother and her unwillingness to have their marital troubles intrude on her children’s lives. Then, as we grew older, my father’s frequent business trips and the times we would find our mother crying started to make more sense.
“Now is not the time for a lecture. I’ll let you know if I can come, but I’m busy now.”
“Fine. You’re always busy,” she grouses. “I love you, you big idiot. I’ll bother you tomorrow.”
We sign off, and I take the last turn toward Salvatore’s office as a bolt of lightning flashes and torrents of rain suddenly start to soak the streets and the car.
Thunder claps so loud I can hear it in the silence of the car, and lightning fills the sky as I move down the nearly abandoned downtown street. No one is out in this neighborhood at night, even when the weather is nice; add a storm like this, and it looks like a ghost town of old warehouses and boarded-up storefronts.
I pass a few glowing neon ‘Open’ signs in some dumpy bar windows, but other than that there is little sign of life tonight.
I slow the SUV as rain splashes across the windshield, making visibility near zero. Then another bolt of lightning flashes. It strikes a streetlamp just in front of me, lighting up the night for a split second with a cascade of sparks, and I’m momentarily blinded. Thunder follows loud enough to shake the car.