Page 3 of Tommy
“I would. Because I’m busy, as you can see.”
“Yes, but by coming in, I force you to either finish faster or stop altogether. Because, as Mom says, family comes first. Work can wait.”
He looks up with a deep breath and a glare on his face while also seeming bored. It’s really an impressive look, but it gets him to put the pen down at least.
I grin at him. Wide enough to annoy. Annoying him still brings me some joy. “You called?”
“Yes.” He takes a beat before he nods and stands, buttoning his suit before going to the bar on one side of his office and pouring drinks.
Must be after seven. Not that I’ve really looked at a watch, well, ever. What’s the point? Someone is bound to tell you if you’re early or late. Besides, I’ve got people who keep me on time for things I need to get to. And while I might not watch the clock religiously, Vinny does. And he only drinks the good stuff when he’s “off” the clock. Not that it doesn’t keep him from working at all hours of the night and day. The guy is the epitome of a workaholic.
He drinks wine at work functions, or any time he needs to appear that he’s letting loose but really isn’t. I mean, we grew up with wine on the table for every meal. That stuff is basically like water for us; we can drink it for hours and not feel the effects of relaxation. But bring in some whiskey and I’m all in for a good time.
“How was Michigan? Did you just get back? I heard there was a bit of a situation with a product you own.”
I snort at his words. Vinny doesn’t mind the fighting, be it men or women, but he never understood the underground part of it. He prefers to watch a paid fight from a box suite, not in an empty warehouse that has troughs to piss in and beer sold in plastic cups.
“Arrived just before now.” I give him a solid look before I continue. “Which I’m sure you already knew.”
I don’t miss the corner of his lip rising in glee for half a second before he goes neutral again. Vinny is as protective of us as Danny is. I’m sure he even had Danny monitoring the airfield and reporting in as soon as I set foot back on home soil. But that’s brotherly love for you. Honestly, I’d ratherthem smother me with caring, or whatever they call this, than leave me out in the cold. I’ve seen a few families do that, and I don’t want it. Who would I annoy if I were on my own? Myself? I’m too amazing to be bothered with myself. Apart from the fact that I was a stupid kid a few months back, and now I’m dealing with some mental issues about how long a person can live in this life. Besides that, I’m amazing.
“All is right in the world. The Hounds were able to figure things out with little help from Danny’s boys.”
He hums in acknowledgment, probably understanding what I’m not saying—that Danny doesn’t need to be in a hissy fit if no one from his team got hurt. Sure, he’ll probably still complain and shit, but not too much since no blood was spilled.
Vinny pours me a glass without asking, bringing it to me and toasting me with a silent clink from his own before taking a healthy sip. I do the same. I’m not an animal. I know my brother only gets the best; why waste it with a throwback? Also, like Bobby with money, Vinny is pretty stingy about sharing his few loves. And his liquor is one of them.
“So, who died?” No use in beating around the bush.
“You did.”
Chapter 2—Tommy
Ipause mid-swallow. Okay, that one’s new. Does he mean it metaphorically? Or is he trying to tell me something about what’s to come?
I look at my older brother. A carbon, yet faded, copy of me, but no less striking in his own right. The Leone family has made a name for ourselves. Fear usually goes with the name, and a healthy dose of respect, but we also pull the ladies. And when Milly was around, we did more than chase off her suitors. Her man Bass is lucky to have caught her before we could put a stop to it.
On second thought, it’s probably a good thing she left when she did. No doubt she’d still be single if she were still here. No one was good enough for Milly. Bass might beokay, but he’s by far the best option I’ve seen for her.
Just as I suspect that she’d say the same for all of us.
We’ve got looks. Charm thanks to Mom’s relentless tutelage. Even Danny gets laid with his stoic act. We don’t pay for sex, and we never go to a function alone unless it’s strategic. Women line up, no exaggeration, just to get Vinny’s attention. I once saw a group around the block trying to take his picture like he’s some celebrity. Sure, he’s got the money to make him a playboy, and the media loves to play it that way, but there are reasons we don’t grace magazine covers or Top Ten lists. Not because we can’t, but we pay to keep ourselvesoffthose lists. And to avoid the reporters. We getenough attention just by being us without needing someone coming around and asking a shit ton of questions.
To those who don’t know us, the visiting tourists, we seem like local favorites. To everyone else, they understand they can speak of us, but they do it knowing that it could get them killed if something is taken inaccurately. Danny is very protective of us all, and none of us question when he decides an outsider has crossed a line he drew in the sand. Even if that line exists only in his head andhewas the one who took it differently than intended. We learned a long time ago to let Danny be Danny and bust heads as needed.
Bobby keeps us off the radar enough that unless we’re paying the feds or locals, the cops stay far away. He’s got the smarts to keep the legit shit running well enough that while some mightthinkwe do bad stuff, it would be impossible for them to find. Only those with ties to the family know where the dead bodies are buried. Cops can search all they want, but unless Bobby makes a mistake, which he doesn’t, there will be no money trail. No tax evasion to bring us down like Al Capone.
“Exactly how did I die?” I set my drink down on the oak desk, my lips twitching when Vinny immediately grabs it and puts it on the coaster to prevent ring stains.
“The Russians got you.” He unbuttons his suit jacket and pulls the second chair away before sitting in it.
I still, not saying shit because there’s nothing but truth in his words.
“Not physically. Mentally.” He touches his head with his index finger, the rest grasping the top of his drink. He was always the smart one. Dad would have left the family businessto any of us, but he picked the best. Just so happens he’s the oldest too.
I lower my leg off the armrest and sit up straighter before running my hand over my face. “You going to have Danny make it permanent?”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” he says with an eye roll. Which is good since I honestly wasn’t sure if he was putting me down like a dog or not.
