Mobster Series Anniversary Edition Page 27

  “Tonight there is going to be a fight. Don Delisi, please select someone from your family.”

  I stand. I don't even want to give Pop a chance to pick anyone. I know my place. It is my responsibility. Don’t think, just do.

  “I volunteer,” I say.

  Pop nods at me with pride.

  “Okay, Antonio,” Mr. Furlotti replies.

  I glance over at Vito, and he regards me with annoyance. A glacial stare at me that says he wanted to offer himself for the challenge. But it's my obligation.

  A door opens up across the warehouse towards the back and slams with an echo. A tall man approaches. I recognize him, and he is someone I wouldn’t choose to spend time with. Demetrius! He emerges from the darkness and to the harsh light of the warehouse. His demeanor runs at a constant zero-degrees coldness to the trained eye. To the unsuspecting or ignorant, he may appear charming and friendly, but it is all a front. I’m sure the ladies love him and he has a new one on his arm all the time...until they learn what a sick fuck he is. Stories fly about him. The truly saddest part of all the rumor shit running rampant is that it’s true.

  Demetrius walks towards the table never taking his eyes off me. He sits down next to his boss, Furlotti.

  “Now, from the Furlotti family, who chooses to fight?” The words aren’t even finished when Demetrius stands.

  This is a set up. I should've known that they would do something like this. Demetrius wasn't even at the meeting. They kept him in the back on purpose.

  Demetrius is a lethal thug feared by the entire underground, disturbed on a level that rivals the worst mobster. He is mentally unbalanced, and, in this business, that’s scary. He defies the rules and breaks them as a habit. People avoid Demetrius and his attention at all costs.

  “Oh, hell, no!” Vito yells. My father silences him with a steely glance.

  He's impulsive, volatile, and a plain fucking psycho. He's oobatz in the head. I can't believe I need to fight him for this damn alliance. Pop needs this though. Good relations are an important step to putting Uncle Tutti down.

  As I walk towards the ring, I strip off my shirt and start jumping up and down to warm up my muscles. I clench together my fists a few times and roll my head side-to-side, stretching out my neck.

  If I had to picture what the devil looks like, I would pick Demetrius. His eyes radiate death and hate. He watches me with sharp eyes - staring at me like he wants to eat me alive with a fork and a knife...like a cannibal.

  Pop leans over to me, and I stop jumping.

  “Tonio, you can take this guy. Focus. Use everything you’ve learned...everything you’ve been taught.” He puts his hand on my shoulder, reassuring me that he has faith in me. Donny leans over as well.

  “Tonio, this kid is crazy. Give ‘im everything you got. Don't hold back. Give this kid everything you got!” he repeats. The room gets louder, everyone gearing up for a fight.

  Vito scrubs his hands down his face, worried. Dammit! He shouldn't be showing it. He knows to keep his face stoic and his eyes straight. Never show an emotion. It’s the only way to win these things. This alliance is important. This fight is our first set up, our first test. I start jumping again.

  Money starts exchanging hands. Everyone in the room begins betting. This underworld makes everything about a pot of money, power and gain. Hands switch and swap cash. Cigarettes and cigars hang from foul mouths. For probably the first time in my life, I want to throw up at the smell of the smoke.

  Demetrius is cool, cold, calculating, and blood-thirsty, these traits oozing from his pores. He’s as big as Vito. But I’m not afraid of getting hurt, I’m more afraid of losing. Pop is counting on me. Tonight is one step closer to a valuable alliance happening.

  I need to put Uncle Tutti in the ground, and here I am in a boxing ring with a psychopath waiting to beat the shit out of me. I love a beautiful girl who is waiting for me in a suite at the casino. Megan’s face flashes before me, a welcome vision.

  Ennio can’t be here tonight because it is one of his biggest casino nights – and they all know it. I think to myself that his absence is another reason why they are doing this. They know Ennio won't be here. These fuckers wanted to see what were made of...without friends or supporters.

  I guess I’d play the game the same way if the tables were turned. I'd want to know their weaknesses and true grit.

  I step into the dirt of the ring. It kicks up around my shoes. Demetrius walks in, his confidence and instability evident in his eyes. The announcer calls out last bets, and we face off, waiting.

  The announcer talks about the rules. Basically, there aren’t any. Stay in the ring. Only fists, no weapons, and it all ends when someone is down for the count of ten. You can kick, punch, hit, slam...do whatever you want. Really, there are no rules.

  I put out my hand to shake Demetrius’. He grabs mine hard. There is no bell or formality, only the announcer yelling go. Demetrius slams me with a punch that has me reeling. My legs falter, and I stagger back a solid three feet. I shake it off, and he is right there in front of me again.

  “How does this feel, golden boy?” he asks, pounding and knocking me in the jaw again and again. Blood spills out of my mouth, and I watch it hit the dirt, darkening both to a redish brown.

  Vito is yelling. The whole room is shouting, cheering, booing, and calling out. The only person I can't hear is Pop. Donny is barking out instructions and things to do… like tear Demetrius’s throat out.

  “I hear you’ve got a piece of ass that everyone is hard over,” he grates at me. ”Can I fuck her, too?” His crazy eyes center on me and bile rises in my throat. The idea of him with in a hundred feet of Megan makes me want to kill him. My focus returns, and red forms over my eyes, a flash at first and then it becomes a solid haze as my adrenaline peaks. I use a simple leg swipe and watch Demetrius’ massive form crash onto the dark dirt. Obviously, he has not had mixed martial arts training like I have. I need to use it to defeat him.

  I swing around, lift up my fist, and jam it square into his stomach. With all the force that I use, I can hear the air flow out of his chest. Demetrius clutches his stomach and rocks back. I take the opportunity of his weakness to grab his arm and twist. He lets out a yell that is muted because I knocked the wind out of him. I begin to snap his arm back, but Demetrius recovers way too quickly.

  He twists and seizes me by the waist, hoisting me up. I hover above his head for seconds before he smashes me into the dirt. Dust clouds in my mouth as I sputter and choke on it. I think all of my bones feel the connection to the ground and hard cement underneath.

  Demetrius reaches for me again, and I roll away. He misses me by a mere inch as I kick up onto my feet. I am upright again and my body screams in agony from the hit to the floor. But I push on and dance around him until I get my bearings. He towers over me...David and Goliath.

  Demetrius seizes my hand and swings me around, and I land against the ropes knocking them down. The mobsters watching pick me up and toss me back into the filthy ring. Demetrius is coming at me again. Relentlessly, he kicks and wails on me. He uses my jaw and face as a punching bag. Vito yells for me to get out of the way, but I can't move.

  He has me in a snare, and it is a vicious cycle I can't get out of. I feel myself losing consciousness, tipping and sliding. I am going to fall over soon. I can't let him get in another punch...I have to stop the sequence. I have to stop the beating. I have to get him down.

  I step over to the side just two inches, he misses me this time. His confidence in his ability to hit me makes him stagger when his punch doesn't meet me. Before he can recover, I roundhouse kick and thrust my foot into his kidneys, knocking him to the ground. Not wasting one second, I jump on him. I throttle him with my fists everywhere I can reach. I beat him, hard. The red stays over my eyes, and I just keep hitting him. I don't think I could stop myself if I want to. Blood and spit slip under my fists after every blow.

  The announcer comes forward and pulls me off Demetrius. He
is telling me it is over, and I don’t even know it. I struggle to get a breath, so tired from hitting him. Blood runs down into my eyes, and my fists feel four times their normal size. I did it! I put Demetrius down, exactly what I needed to seal the deal. I am swollen and hurting when I leave the ring.

  Vito appears beside me. He clutches my shoulder whispering, “You almost killed me, dude.”

  Pop walks over with Donny, right over to me, and Pop wipes the blood off my face. My breathing is labored.

  “Good job, Tonio. Good job! I knew you could do it. That's my boy.”

  Everyone reassembles at the tables...phase one is complete. So far we're going to follow through with the alliance.

  We will meet back at this warehouse in a couple of days. Pop may have a solid start to a new alliance, but I made a new enemy, Demetrius. Demetrius is not going to let this go. His pride is hurt, and I'm going to pay for it.

  *****

  Megan:

  I need some space. The party, the harp, seeing Troy, all of it is overwhelming and I escape to the hallway. I walk towards the elevators and lean against the wall. A deep breath I didn’t realize I was holding escapes.

  The same thought repeats over and over. How did I end up here?

  It’s not bad. I’m safe, well fed, I have company...but it’s not enough without Antonio. I have a constant worry in my heart until I hear his voice over the phone. As soon as we hang up, the worry starts all over again. I walk up and down the hallway with restless energy.

  A ding sounds and the elevator doors slide open. Carlo steps out with someone. A girl. Holy crap! It’s Alessandra.

  I launch myself at her. We have never been really close, but we have a connection that is Antonio. She helped me when I was lost.

  Alessandra actually lets out an ‘ooph’ and steps back on her spiked heels, then hugs me back. She never stops looking like the Italian diva that she is.

  “Hey, have you been working out?” she asks, taking a minute to look at me.

  “Yes, I’m going stir crazy!” Tears sting my eyes as I laugh at my own response.

  “Come on,” Carlo says. ”Let’s go into the party.”

  Alessandra puts her arm around my shoulder like we are besties, and we walk into the suite together.

  It is so nice to see Alessandra. I can’t believe that she has shown up here all the way from Palmetto. I can't believe it's already school break. I've lost track of time and days since I've been here.

  She looks incredible as always. We head into the party, Alessandra and I arm-in-arm. All heads turn our way. Erin comes up to us.

  “Hello Alessandra, how are you?”

  Alessandra embraces her. “I’m fine. How are you?” She truly sounds sincere. “You look amazing. I'm so glad to see you.”

  “Thank you,” Erin says. ”It’s been a little rough, but I'm getting better.”

  “That is great to hear,” Alessandra says sincerely.

  Clarissa comes up and hugs Alessandra as well. The girls know each other, being in the same “family.” Ennio doesn't allow anybody up here without connections… that's why I was so surprised to see Troy here.

  Alex, across the room, is craning his neck and watching us. He's tall, so I can see him over everyone. I'm sure he must know Alessandra, everybody is connected around here. But Alex’s expression is a little taken aback, as though he is surprised to see her...or he doesn't even know her.

  Troy comes over, munching on some sausage rolls.

  “Hey, you look familiar,” he says to Alessandra, his brows are furrowed as if he is trying to place her.

  “Yes, we met this summer,” she beams.

  I butt in, “Troy, we went to get ice cream and sat with Alessandra and her friends.”

  “Oh yeah,” Troy recollects. I find it hard to believe that Troy doesn’t remember a beautiful girl like Alessandra.

  Mingling ensues, and later I notice Alessandra hanging around Troy. He is pleasant and nice, and Alessandra actually seems interested in Troy. He doesn’t seem to be returning the interest though.

  Alex comes up to me when I was just filling up another plate of food. Seconds...working out makes me very hungry.

  “Who is that?” he asks me, all secretive.

  “That's Alessandra. You don't know her?” I ask, shoveling bread and butter into my mouth. ”I thought you all knew each other.”

  “Well, I’ve certainly never seen her before.”

  “She lives in Palmetto,” I tell him. “She's friends with Antonio which is why I kind of assumed you would know her.”

  “No, but...she’s beautiful. You need to hook me up with her.”

  “Hook you up? You need my help?” I ask incredulously. His dark brown eyes turn to me, annoyed, and I laugh. “Really? What’s the matter? With all that Italian testosterone, and you can’t go meet her yourself?”

  “Funny,” he says deadpan.

  “Alessandra!” I call out. She is talking with Troy and looks over at me. ”Come on over here.”

  “Shit! What are you doing?” Alex is flustered.

  “What you asked. What is your problem? Sheesh.” Alex is acting pretty juvenile for someone who routinely kicks ass and takes names.

  Alessandra comes over to Alex and me. She could be a runway model, she is that perfect. Smooth brown hair, big eyes, high cheek bones, olive skin. She smiles at us as she approaches.

  “Alessandra, this is Alex.” I gesture to him for effect.

  “Hi,” she extends her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Hi,” he returns and follows that up with...nothing...silence. This is a badass enforcer?! He’s acting about ten not twenty-two.

  I try to fill the void. ”Alex is an enforcer here.”

  “Oh, this, um, must be a great place to, uh, work,” she says. I can tell she senses the awkwardness.

  Continued crickets from Alex, and I roll my eyes.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask. ”There is a ton of food.” I point to the buffet tables.

  Troy walks up behind me. “Hey, Meg, how are you liking your party? This food is wicked good,” he says shoveling pasta and meatballs in his mouth.

  Alessandra bats her eyelashes at Troy. I seriously didn’t think women still did this. He ignores her.

  “It's great!” I say. “I can't believe it. I just wish Antonio were here.”

  Troy snorts, “I am sure Delisi would be here if he could.”

  “Are you leaving tonight?” I ask, my melancholy drifting to the surface.

  “I don't know. I'm assuming they'll take me out, the same way they brought me in,” he says quietly.

  “I wouldn’t say ‘take me out’ too loudly in here,” I chuckle.

  Alessandra agrees jokingly.

  Troy laughs too and says in an Irish brogue, “It’s a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into Miss Megan.”

  I smile, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Alessandra tries to engage Troy in a conversation again. “So how's college?”

  “Actually, it's been quite eventful since I've gotten here.” Troy says, giving me a knowing look as he walks away. What is up with him?

  Around midnight, the party breaks up. Troy gives me a big hug as he leaves. I truly hope he gets home okay. I tell him to call me when he gets there. He never mentioned Jake. He was fun to hang around with while we were at Notre Dame, and he is a great new friend to Troy. I meant to ask him how he's doing. Next time I talk to him, I'll have to ask how things are going with Jake.

  I am still feeling dispirited because I haven't seen Antonio yet. My gaze shifts to my gorgeous harp. Moonbeams filter in through the windows lighting up its golden color. It is just so beautiful. I can't even venture to guess how much something this magnificent costs. But I love it. It's just what I need in this prison...something to take me away, to give me some peace, even if it's only for a few minutes or the length of a song.

  Clarissa is picking up crumpled napkins and throwing used plastic glasses away. Alessa
ndra is putting chairs back around the kitchen table. Everyone’s movements are leaden. I help to gather up some trash.

  “Okay guys, I'm going to head back to my suite,” Clarissa says once things are mostly cleaned up. ”Are you staying with me, Alessandra?”

  “Yep, I’m coming. Wonderful party, Erin,” Alessandra says. ”I’m so glad I got to come.”

  “See you tomorrow,” I call out very pleased she is here..

  Erin and I continue to clean up party debris. I know in the morning they'll be staff here to help, but I figured we might as be as useful as we can.

  “Thank you so much, Erin. I had no clue.”

  Erin lifts her shoulders like they are heavy and says, “I'm so lucky to have you as a sister, Megan. I don't know how I would've gotten through this without you...and...I'm sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for?” I ask her, surprised.

  “I'm sorry that you can't see Antonio. That he's been gone for so many weeks. I know that it's very hard on you and that you miss him.”

  I flash a bittersweet smile at her.

  “I miss him too. I think he's great, Megan. Don't let him get away,” she adds earnestly.

  “Thanks. I'm glad someone in our family approves of him. If I have to listen to Mom one more time, berate and trashing him, I am going to lose it.”

  “Meg, I wouldn’t listen to Mom. This whole thing has made me see a lot of things I'd never seen before. It has really opened my eyes.” Erin throws a bunch of disposable plates in the trash and continues thoughtfully. “Actually...I think Mom is jealous of you.”

  “What?! That's nuts,” I say disbelieving.

  I can’t imagine that. My mother's jealous of me? How is that possible?

  “She's jealous of your strength. She's jealous of who you are. You’re confidence and intelligence...your ability to get through tough situations.” I’m a bit surprised by the conversation...that is quite a mouthful for my sister lately.

  “Good night,” Erin says and comes over to hug me. I hug her back.

  “Good night,” I say quietly as she slips out of the room.

  Erin goes to her bedroom and closes the door. I am left standing in the large suite alone, reflecting on her statements. Is my mother jealous of me? How can she be jealous of her daughter? Parents are supposed to love unconditionally...not have those petty feelings.