Omerta

Chapter 20

        I thought I was finished doing my part today by being the intermediary with the Russian's, but on the way home Nick got a call. "Who?" I heard him ask, then he paused to listen to whatever was being told on the other end of the line. His already bruised knuckles turned somewhat white with his grip tightening on the wheel. "Hold him. I'll be right there," was the last thing he said before he threw his phone in the cup holder and drove the rest of the way with a clenched jaw. 

"What's going on?" I asked. "Nothing, you're coming with me somewhere cuz I don't have time to drop you off," he said. When I tried asking a second question he glared at me and I knew he'd snap like he had earlier if I tried again. I just sat quiet.

        We went to what looked like a flower shop, which confused me until Nick went around back and opened some type of basement door that led down damp looking steps. "I can't leave you in the car since we're on lock down, so I'm leaving you here," he pointed to the end of the steps. "Uh, and where will you be?" I looked around uneasily. "In the next room," he said. He didn't give me time to ask anything else. 

When the basement door shut it got dark and I was forced to just stand there awkwardly as Nick's retreating back was only seen by the single light bulb that was hanging down the middle of this hall space.

I didn't want to even sit because the ground had looked damp and it smelt like mildew here. I shifted my weight around on my feet and tried to hone in on any sounds I might be able to hear. I'd been around Nick and his 'work' so much lately that I didn't understand why he'd leave me out of it now. 

        I started to hear the rumble that was made by the deep voices of men talking from a far enough distance. I decided to take a few steps closer. "You think I won't make an example outta you, you fucking sticky fingered prick. You think you can steal from me?" I heard Nick's deathly serious tone. "I didn't. I wasn't stealin'" a voice protested. "No? So taking my customers for your own benefit isn't stealing, huh?" Nick's laugh was not a happy one. 

Then I heard the sound of a punch and then another. The kid groaned in pain. "In the old testament do you know what they did to a thief? They took his hand," Nicolas gritted out as he landed another hit. "No, please please. It was only a few times, j-just for fun with some friends. I won't do it again, I swear!" the kid exclaimed.

        Something about his voice felt familiar somehow, but I couldn't put my finger on it. "Fire it up" I heard Nick say, but I didn't know what it meant. I suddenly felt really nervous. I thought for a moment that I should go back to the place Nick left me, but I found myself instead walking towards all the voices that were talking now. Then I heard a scream. 

"NO! Please, Mr. Luciano, please I won't do it again." The obvious fear and panic in the voice of this person clenched at my heart. And then it hit me. That voice. I know that voice...Little Richie.

        I had mentioned my cousin Smalls who was the son of my aunt Cecile and her husband Richie, who was a low level 'mobster that she'd married. Richie had a kid by another woman, the one they call Little Richie on the streets. He was nothing but a bookey, but he must've really pissed them off because it had come to the attention of Nicolas. My nerves skyrocketed and without thinking I burst into the room that had a creaky metal door much heavier than I expected. 

All the heads snapped in my direction. There was Nick's friend Ignazio Morello who I met the other day, some henchmen of theirs, and Nick and my step cousin Richie. "Nick stop!" I shouted. "Get the fuck out Gia" he shouted right back. "Gia?" Richie's voice asked at the same time Nick yelled at me. 

"Get me out of here. Gia, come here," Richie started frantically calling out for me. My instinct was to rush to him, but someone's arms stopped me and Nick stepped between us deciding to punch him again, and again. "Stop!!" I hollered, squirming to get out of the arms of whoever was holding me. I wasn't paying attention.