Page 12 of Pocketful of Us

"Aye, aye, aye," Gonzalez muttered, stroking his beard. "It is a dirty trick."

"Question," Presley blurted, holding a finger up. "If Cal kept him around to use in the event of his gangster daddy returning from his time-out on the naughty step in the state penitentiary, then why fake Sketch'sdeathin a letter?"

"Italy."

Presley cocked a brow. "Beautiful country. Shaped like a boot. Population of sixty million. What's your point?"

"Raffaele served his time in an Italian prison," Dad bit out, looking bone weary and worse for wear. "Not thestate penitentiary."

"Well, it must suck to be him, but that doesn’t answer my question." Pushing his glasses up his nose, Pres glowered at my father, tone laced with distrust when he asked, "Why did Cal tell Raffaele that his son was dead if he was keeping him alive as a bargaining chip? Why did Cal give Sketch toyouto raise? What the hell is up with that?"

"You think I'm lying, Quinton?"

"Only when your lips are moving, Christopher."

A snort escaped Lucky, who quickly smothered his amusement with a bottle of beer. "Kid needs his own TV show," he muttered, before placing the rim of the bottle to his lips. "He's reality gold.".

"Well, thanks for the compliment, but I consider myself to be more palladium than gold. It's rarer than gold and much harder to come by," Presley shot back before continuing with his interrogation. "You said that Cal eliminated anyone who was openly loyal to this Toretto mafia king." Standing up, he prowled around the room, looking like a scrawny state prosecutor. "Well, smack my ass and call me Judy, but I know full well that if one ofmycousins was in trouble, I'd be by their side in a jiffy. And trust me, I don't say that lightly," he added, widening his eyes in dramatic fashion. "I have some seriously questionable cousins. I'm talking the illicit drug taking, stripping, my body is not a temple, kind of cousins– oh, no offense, Luck."

"None taken."

"You know I was referring to your sister Hayden, right?"

"Half-sister."

"Pssh. Semantics."

"Focus, cowboy."

"Focusing," Presley replied, before turning back to my father. "Which brings me to the question; where was this Raffaele dude'scousinwhen Cal Dillon was testing out loyalty? Hmm?" He glowered at him. "Where wereyou?"

"Answer me this, Quinton; what would have happened to Jacob if I had been a martyr that night?" Dad asked wearily. "Would he be here to tell the tale, or would he have truly burned with his mother?"

Presley was quiet for a long moment, clearly working through his thoughts before reluctantly nodding. "Well, shit on a stick, that's a fair point."

"Cal was always incredibly envious of my older cousin. Even as small children back home in Sicily, Cal's jealousy had festered away inside of him. Their fathers were brothers-in-arms, with Raff's father, Giacobbe, thecapo dei capiof the family and Donnie Dillon hiscapo bastone. Raff was Cal's closest friend from babyhood, yet he always competed with him. I was four years younger than the boys, Raff's annoying little cousin tagging along after him, but I remember it well. Be it for the affection of girls, power inCosa Nostra, or their fathers' attention, Calisto made it his life's mission to get one over on Raff. It never happened. No matter how hard he tried, Cal always found himself…"

"Second best," I whispered, reeling at the fact that all of this felt more familiar than I wanted it to.

"And Raff's second in command," Presley added. "Well hell, the sick bastard must have taken great pleasure in watching Raff's son endure a lifetime of the same fate."

"More than you could ever know."

"What about the sworn-in vow of Omertá?" Lucky asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Didn't you all take a pact of silence before becoming made men?" Leaning back in his seat, he rested his feet on the table in front of him and took a swig of beer. "That's how it works, right? Omertá is compulsory in your world and failure to uphold the vow is punishable by death? Snitches get stitches – or cement boots – and all that jazz."

Dad nodded in resignation. "Yes."

Lucky cocked a brow. "But not to Cal?"

"It's complicated," Dad replied. "When Raff came into power and Cal became his underboss, the world was changing and he wanted the family to change with it. Raff was adamant on upholding the code – one important factor in particular."

"Which was?" Lucky drawled.

"Women," my father replied simply.

"Please," Presley groaned, holding a hand up. "Tell me that when you say women, you're not referring tosex trafficking?"

"Yes." Dad nodded in confirmation. "It's one of the most lucrative businesses in the world, and one Cal desperately wanted to steerCosa Nostratowards, but Raff refused point blank to even consider it. They clashed daily after that."

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