Page 86 of Genesis

“What?” I ask unbelievingly. Nugget, who’s sitting on the sofa, jumps up.

“He’s in charge?”

“Yes. Get rid of Mickey’s body and do it quickly.”

I look over at Nugget, who narrows his eyes at me before he leaves the room. He should be in charge. He’s been here longer.

“Let’s go,” Johnny says. “I know where we can bury him.”

Moretti doesn’t even want to see the man? He doesn’t even shed a tear for the guy who pledged his life to him? My thoughts about Moretti change. My thoughts about everything change.

____________

The moon is high in the sky now as Carson, Johnny, and I stand over Mickey’s grave. We’re deep into the Pine Barrens. Our hands are bloody, dirt-covered, and calloused as we each hold a shovel. We stand silent, worn out from the hole we just dug. The wind howls through the trees, sending a chill down my spine as animals scurry through the Pines.

“We better go before the Jersey Devil comes,” I say.

Carson smirks. “You think he’s real?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.” I rub under my chin. “I don’t know about anything anymore.”

I feel Johnny glance over at me, but I don’t return his look.

I sigh, looking down at the dirt Mickey’s under.

“May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sunshine warm upon your face. May the rains fall upon your fields. And until we meet again, may God hold you in the hollow of His hand,” I pray.

We three do the sign of the cross and head back, and as we climb into the car, a thought slams into my mind.

Prom.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Johnny “Sweep” Dolffi

I stand outside Bones’ bar, hitting my smoke as the cold Jersey wind sweeps across my face. My boy has been gone for a month now. I’ve fucking searched everywhere. The cops have, too, only because Moretti is paying them otherwise. They don’t give a fuck about Danny O’Brien, and it helps that Bexley’s uncle has filed a missing person’s report.

How can he just disappear? Both him and Bex? Did they plan this? Would he do this and not tell me? He’s always had it bad for the girl. He’d mentioned getting out of this lifestyle when Mickey got popped, but I just can’t see him not telling me.

We’re boys. We’re brothers. I’ve had this guy by my side since we were kids.

A few people walk into the bar. “’Sup, Sweep? Sorry about Bones, man.”

I nod, hitting the joint between my fingers as I lean back against the wall, my eyes going to the concrete below me when I hear a truck pull up.

Trig gets out. “Why are you standing out here in the cold, man?” he asks.

“Too many fucking people in there,” I say, passing him the joint.

He nods. “You and your introverted ass.”

I shrug, looking at his boots. “Have you been playing in the mud?”

He looks down, too, blowing smoke. “Nah, went out to my dad’s old hunting cabin.”

“What the fuck for?” I ask, looking at his truck and seeing the tires are caked also.

“Needed some space.”

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