Page 27 of Sinful Bargains

Enzo didn’t back down, still glaring at Giovanni. “You’re not too bright, are you? You know what happens when you keep poking a bear? Let me tell you, you’re not gonna like the results.”

Michael yanked Enzo’s shirt, trying to calm him down. “Knock it off. I’m not letting you guys fight. It’s not happening.”

But Enzo’s fists were still clenched, his face twisted with fury. “I swear, Michael, one more word from this?—”

“Listen, looks like you’ve got your hands full, Michael. Taking care of these two idiots,” Giovanni interrupted with asmirk. “I’ll let you handle it. I’ve got practice to get to. See ya later, paperboy!” He winked in my direction.

“I’d really like to know what the hell is wrong with you two!” Michael snapped, frustration evident in his voice as he turned to us.

“Wrong withus?” Enzo roared, his voice echoing down the hallway.

I took a deep breath, exasperated, and mumbled, “Listen, I’ve gotta go. Joey’s been waiting outside for a while now. I’ll catch you guys tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, I hurried off, eager to get away from the mess we’d just created.

As soon as I got outside, I ran into the next mess.. Joey sat in the driver’s seat, parked right in front of the school, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel in rhythm with the song playing. I slid into the passenger seat, doing my best to avoid making eye contact.

He turned the music down, his gaze moving to study the side of my face.

“How was your day, kid?” he asked, his voice casual.

“Not too bad,” I muttered, my gaze fixed out the window.

“You seem angry,” he remarked, pulling the car out onto the street. I could see Giovanni’s eyes locked on me from the baseball field.

“I’m fine,” I said, my jaw clenched. I was anything but fine. I knew he didn’t buy it, but luckily, he didn’t press.

I pushed the encounter with Giovanni to the back of my mind, focusing on the more pressing matter at hand. I wanted to confront Joey, but my heart was pounding so hard I felt like I might pass out. The man sitting beside me—calm, almost gentle—didn’t match the ruthless figure painted in the newspapers. But I had to know if the stories were true.

“Joey,” I started, “can I ask you something?”

He glanced at me briefly, curiosity crossing his face before his eyes returned to the road. “Sure, kid. What’s on your mind?”

I swallowed hard. “Did you really go to prison?”

He nodded without hesitation, like he’d been waiting for this question. “Yeah, I did.”

“For how long?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. I wanted to hear it from him.

“Ten years.”

“Ten years?” I choked out. Yes, I’d read it in the papers, but to hear him confirm it nearly made me sick to my stomach. “That’s forever, Joey.”

He chuckled; the sound just as warm as it usually was. “It felt like forever at times.”

I hesitated, but then the words tumbled out. “Why did you go? What did you do?”

His hands tightened on the wheel, and I felt the air shift. I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he sighed. “I made some bad choices,” he admitted. “Got involved with the wrong crowd. Did things I’m not proud of.”

“Like what?” My pulse quickened. Was this the moment he revealed who he truly was?Go on, say it. Tell me you’re actually just a wise guy. A street guy. A gangster. A mobster. Whatever they called themselves.

He shifted in his seat. “You know what extortion is?”

I nodded. “Sort of. It’s, like, taking money from people, right?” I only knew because the papers had spelled it out in grim detail: how Joey had tried to extort a small business owner, only to discover too late that the man was an undercover cop.

“That’s right,” he said. “I worked for people who didn’t play by the rules, and I did what I thought I had to do. But when you break the rules, you have to deal with the consequences. For me, that meant prison.”

“Who did you work for?” I asked.

His jaw tightened, and his eyes stayed fixed on the road. “That doesn’t matter,” he said.

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