Page 6 of That Mafioso Magic
“Is everything all ri—” his wife was asking him as she came around the corner holding a baby in her arms. She stopped talking and walking when she saw me standing in the doorway next to her husband.
“Well, that’s what I’m here to find out,” I said, stepping closer to her.
She looked past me to her husband, a worried expression on her face. “Johnathan?”
“It’s okay, honey. This is Mr. Tamir, my boss,” John said in a shaky voice that betrayed the calmness he was trying to display.
Her eyes scanned me up and down and she knew I wasn’t there for a wellness check. “Is everything all right?” she asked again, her brow furrowed and lips drawn in a frown.
I smirked. “Your daughter, how is she doing?” I asked.
“She isn’t feeling her best today,” the mother said.
“I’d like to see her,” I said again, not asking. I looked at John to make sure he got the point.
He nodded. Beads of sweat peppering his forehead was a sure sign he was terrified of what I might do. I could see the tenseness in his shoulders, as well as in his wife’s. “Please follow me, Mr. Tamir,” John said.
I followed him to his daughter’s room and the smell of her sickness was stronger. He opened the door, revealing a little girl lying in her bed hooked up to a machine that monitored her vitals. She looked to be no more than six years old, innocent in every sense of the word. Her petite fingers were lightly gripping a white teddy bear. I sighed. Humans were so damn fragile, it was almost like, what was the point?
John approached his sleeping daughter and kissed her forehead, then turned to look at me. “You see, Mr. Tamir… I really want to be able to pay you back, but I can’t.”
I stepped into the room, giving it a good scenting, and could smell the aura of death surrounding the child. She may pull through, she may not… that was the toss-up. She was pale with dark circles around her eyes and looked to be struggling with each tiny breath. Cancer. A horrible affliction if ever there was one.
I turned back to John and he was looking at her with tears brimming in his eyes. He must have felt so helpless, so completely useless that he couldn’t save his child and provide for his family. I stepped away from the child and left her bedroom. I walked to the living room and took a seat in the only chair there. John took a seat on the sofa across from me, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Honey?” his wife began.
“Baby… can you give me and Mr. Tamir some privacy? We need to discuss some things,” he said.
“John—”
“Please!” John snapped, then looked at his wife with a pleading expression. I could tell she’d walked away when her scent dissipated.
I arched an eyebrow. “Are you behind on your bills again?” I asked.
John lowered his head, shame apparent in his expression. “By a month. I had to get Allison her medication.”
“If you lose your apartment, where will you go?”
He shrugged. “I… I don’t know. We don’t have any family here. Both Miranda’s and my parents are dead. If I lose this apartment, my daughter dies. I’m desperate, Mr. Tamir.”
“Remind me again, what kind of work do you do for me?”
“I work at your casino as a waiter. My wife is a teller at a bank, but her insurance doesn’t cover everything Allison needs,” he said.
“Do you have life insurance?” I asked.
He nodded.
“How much?”
“Twenty-five grand when I die,” he said.
Well, that was shit money. I had cufflinks that cost more than that. I prided myself on being a hardass. A man you didn’t cross, but that wasn’t to say that I didn’t have a soft side. I just rarely let people see it.
“What other skills do you have besides bringing food and drinks to a table without spilling it?” I asked.
“I am a pretty good painter. I mean, I did all the painting in this apartment building.” By his expression, I could tell he was proud of that.
