Page 21 of Forgotten Sacrifice
After getting Fabio set up, I take my leave. Sal’s in the parking lot smoking a cigarette. “How’s it feel being up the new boss’s asshole?” he taunts.
“Funny you say that, because you were so far up Sergio’s, I’m amazed you found your way out of that dead man’s rigor-mortis-stiff-sphincter. Might want to ice your nose, by the way. It’s looking a littledelicate.”
“Tell jailbait I said hi,” he calls after me, and it takes all my willpower not to turn around and pop his ass right here, right now.
Needing to calm the fuck down, I drive to my brother’s bar, and the first stop is the men’s room. Washing my hands, I take off the eye patch and adjust my downturned eye. Doc Caruso was the one who fixed me up with my glass eye, and while the technology’s improved with permanent implants, I’m not too keen on enduring another eye surgery.
Pocketing my eye patch, I walk to the bar and take a seat on the stool.
“What’s with you?” Aldo asks.
“Nothing,” I’m quick to answer. “Gimmie two orders ofburgers and fries to go.” Rubbing my temples, I check my phone to make sure the tutor hasn’t tried to call me. I probably shouldn’t have left them alone together on the first day. Me, I can handle Luna’s claws, but the tutor? If the woman’s shredded like a piece of meat that’s been run through a grinder, I only have myself to blame.
“Two orders, huh? You’ve never ordered food for Sophie. Wonder who you’re feeding?” Aldo muses.
Finding no messages or missed calls, I pocket my phone. “Have you always been this nosy?” I ask my brother.
He smirks. “You know I have.”
“My ward’s staying with me for the time being,” I admit.
“And the plot thickens,” he says dramatically. “When do I get to meet Luna?”
“Never.”
“Oh, come on! Bring her to the bar; I’d be more than happy to keep her entertained.” Aldo wags his eyebrows.
I jerk my brother by his shirt inches from my face. “Keep your fucking hands off her unless you want to lose them.”
He laughs, holding up his hands. “Alright, alright. I am rather fond of these babies.” I release him with a little shove, and he smiles.
My clients trickle in, and one by one, they settle up. “Hey, did you learn more about that fight you were talking about?” I ask my bettor.
His eyes go wide, and he stammers, “Uh, no. I was mistaken.”
“Alright,” I say smoothly, making a notation of his upcoming bet. “See you next week.” I pocket my little book and pencil.
Aldo appears from the back of the bar with a to-go bag, and I ask him quietly, “Have you heard anything about a boxing matchup here in town?”
“Nope.”
“A client mentioned it last week, and now he’s being cagey as hell about it.”
“I’ll keep my ears open.” He jerks the bag out of my reach. “But only if I get to meet Luna.”
“Don’t make me fire you.” I lean over the bar and snatch the bag.
He flashes a smug smile. “From my own bar?”
“I should’ve never deeded it to you,” I grumble. Back when I was raking in money hand over fist, I needed legit businesses to launder the industrial-sized buckets of cash. These days, it’s more of a sink-wash operation.
“Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve, big brother. But hey, I’m nice enough to comp your meals,” he calls after me.
Chapter
Eleven
Vince
