Page 43 of Bad Medicine
Maybe it was just that I didn’t honestly knowwhywe were doing it anymore. In the beginning, it had been about me and Enzo comin’ up. Making our mark and making sure every fucker in this town knew who we were.
But now that we were on top, what was left?
Where did we go from here?
“Rocco, man, what the fuck?”
Startled, I froze, looking at Enzo’s confused face while I reached for another mozzarella ball only to find the bowl empty, my fingers grazing only the puddle of oil left at the bottom.
“Oh, shit.”
“Where the fuck is your head, man?” Enzo said, grabbing a napkin from the pile Francesca had laid out on the table where we were sitting and tossing it at me aggressively. “I have been talking to you for like, five minutes, and you’ve been trying to choke yourself with fuckin’ cheese?”
“I mean,” I said, wiping the oil from my fingers with a smirk. “It’s really fuckin’ good cheese.”
“Alright, smartass,” Enzo replied, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Last time, so listen the fuck up.
“Francesca and I are leaving after next week and heading back to New York.”
“I know that part. What else?”
“We’re going to be a few weeks, at least. Francesca’s dad’s case is being brought before a judge again.”
I sat up straighter. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Enzo scowled. “Seeing as how most of the evidence was bullshit and the whole bust was orchestrated by a dirty fed, they are going to retry the entire thing and see what happens.” Enzo released a breath, his fingers drumming on the surface of the table. “Frankie’s certain that they’ll dismiss all the charges, but I’m not so sure. Just becausemostof the evidence was shit doesn’t mean it wasallshit.” Shaking his head, Enzo huffed out a laugh. “I mean, the man is still a mobster.”
“Damn right, he is.” I chuckled. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m with Frankie. The man deserves to walk after the shit the feds and the goddamn press put him through.” Yeah, I liked to be the center of attention as much as the next loudmouth, but having my ass dragged through the tabloid presses?
No fuckin’ thanks.
“Speaking of the press,” Enzo went on, smoothly shifting gears as he worked through his mental list of shit he thought I needed to know about. “Lexi’s had her eyes peeled for any sign of that fuck Gregor around town.” Just the mention of that prick had my teeth grinding.
“That sorry Russian asshat still bouncin’ around our town?”
“Looks like,” Enzo growled.
“He still got Amber following him around like a bad case of the clap?”
Enzo raised one eyebrow at me. “And I suppose you’d have experience with that?”
“Fuck off.” I laughed, throwing my balled-up napkin at his head. “You know that shit wasn’t true. That woman made it all up because she was mad I didn’t ask her to move in with me.” Scrunching up my face, I cringed at the memory. “I mean, we’d only slept together one time. I swear, I will never bone another woman from Minnesota again.” I gave an exaggerated shiver. “The whole fuckin’ state is full of stage five clingers.”
“Only you would dismiss an entire state’s worth of women because of one bad experience.”
“Yeah, well. It was areallybad experience. I thought that woman was gonna kidnap me or some shit.” I had meant it as a joke, but once I’d said it, Enzo and I both sobered pretty quick.
“Speaking of that,” I started, not particularly liking the direction our conversation had just taken. “Any more word on the information Sway shared with us?”
“Lexi has been looking through missing persons reports, and Trick and Masi have been combing the streets, but so far, no one’s talking.” Enzo frowned, absently scratching at the stubble on his chin. “At least, no one’s saying anything worth listening to.”
I nodded, but stayed quiet.
I hadn’t exactly been upfront about my activities these last few weeks. I had spent some time downtown myself, walking the streets and scouting the places where tourists never dared, trying to find something worth following up on in the hopes that it would lead us to The Chemist.
I’d also taken to checking up on Sway when I had the time and thought I could get away with it. Kid was a truant of the highest order, but he was one hell of a graffiti artist, I’d give him that.
Enzo and I fell into a thoughtful silence, both of us brooding on ways to get the flies out of our goddamn ointment, when the doorbell rang.
