Page 5 of Remember When We
That was the kind of shit Dennis did. Money, drugs, anything that involved hard dough.
What drew me in was that he did it outside the mafia guys who were set here.
Guys I wouldn’t have wanted to run into, because of the hierarchy that came all the way from Italy that placed the Rossi’s in Chicago above anyone here. Also, because I just wanted to do something outside of my father’s influence.
I’d found out Dennis was looking to hire and in my many attempts to avoid Chicago I thought that was a good option. A good option for me, and I wasn’t doing anything without Marshall.
I looked around the garage, tension making my shoulders tight as thoughts of what to do weighed heavily on my mind.
The place looked more like a workshop, from the way we’d decked it out with everything we needed to potentially make a motorcycle go demon fast.
Speed demons that was what we were, and as I looked at my friend who’d been with me for as long as I could remember I wished the fuck we’d just stuck with that.
Messing around with bikes. Messing around with old and new parts, trying to see what could be better, what worked and what didn’t.
Instead we were looking to do things like this. Link up with the worst badass we could find in attempts to get rich quick on the skills that could either land us behind bars or dead. Yes, fucking dead ... the reality of this job he was talking about.
“Imagine the dough Gio, that’s some serious coin and it wouldn’t just end there.” Marshall continued nodding his dark blonde head. “Fuck, Gio I think we could do this. Work for him maybe a year or two max then head to Mexico and set up our own business.”
“Yes, you’re right that is some serious dough.” I agreed with that part.
Marshall was so excited he didn’t take note of my hesitation, or my reluctance.
I looked at him and straightened up. All the trouble he’d gotten into was my fault. All of it, everything he said and did.
Fucking Dennis was for sure the hook up to some serious cash. Working with him meant I wouldn’t have to be under my Pa’s thumb. I loved Chicago, loved visiting and hanging with my daredevil friend Dante, but I hated the idea of working for Pa.
Hated it like nothing else.
The man wanted to keep control over me and I didn’t want that.
But …
I didn’t want this either. I didn’t want Marshall getting mixed up with a guy like Dennis. It would ruin him and draw him deeper into darkness.
We were both twenty-eight years old and even if we continued as we were it would be better than getting mixed up with Dennis. Better at least for Marshall.
“Marshall, I don’t think we should go,” I stated. There finally, I said it.
I said it and he was now looking at me like I was bat shit crazy. Of course, he would who would turn down the chance for a hundred grand?
His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “What the fuck are you saying man?”
“I’m saying we should pass on it. We should pass and leave it. We can make money some other way. You can make money some other way.”
I said it like that, because I actually didn’t need money.
Pa was rolling in it as an associate for Raphael Rossi, the big Chicago mafia boss. Pa was in the business and I as his son got whatever I needed. What Iwantedwas a whole other story though.
Marshall’s father, Paul, ran a bar. He took care of his family on a good, legit living. You could tell he lived comfortably and that was sufficient for them.
“This is a joke.” Marshall fumed. “Has to be a fucking joke you’re playing on me, right Gio?” He tilted his head to the side and glowered at me.
“Nah, not joking man. I’m being serious.”
“No, this is a damn joke. You just wanted to screw with me. Or, warm me up.” He laughed off key.
A joke …
