“Careful,” I warned.
He shrugged. “I won’t tell Remo. At least she has her own free will. The girls Remo always brings home kiss the ground he walks on because they fear him. It’s disgusting.”
“Adamo, you are a kid but you need to grow up and learn when to keep your fucking mouth shut. Remo is your brother, but he is still…Remo.”
Adamo did keep his mouth shut when we walked into the Falcone mansion. Remo, Savio and Nino were sitting on the couches in the living room. Savio got up with a grin and punched his brother’s shoulder. “You are screwed.” Then he sauntered off. Sixteen and almost as intolerable as Adamo most days. Nino on the other hand, he looked almost bored, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to recite every fucking word tomorrow.
Remo gave me a nod. Perhaps Remo hadn’t lost his trust in me. Perhaps things would turn out okay after all. Remo turned to his brother. “Broken wrist?”
Adamo glared at the ground. I let go of him and took a step back. That was between Remo and him. Remo pushed off the couch and came toward Adamo. “You won’t take drugs again. No cocaine, heroine, grass, crack, you name it. Next time, I won’t send Fabiano. Next time I will deal with you.” If anyone ever killed one of his brothers, then it would be Remo.
Adamo raised his head, the same fucking challenge back in his eyes.
I wanted to slap him.
“Like you dealt with our mother?”
Remo’s face became still.
Nino slowly rose from the couch. “You shouldn’t speak of things, you don’t understand.”
“Because nobody explains them to me,” Adamo hissed. “I’m sick of you treating me like a stupid child.”
Nino positioned himself between Adamo and Remo, who still hadn’t said anything. “Then stop acting like one.” He gripped Adamo’s arm and pulled him along. “Let me treat your wounds.”
Remo hadn’t moved yet. His eyes were like black hell fire.
Great. And I was left to deal with him like that.
“Set up a fight for me, tonight. Someone who can hold his own against me.”
The only people who could hold their own against him were Nino and I. Savio was on his way to getting there.
Remo’s eyes settled on me and for a moment I was certain he’d ask me to fight him. We hadn’t ever fought in an official match. For good reason, there were no ties in the fighting cage. One of us would have to give up.
“Or better two. Alert Griffin. He should hurry with the bets.”
I sighed, but it was no use arguing with Remo when he was in a mood like that. Perhaps this would distract him for a while. The longer it took for him to notice that Soto had disappeared the better. I turned to set everything up, when Remo’s voice made me stop.
“And Fabiano, have you seen Soto recently? I can’t contact him and nobody seems to know where he is.”
I forced my expression into one of mild curiosity. “Perhaps one of his clients gave him trouble today?”
“Perhaps,” he said quietly, but his eyes said something else.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I had considered calling in sick at the bar and staying at Fabiano’s apartment, snuggled into the soft blankets that smelled of him, of us. But eventually the worries in my head had become too loud. I needed to distract myself.
And it worked. The bar was busy that day. People were almost overexcited about something. They drank and ate more than usual, and Griffin had a hard time taking their bets. I heard the name Falcone being mentioned a few times but wasn’t sure which of them was going to go into the cage.
“Did you hear Remo Falcone is going to fight again tonight?” Cheryl said when I stepped up to her behind the bar.
Hearing his name turned my insides to ice. “And?”
“It’s a big deal. He hasn’t fought in almost a year. He’s Capo after all.”
“Then why now?” I asked, suddenly worried.
“I hear his youngest brother wrecked his favorite car,” she said. Good. Was that what Fabiano had to deal with?
Roger came up behind us with a beer crate and set it down beside us with a resounding thud. “And I hear it’s because one of his men disappeared, probably defected,” he said. “And now stop gossiping. Falcone doesn’t like it.”
“Who was it?” Cheryl asked.
“A guy called Soto.”
Cold washed over me. “What do you mean he defected?”
Roger gave me a strange look. “He disappeared without a word. That usually means someone defected. If the Russians or someone else had got him, they’d have left a bloody message behind.” He went past us toward Griffin and two fighters already dressed in shorts. I had seen them in the cage in the last few days. Both of them had won their fights.
“You look pale. What’s wrong? By now you should be used to all this. It’s daily business around here.”