Adamo’s face turned red. “Shut up.”
“Come on, you are almost fourteen. When I was your age, I’d already fucked a few girls.” Savio looked at Remo. “Lock him in a room with a few hookers so they can fuck him into shape.”
Adamo shoved Savio’s shoulder. “Shut up! I don’t need your hookers.”
“If you want to be a real Falcone, you can’t be a fucking virgin. It’s pathetic. Or perhaps you are a fag?”
Adamo jumped up and threw himself at Savio. They both tumbled to the ground and began punching. Adamo hadn’t yet fought in the cage like Savio, so it wasn’t wise of him to attack.
Remo shook his head, but he didn’t intervene. I moved closer to get a better view in case things got too rough. Savio had gotten the upper hand and straddled Adamo, punching him hard once, twice, and then lifted his arm for another punch. I took a step forward to stop him, but Remo swung himself over the sofa, landed beside Savio and grabbed him by the collar before pulling him off Adamo and shoving him away. Savio landed on the sofa, breathing hard and making a move to get back up.
“You stay there,” I ordered. His eyes held challenge before he nodded and slumped against the backrest.
Adamo was sprawled out on his back, face red and lips busted. He shook but made no move to stand. Remo bent over him and held out a hand. Adamo didn’t take it, only glared. “Adamo,” Remo said. “Don’t try my fucking patience.”
Adamo accepted Remo’s hand and let him pull him to his feet. Adamo winced, then with a last glare at Savio, he stormed toward the French doors and fled outside.
“Fuck, perhaps he’s really into guys,” Savio said, scrunching up his face. Then his eyes widened. Sometimes when we were out on business, he managed to act like a man, but in moments like this it became obvious that he wouldn’t be turning seventeen for another month. At his age, Remo and I had already been hardened by years on the street. I wasn’t sure if we’d ever been teenagers. “Will you kill him, then?”
Remo got into Savio’s face. “We are brothers. We will stand by each other. I don’t care if Adamo is into fucking goats or ducks or men. He is our brother.”
Savio nodded slowly. “He’s annoying as fuck. If fucking a guy makes him more tolerable, I can live with that.”
Remo snorted. Then he turned to me. “Talk to him. You are the only one who can deal with him.”
I headed into the garden, following the stench of smoke, toward one of the lounge chairs beside the pool. Adamo was hunched over, smoking a regular cigarette. Since Remo’s last warning, he hadn’t touched anything harder. I was curious how long that would last. I ripped the butt out of his mouth and threw it into the pool. “No drugs.”
“It’s a cigarette, not pot or heroine,” he mumbled.
I pulled another chair toward him and sat down across from him. “What’s going on?”
He glared. “Nothing.”
“Adamo, if you want to be treated like an adult, you have to act like one. Now tell me why you are acting the way you do.”
His gaze lowered to his sneakers. “I don’t want to screw a hooker or any of the strippers you take home.”
“That became obvious when you attacked Savio. What did I tell you about fighting?”
“Only attack if you are sure you can beat your opponent.”
“You can’t beat Savio. Not yet.”
“I won’t ever be as good as all of you. I don’t enjoy hurting people as much as you do.”
I had figured as much. Adamo had never been a very violent child. “You are strong and a good fighter. You don’t have to enjoy hurting or killing to be good at it.”
He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to kill again.”
He had killed his first man during the attack on Roger’s Fight Arena, and unlike Remo, Savio, and I, his first murder haunted him. “You will get used to it.”
“Maybe I don’t want to get used to it,” he muttered. “I’m not like you.”
“You have time,” I said. There was no use discussing this now. He still had five months until he turned fourteen; he wouldn’t be inducted until then. “What’s your problem with the women your brothers and I take home?”
He stiffened and his head shot up. “I’m not gay.”
I regarded him but his face remained in the shadows, making it even harder to read him. “Remo wouldn’t punish you for it. We are brothers, Adamo. Nothing will change that.”
Adamo gnawed on his lip then winced.
“I will have to stitch that up.”
He nodded. “I’m not gay.”
I tilted my head, but he continued without further prodding.
“I don’t want a hooker because they don’t even like you. They screw you because you are their boss or because they are scared. I don’t want that. I want a girl who likes me and who wants to be with me.”