Mobster's Angel (Mobster Series) (14 page)

“You said to fuckin’ come back this week!” Vito yells back at a short
, balding guy with a nasty looking cigar hanging from him mouth.  It’s all slobbery and gross.
Yuck!

“I said no fighting outside the ring!” baldy shouts back.

“He antagonized me,” Vito says.  Then Vito kicks his foot out and hits Jacko in the side with an air of nonchalance.

Guys in the circle surrounding Vito and Jacko laugh.
  Jacko is not moving at all.  A large man comes over and touches his fingertips to Jacko’s neck, checking for a pulse.
Holy crap!

He nods
and baldy orders.  “Get him up.  Take him to the back room.”

A couple of men lift Jacko and carry him to a doorway
at the back of the warehouse.  Ty comes over to Ronnie, and he sees me behind the bar.  He smiles and gives me a little wave. I wave back stupidly. 

“You’re up next…
” Baldy says to Vito in a terse tone.

“Yup,” Vito says and turns
, looking around.   I stand up all the way.  He sees me and his face shows relief.  He walks to me. 

“Why did you hit him?” I ask.

“Because he called you a name.”

Vito reaches over the counter
. His large frame allows him to easily pick me up.  I shiver a little at his touch as I swing over the bar.  He helps me to stand on the floor on the other side.

“So?  He called me
a
bitch
.  What’s the matter?  You can’t say that word? You swear all the time.” 

“Not in the same sentence with you,” he says

“Oh,” I answer, perplexed.  “Who’s the guy with the cigar that was yelling at you?”

“Baby.”

“Baby? That’s his name.”

“They call him Baby Ticks.”

A voice bellows out, “Vito versus Carmino!”

“I
gotta go.” Vito picks up his beer that is probably warm by now and takes a swig. He walks to the roped area in the center of the room.  Ronnie appears at my side.

“Why was that guy
, Baby, mad at Vito?”

“He doesn’t want to lose money.  The fights everyone bets on are in the ring.  Vito used to be a staple here
, and he made Baby a lot of money.  He hasn’t been around lately, so Baby got this new guy, Jacko.  Vito takes out Jacko then doesn’t come back.  Baby doesn’t make money.”

“Oh.”

“Jacko isn’t as good as Vito.  But he at least puts on a good show for business.”

A large guy enters the ring with Vito.  He
’s not as broad, but he looks like he could pack a punch.  They circle each other.  The crowd moves in, everyone trying to get the best view.  A few people shout to Vito.  “Get him Rossi!”  “You show him, Kid!”

“Hey, they called him Kid
,” I observe. 

“Yeah, well, most of these guys are in there fifties.  To them, Vito is a kid.”

Vito and Carmino walk around in a wide circle, sizing each other up.

“What are the rules?” I ask Ronnie, keeping my eyes focused on the match.

“There are none,” he says.

I remember back in South Bend at a Notre Dame party, Vito played some weird drinking game with the college kids that involved fighting.  That was much more playful than this.

Vito’s fist cocks back and he hits Carmino in the nose.  He stumbles backwards, but he recovers quickly.  Carmino flips his fists out and sends one flying into Vito’s jaw, then yanks on Vito’s outstretched arm, pulling him forward. Vito falls, but he gets his feet back under himself and spins around. 

Each opponent gets some equally damaging shots in.  This gets the crowd really going.  I shrink back physically and mentally with each punch Vito receives.  I want to be strong
, but I hate seeing anyone get hurt. And it’s worse when it’s one of your friends.

After a few more jabs,
Vito looks tired from pulverizing Jacko.  He seems a little sluggish.

I flick my eyes around the room
, and Baby Ticks has a greasy smile as he watches the fray.  I feel like something is off.  Not that I have anything to judge this whole night by, but still, something is nagging at me.  Vito’s footing is not right.  He usually stands with his legs farther apart.  I remember from seeing him fight at that party.  Vito shakes his head, as if he’s confused. 
Oh no
, I think. Worry shoots through me.

The cheering doesn’t die down despite Vito’s apparent slow down.  He has his back to us so I lift up
on my toes and try to catch a glimpse of his face.   He swings around the ring with Carmino. They’re wrestling, not really Vito’s style. Each person struggles to gain the upper hand.

Some guy with black slicked
hair yells frantically. Others join in.  I hear different things.  “This is bullshit!”  “Fixed!”  “This sucks!” 

Vito sways
, and Ronnie leaves my side and runs to the ring.  I see the top of Ty’s head moving towards the ring, too.  Ty and Ronnie go into the ring.  Vito shoves them away.  Carmino strikes Ty.  Ty deflects it and pins Carmino’s arms to his sides.  Ronnie grabs Vito by the sides of his head and takes a good look into his eyes.  Ronnie shakes his head, pissed.  Vito pushes him away.  I see Ronnie pull his phone out.

Everyone is shouting at this point.  A circle of angry red faces
forms around Baby.  The leader of the mass of furious gamblers is screaming at Baby and is
in
his face.  “Cheater!”  Baby’s enforcers form a blockade, creating a cocoon to shield their leader.

I turn back to the
bar, curious; Vito’s glass is still there.  Immediately, I think someone has drugged him.  Ziggy is with the crowd, watching.

I notice a man. His eyes are sunken in
. Deep purple marks the flesh beneath his lower lashes. He is blatantly staring at me.  Everyone else’s attention is on the fight or Baby, but this guy is watching
me
… like a dog waiting for his kibble.

I lunge for some stupid reason to grab the glass.  The man gets up and knocks it out of my hand
, and it shatters on the floor. 
What the hell?
  Warning bells go off in my head.  So the next stupid thing I do is squeeze into the fray of angry men. 
Get away!
My sole purpose is to get to Vito.

I
’m so short that I easily slip through the bodies with only a couple of elbows and arm brushes.  I think someone tried to pinch my butt, but only got two fingers full of my shirt.  I work my way to Vito.  I can see him through the limbs of irate people.  He’s swaying and repeatedly shaking his head, attempting to clear it, I think.

“Ronnie!” I yell.

He turns and sees me.  Ty sees me too because he reaches out to grab me and pull me towards them.  The five of us are in the ring now.  I stand on my tiptoes to look at Vito.  I examine him, and his eyes are vacant.  He shakes his head violently, and his face suddenly becomes vicious.  I shrink back.

“Vito!” Ronnie shouts at him.  “Come on man, shake it off!”

“Water!” Ty orders.  A bottle is handed to him.  It’s capped, but I’m not sure if it’s been opened.  “Drink!” he commands.  Vito takes it and chugs it down.  Ronnie leads him out of the ring. I follow very worried.  Everyone tampers down their agitation.

I come up to Vito
’s side and wrap my arm around his waist.  His body is damp and rock hard.  I need to feel like I’m doing something.  If he falls my way, he’ll crush me, but I take the risk.  My heart is beating rapidly in fear for him.

Ronnie is talking to him in harsh tones, angr
ily.  Someone did this on purpose.  The only person I can think of is the owner, Baby.  He wanted to see Vito go down.

We lean Vito against the wall near the entrance.  He slides down and sits on the floor. 

“Drink more,” Ronnie instructs.

Vito listens and swigs the rest of the water down,
and then rubs his eyes with the bottom of his hands.  When he pulls his hands away, his eyes are blood shot, but he at least seems more alert.

I hear people in the stairwell. 
Someone runs down the stairs towards us.  Into the smoky light comes Antonio. 
Thank God!

He sees us. 
Uh oh!
  His face is murderous. 
It’s a step up from the Italian-Mafia-Death-Glare!
  I’m trying to gauge if he’s more enraged at seeing me here or at the situation of his best friend being drugged.

Antonio spins around to the crowd and bellows, “Baby!” There is a major shuffling of people.  They move quickly and fearfully.  “Where the fuck is Baby?!”

Ronnie stands up from his crouched position next to Vito and goes to Antonio’s side.  They speak quietly.  I can’t hear what they’re saying.  It’s not anything good, of that I’m sure. 

Across the room, in front of the bar, I see shards of glass glisten in the dirt and muck that makes up the floor.  I scan the room for the guy I saw earlier, but I don’t see him. The room is dead quiet, eerily somber.

Everyone stares at Antonio, waiting.  I want to tell Antonio what I think happened, but I feel like I can’t.  It’s the wrong time.  Part of me wants to raise my hand like I’m in school, like an idiot.
Excuse me - I think someone drugged his beer.  Oh, and a crazy guy with purple bags under his eyes practically attacked me.  Might have been him. FYI.

I turn back to Vito.  His faculties are coming back.  He tries to stand, and I help him.

“Everybody get the fuck out of here!  Except Baby!”

The crowd rushes for the stairs.  No one even stops to question Antonio.  These tough Mafioso are reduced to children being scolded.  Carmino passes by us, and Vito reaches his hand out to stop him.

“Next time, Dude,” Vito says.

Carmino nods.  Obviously there are no hard feelings, and Vito wanted him to know that.  The guy probably thought he’d get whacked if we believed he drugged Vito. 
Would my dad be called to take care of him?
  I think, idly.

Vito quickly regains his senses now.  He looks down at me and brushes his hand along my face, checking me out.  The way he’s looking at me is unexpected. Warm concern has washed over his face.

“You better?” Antonio asks Vito.  He nods.

The last few people scurry up the sta
irs and out. Everyone is gone, even Baby’s enforcers and Ziggy.  Alone in the cavernous room, sitting behind his crates, is Baby.

“Take her out of here, Ronnie,” Antonio orders.

I open my mouth to speak, but Antonio’s mien says
don’t say a fucking word.
  I hear it in my head as though he actually said it.

Ronnie approaches me and subtly does his patented air quotes. 
Uh oh!

Holy fucking shit!
My head is so foggy.  I can’t believe someone would do this to me.  I rub my eyes for the millionth time to shake this shit off.  I can’t believe I got taken.  I didn’t follow my own damn rules.  Something could have happened to Erin, and I wouldn’t even have known about it.

Antonio steps across the room, closer to Baby.

“Pop hasn’t been happy lately, Baby.  Now this shit.  Are you running something we don’t know about?”

“I didn’t do it,” he says, nervously.

“Do I look fucking
stunad
to you, Baby?”

Tonio puts his hand on the gun in the front of his jeans.  “You’re the only one who had something to gain by putting Vito down.”

“I didn’t.”

“You know how Pop feels about drugs.”

“No. Yous know I would never go against your pop.”

I’m getting impatient.  I take two steps forward and grab Baby by the throat.

“If you didn’t do it, then who did?” I spit at him.

“I don’t know
, Vito. I swear.”

I see his arm move and reach into his crate.  I kick it over.  A thirty-eight magnum and a shit load of money scatter across the floor, mixed with splinters of wood.  I pin him to the ground as Antonio trains his glock right at Baby’s forehead.

“The drugs aren’t mine.  I swear,” he squeals like a pig, his stogie falling out of his mouth and landing in a pile of dust.  “Not mine! I don’t do that shit!”  I feel his heart race under my fist that is wrapped in his shirt.

“Then, you’re still implying that someone gave YOU the drugs,” Tonio says smoothly.  I clench Baby tighter, lift him a few inches off the floor, and slam him back down.  An
oaf
escapes his grimy mouth.

“This guy… he gave me three G’s.”

“What fuckin’ guy?” I bark.

“Some sleazy chooch.  He gave me three G’s to slip you some juice.  I don’t fuckin’ know why.”

“To make him throw the fight?!” Tonio yells.

“Naw… I don’t think so…  I didn’t fuckin’ ask.” He rushes out between heavy breaths.