Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Unfortunately, once those two days had passed, daydreaming ceased.
In its place came an awful lot of silence, interrupted by some serious crankiness.
From Cesare and Leonardo.
Yep—those two just couldn’t control their temper.
As far as Cesare was concerned, this was odd. After all, disappearing and laying low was his idea. All the same, just forty-eight hours into that week, he was getting impatient. He would stare at his phone for minutes at a time, expressing his desire to see Maggie’s number flashing on the screen. And, once I told him it wouldn’t be happening for at least a few more days, he got mad and said I was being pessimistic…
Leonardo was even worse. He acted like everything and everyone annoyed him. There was a time when I fell asleep on my couch, and he slapped my calf because I was breathing too heavily. I wasn’t snoring, but I was about to, according to him. After that, he asked me and Cesare to turn off the TV, because it was too bright for him to sleep. For crying out loud… He could have gone to one of the two bedrooms in my apartment and slept for days for all I cared. When I told him, though, he said that my couch was too comfortable to leave it.
We might have been a tight group, but I knew we were going to snap at some point. Sitting around and wasting time was something that none of us enjoyed. Sooner or later, we’d have a huge fight. It wasn’t a matter of “if.” It was a matter of “when.”
So, when my phone rang, seven days after the incident in Amanda’s bar, we were all very interested in hearing what Maggie Owens-Roselli had to say. I set the device down on the coffee table and put it on speaker.
“Hello?”
“Good to know you’re still breathing, Mr. Borelli. I take it you want to keep it that way.”
“I do.”
“Okay, then. I have an idea. My crew hated it, but I was able to convince them in the end. I doubt you’re going to like it, either, but please, pay attention. We need to meet. In person. All seven of us.”
I raised both hands up right and left to silence Cesare and Leonardo, knowing that this would get them all riled up. I wasn’t so thrilled, but I wanted her to explain why she thought this was the correct course of action.
“Let’s say we do meet. What happens next? We share some wine and sing ‘we are the world’?”
“Funny,” she chuckled. “My sources over at the NYPD gave me some very important and unsettling information about the incident at Amanda’s bar yesterday. It would be wise of you and your friends to know. I know that selling this to you is quite difficult, so, let me try and convince you. I’m sending you a picture.”
“Of what?”
“You’ll see. Just give it a minute.”
The notification bell of my cell rang, and a picture popped up on the screen. Cesare and Leonardo leaned in from either side as I zoomed in since it was a bit dark. There was a large hole in the middle of that photo, chunks of plaster bent inward. Shattered bricks were inside that hole, their jagged edges clear. Before anybody could verbalize, the notification bell on my cell rang again. This time, the picture we were looking had been taken from a distance. It contained the same hole, but with the flashing red-and-green “Amanda’s” sign in the top left corner.
“What do you make of this, Mr. Borelli?”
I heaved a long sigh and ran my hand through my hair, having come to an important conclusion.
“There was no bomb in the bar. Someone took a shot at us from outside. Probably with a rocket launcher of some sort.”
“Precisely. That’s what my crew told me as well. I hope this is enough to help you reach a decision about that meeting.”
“We’re doing it,” Cesare interjected. “I’m texting you the location. We meet tonight. Nine pm. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, it is. Thank you, gentlemen.”
“Are you nuts!?” Leonardo exclaimed, furrowing his brow. “Those motherfuckers tried to kill us, and you want to sit down with them?”
“Look at that, man,” Cesare commanded, pointing down at the picture on the screen. “The mob probably fed them some bullshit story about taking us out in that bar, so that they could take care of them and us.”
“Kill two birds with one stone,” I said, agreeing with my cousin. “Six men with one rocket or whatever the hell that was. We need to know more.”
“Agreed,” Cesare nodded.
Leonardo huffed in frustration and kept on repeating his reservations about the meeting. Truth be told, I stopped listening after the first time he’d done that. I knew he hated it—he’d made that clear. I didn’t like this meeting so much, but I could understand its necessity. I got why we had to spend some time with the same people who had been shadowing us for weeks.