Read Online Awakening the Mobster by Amy Rachiele - Free Book Online

me think he is seeing passed me.
    I puff out some smoke and my adrenaline starts humming. My body is prepping itself to kick some ass. I crush out my cigarette on the dirty floor and approach him. His broken fingers are taped together haphazardly; his face is swollen from where I punched him yesterday.
    “You got anything for me, Allen?” I say sinisterly.
    “He ain’t got nothin’ for you,” the bartender answers.
    “I’d like Allen to answer me,” I return.
    “He’s so fucked up, he can barely talk,” the bartender says.
    “That’s not good, Allen,” I say, approaching.
    Allen’s glassy unfocused eyes struggle to find me through his long stringy brown hair. I reach out and yank him off the stool with one hand. He doesn’t even struggle.
    “Hey, you Delisi’s kid?” the bartender asks.
    I am taken aback by his question. I am still holding Allen up, my fists clenched in his filthy clothes. Nonna would have a fit if she saw this guy.
    “No, I work for him,” I lie. What’s this guy’s angle? No one should know my name except the Boss. I hope Pop has done his due diligence. This could get ugly. The Chicago underground is three times the size of Palmetto’s.
    I drag a limp Allen through the bar area to the kitchen. I kick the swinging door open and spot an outside door. I tug him through it out into an alley. The alley stinks worse than the bar. Holy Shit!
    I toss him to the ground. I rifle through his pockets. I don’t find a thing, not even lint. Nothing.
    “Okay, Allen. Where do you get the cash to get high?” I ask.
    He doesn’t answer. I kick him in the ribs. He moans.
    “Hey! Allen! I asked you a question. Where do you get the money to get high?”
    I circle him when he doesn’t answer. I tap his shoulder with my foot. He mumbles unintelligently.
    “Allen. I’m asking one last time,” I say. “Where do you get the fuckin’ money?!” I yell it this time.
    “No...money...” he slurs.
    “What?” I ask.
    “No...money...” he slurs again.
    “Sorry, Allen, wrong answer,” I say, and I swoop down and grab his leg and twist it with a hard jerk. SNAP! “I’ll be back in forty-eight hours. You better have something for me.”
    I leave him lying in the grubby alley. I light another cigarette as I make my way to the car. My phone vibrates. A text from Vito:
    Why am I in a fucking college English class?!
    I guess Megan convinced them to hang out with Troy in his classes. I smile at the thought.
     
    *****
     
    Megan:
     
    The sights and sounds of the English seminar flow over me. This is so awesome. The room is a lecture hall with stadium seating. We are in the back by the door. Vito wouldn’t let us sit any further down. He said we had to be where he could see the door. Whatever! I am just happy to be there.
    Erin is hanging on every word the professor says. The class is studying The Odyssey . I have read it before, but the points and inferences the class is discussing shocks me. I learned amazing things in just the short time we had been there.
    Vito is playing a game on his phone, not caring at all about the discussion. The girl sitting in the row in front of us keeps turning around. She is trying to be nonchalant about watching Vito. He doesn’t even notice. Troy nudges me.
    “More muscle than brain,” he says, gesturing to Vito.
    “I heard that, chooch ,” Vito whispers, never moving his eyes from his game. “Tonio is on his way back,” he adds.
    My heart does a little fluttery thing at Vito’s words. Awesome! I can’t wait to tell him about our day.
    The professor dismisses the class, and Vito jumps up ready to bolt. But he has to wait for us, obviously, so he’s getting antsy.
    “Come on. I’m starving,” he says.
    “There’s a great little sandwich shop on the main Green,” a sweet voice says. It’s the girl that was sitting in front of us.
    “Yeah,” Troy says. “Let’s go there. You can get Falafel.”
    “Falafel? What the fuck is that?” Vito