Remember When We Page 11

  My mouth dropped and all I could do was look at Gio who looked thoroughly impressed.

  “Kid, where’d you learn about bikes and engines?”

  “My friend Cory. His dad does the Grand Prix. When he’s not doing that he does all these adrenaline junkie stunts.”

  I couldn’t resist the smile. I hadn’t really heard Matthew talk about bikes like this, but then he wouldn’t have really spoken to me about them. He and Cory were good friends and his dad offered to take them to shows. It was good fun for him. Now I was so glad I agreed.

  “That sounds like a guy I would like.” Gio smirked.

  “He’s cool, doesn’t have a bike like yours though. And the way you took off yesterday … well I haven’t seen him do that either.” Matthew nodded.

  “Thanks.” Gio glanced at me proudly then back to Matthew. “You and I have a date with my bike later.”

  “Really! Can I ride it?”

  Gio laughed. “How about we just see how it works first? Maybe later I could take you around the block if your mom agrees.”

  “Can I Mom? Please.”

  “If you guys are safe then yes.” I answered.

  Matthew started jumping up and down. “Mom you are the best. Mr. Gio is definitely the coolest friend you have.”

  Friend …

  I felt so bad.

  “Gio, call me Gio kid. Mister, makes me sound like a teacher.”

  Matthew giggled in that seriously cute way I loved.

  It was weird having Gio here and knowing he cared about Matthew. Weird having someone else on the same level as me here in the same room. There was of course Dad, but it was different. Very different to the level of shared feelings that I was seeing for myself.

  Gio did care. I could feel it and while it was nice, it also made guilt tug hard on my heart.

  The door opened again and this time Dad came in holding the newspaper. He was looking down at it, so he didn’t see us until he lifted his head.

  I shouldn’t have felt the pull of anger as I saw him, but I did. I’d tamped down the anger over the years, because he was sick. It came rushing back on me with Gio’s presence.

  Dad’s face was the complete opposite of Matthew’s friendly one. He’d seen Gio yesterday, but what followed yesterday was a discussion of the truth. Add that to the fact Gio was standing in the kitchen with us and the picture was painted.

  In my conflicted mind yesterday, I failed to see Gio’s point of knowing he had a son.

  I may have been going through hell, and the other day Dad did tell me Gio should know about Matthew. However, the person who should have found some way to contact Gio over the years was Dad.

  He could have done it, but there was no point at all when I’d specifically said that I didn’t want him to know. At least not until the other night. I’d never voiced those opinions at all.

  Dad looked scared as he watched us, and Gio gave him every reason to be afraid with the cold hard stare he gave him.

  “Morning.” Dad said.

  “Grandpa, Gio came back.” Matthew beamed with excitement. “He’s going to show me his bike later.”

  “That’s wonderful. It’s a cool bike.”

  In the past Dad loathed Gio’s bikes. He hated the noise and thought it was dangerous.

  Gio continued to look at Dad in silence.

  I thought I’d break the tension.

  “How about I make us all a good breakfast?” I smiled trying to mask the inner turmoil that brewed inside me.

  “Breakfast then we talk,” Gio said, there was a coldness to his voice that got to me.

  I’d known this man all my life and knew when he was angry. A quick glance at him as I moved over to grab the frying pan revealed he was seething. He was seething and it didn’t help me. because that thought I’d had earlier about him finding out about the whole fucked up situation with Frankie would be exactly as I imagined.

  He’d go crazy when he found out. I’d lived in it for so long I was used to it.

  It was however time to face the music.

  * * *

  After a good breakfast of Spanish omelette and pancakes Dad, Gio and I gathered in the sitting room to talk. I allowed Matthew his PlayStation, because it felt like the kind of talk where he needed to be kept distracted.

  Gio sat near me. Dad seated himself on the sofa opposite us.

  I could feel it in my bones that he was going to say something with regards to our situation. I wasn’t all that surprised when he zeroed in on Dad and glared at him.

  “Paul, I just need to make something very clear.” Gio began. He straightened up and squared off his shoulders. “I’m not the guy I used to be, and I’m not the kind of guy that would try to impress you, because you’re Lyssa’s father. It is however the one thing that’s stopping me from killing you right now. You knew I had a son and even if Lyssa thought I shouldn’t know about him, you should have found some way to reach me.”

  To my surprise Dad nodded. “I should have, and I feel guilty for not doing so. Apologizing isn’t enough, but maybe we can move forward in some way.”

  I didn’t know how Dad could say that knowing our current situation.

  I didn’t know how we could move forward.

  “Yes, I will decide how best to move forward with my family. Thank you very much.”

  Fuck. He was serious. He was actually serious and Dad nodded.

  “Right, so there was a reason why I came back here to Philly. I won’t get into the details of you wanting me to stay away from Lyssa. I’ve crossed that bridge already.” Gio glanced at me. “I came back here, because of Marshall.”

  I’d guessed that already. Dad straightened up and his eyes widened.

  “Marshall?” He asked. “Why? Have you found anything out?”

  It was sad seeing Dad like this. Over the years as the police gave up, I saw pieces of him fade away. Dying a little every day without hope for justice.

  “I have. What I’m about to tell you is strictly confidential, so you mustn’t repeat this to anyone. It could fuck up what I’m doing.”

  I stared at him, a shiver ran down my spine. He didn’t look at me though Instead he kept his focus on Dad.

  “What is it son? Tell me please … Tell me.”

  “Marshall wasn’t killed the way we had thought he was. Yes, he was shot up, but that was after he was already dead.” Gio revealed.

  A stone dropped in the pit of my stomach.

  “What?” I gasped. It was then he looked at me.

  “He was already dead. He was poisoned. I received some intel and received the original coroner’s report. The one we originally saw a was a dud. It was conjured up to make shit look like he was in some gang war or something. My crew and I think he saw something he wasn’t supposed to see because of the intel we got. There was a note to someone warning them that he saw something important.”

  “Oh my God.” Dad cried bringing his hand to his mouth and shaking his head. A tear ran down his cheek.

  “Gio …” That was all I could say.

  He looked at me again. “I never stopped wishing I could do something to find justice. I never stopped, always trying to find a way. This is it and I’m going to solve this. I’m going to get down to the bottom of this.”

  “I can only thank you, because I wouldn’t have ever been able to find this information out.” Dad dried his tears. “Who Gio? Who do you think did this?”

  “We think there was more than one person involved. It seems too that there was some mob involvement.”

  Oh God, this just kept on getting worse with every passing second. Mob involvement, really?

  “Mob?” Dad’s voice was barely audible.

  Gio nodded. “Marshall was murdered with a poison I know that’s linked to mobsters. Intel suggests there was mob involvement and that they had something to do with it.”

  I clenched my fists and pressed down into the sofa. I couldn’t look at Dad. I just couldn’t.

  “Santora,” dad asked
and Gio tilted his head to the side—curious.

  “Yes, Santora. The Santoras.”

  Santoras like Frankie. Jesus. What should we do?

  They were linked. I didn’t know anything about the mob until Dad had gotten involved with them. Gio was right about the whole different world thing. I was from a completely different world and I wasn’t used to this.

  Knowing Frankie or some member of his family was involved in Marshall’s death fueled my rage. It took me beyond my fear and fed my anger.

  “They killed him?” I whispered.

  “They were involved, but the way mobsters get involved like that is based on who hires them to do it. So, I don’t know if they administered the poison. What I know is that I’m not pissing on them yet not until I find the other guy. That’s who we need to find, that person is the killer. He’s the person I’m after. It’s gonna be someone big who didn’t want shit on them exposed. Someone higher up that has connections with mobsters and has a relationship with them whereby they could get their hands on the poison that killed Marshall.”

  “What do you need me to do?” Dad’s voice came across the room strong and bold.

  He sounded the way he used to, completely in control.

  It made me look up.

  “Marshall went to a support group for his drug problem. I remember that you made him go. Do you still have the details?”

  “Yes. There were two of them recommended by our family doctor. I have the details, but why would the support group be involved?” Dad narrowed his gaze.

  “I need to find someone who may be linked to the group. Someone we think the note was specifically for. I think Marshall saw something he shouldn’t have, wrote the note to that person. Someone who could intervene to stop it and got caught. At least that’s what this is starting to look like. These people knew if they made his murder look like a gang war it would basically be a lost cause. Gangs are always shooting up people. People always dying, no one is responsible and those who see it are too afraid to talk.”

  This was all too much and it sounded dangerous. Now there was even more danger with the Santoras involved.

  I reached over and took his hand. It was instinct that made me do it.

  He looked at me with worried eyes.

  “Gio this is dangerous.”

  He smiled even though the worry was still there and very evident. “This is my world, Baby Doll. But it’s not me who’s in danger right now. It’s them.”

  I blinked several times.

  “It’s them. I’m just doing what’s practical by going the long way around.”

  “I’ll grab the details on the support group,” Dad said. “What else can I do?”

  “You guys just need to have a low profile. I don’t need you to do anything else. Safety, that’s what I want you to think about. Lyssa, I don’t want you at the bar.”

  “I have a stock take tomorrow. I have to do that.” I had to and honestly, keep an eye on the money.

  “Fine, do that then I’ll get someone to cover things there.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” I didn’t want him having to do anything like that.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I wasn’t asking. You do this. Spend time with your boy. Don’t worry about anything else.”

  It all sounded like a dream. I wished I could do that.

  Today I’d go pay that check in at Frankie’s office along with what I already had. All together that would be twenty grand total. It was crazy. So much money.

  It was crazy.

  Had to do it though. Then I had to figure things out.

  I had to figure out something, because I just couldn’t tell Gio what was going on.

  I couldn’t do it.

  He stood up. “I’m going to check on Matthew.”

  I nodded. I waited until he’d gone up the stairs and was out of earshot then I turned to Dad who was already looking at me.

  “Dad …”

  That was all I had to say, he shook his head. “No. You don’t tell him. This has gone on long enough. I’ll figure things out. You go with him when the time comes and leave me.”

  “Dad,” I winced. “You know what Frankie wants if we can’t pay.”

  “I do and he won’t get it no matter what. Even if he kills me.”

  Kill.

  Yes. It was exactly what Frankie would do and somehow it still wouldn’t be enough. It’s why I was doing what I was doing. It was a fucked up situation, but one that would have to involve me no matter what.

  I may have been naïve years ago, but I wasn’t stupid.

  It wouldn’t be as simple as just leaving. I knew it wouldn’t no matter how much I wanted it to be.

  Chapter 15

  Gio

  I sat on the sofa and stared at Dante as he pulled up one of Uncle Rory’s beat up chairs to sit on it backwards.

  It felt like I’d lived a lifetime over the last day and a half.

  Fucking hell when I told Dante everything I doubted he knew it was going to be all that and more. We’d moved from the kitchen to here to sit for minute while Gibbs got ready.

  I wanted to get things off my chest before we ventured out, getting back on our mission.

  “I just can’t believe you have a son.” Dante chuckled and gave me that grin.

  It was a knowing grin, the kind that said I told you so. A few months back, just after he had got married I told him I had no desire to get married or have kids. I even proclaimed to be the perpetual bachelor who’d live out the rest of his life as such.

  Now look at me. I’d been back for two hours and if I wasn’t talking about Matthew I was talking about Lyssa. A woman and a child … No, my woman and my child; mine.

  My priorities switched up days ago as I stood on Paul’s porch and looked at a kid who I knew in an instant was mine. They just switched automatically.

  “I know.” I smiled. “Dante, he’s amazing.”

  “Yes, you’ve said that five times already. I’m happy for you. Welcome to parenthood.” Dante nodded with a smirk.

  Dante had Flynn, but he wasn’t his biological son. He was Maria’s ex-husband’s son, yet Dante took him for his own, and he did it without blinking. It was his logic and the guy wasn’t scared at all.

  My woman, my kid. It had been his mantra the whole time.

  It felt the same for me.

  “You were right. You said I’d meet someone one day and shit would change. Except, I knew I’d already met her and never thought shit would change, because she was the only one I wanted a life with.”

  “Listen to you.” Dante laughed. His blue eyes actually sparkled with pride. “I’m gonna say I told you so.”

  “It’s fine man. No hard feelings. It’s a good I told you so. But fuck, fucking Paul. I wanted to kill him.” I did too. We didn’t do mindless killing, but I wanted to kill the fucker on the spot when I saw him come down for breakfast yesterday with his paper in his fucking hands.

  “Yeah, I’d be the same. So, do you think she’ll go to Chicago. It’s a lot to give up.”

  “She didn’t say no, and besides if she did I wouldn’t take it. She’ll come back with me and I’ll get her back where she should be. In a classroom teaching, doing what she had always loved. This place,” I motioned my hands around. “Was never good for her. It wasn’t good at all. She has a very good friend here and her father, but fucking hell Dante, there’s the memory of what happened to Marshall haunting this place. I assume she must feel the same as me when it comes to him. When I left, I wanted to take her with me. Before the decision came about to break up with her though I knew I’d leave and never come back. I must have searched everywhere for these supposed gangs and got nowhere. It really was a lost cause and I didn’t want to be some place where it was like I was haunted by his ghost.”

  Dante nodded understanding. “I get it bro. I really do.”

  “She’s affected it by it too in a big way. I know that, but something feels off.” Something did feel off. I just didn’t know wh
at it was, not yet.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Few things felt off Dante. You know how I hate my instincts.” I smirked. I hated my instincts, because I was the fucker who was always fucking right. I swore if my instincts told me the sun would come up pink tomorrow it would. It fucking would, no doubt about it. Great thing to boast about. In my world though being right wasn’t always a good thing. In fact, it was more often than not bad. “Paul mentioned the Santoras.”

  Dante narrowed his eyes. “Really? Okay let’s not jump the gun. They’re big here.”

  “Dante, the name Morientz is big in Chicago too, so was Rossi. They basically own the place, but ask the average person about names and they wouldn’t dish it to you. The average person might say mobsters own this, or gangsters own that. They couldn’t give you names and realistically it’s the Vitalis who’s actually in charge. Take the average person and consider them to be the curious type. They may give you the names of the people in charge, but not the other guys.” And fuck, the more I spoke the more those damn instincts of mine twitched.

  The thing that grieved me was Paul had said the name and Lyssa didn’t ask who they were or what he was talking about.

  The guys at the bar could be an obvious answer of how they knew the name Santora. I just had the impression that it was more than that. I hoped there was no more trouble than what I saw initially. As a general rule, mobsters weren’t in the habit of dropping names either where it didn’t need to be dropped. Paul’s bar wasn’t that kind of place; not at all.

  It wasn’t like the bars back home that were more like dens. You walk in and you just knew it was the kind of place you could get killed if you looked at someone the wrong way.

  “What are you saying Gio?” Dante asked.

  “I actually don’t know. I just hope Paul listens and stays the fuck out of it. I don’t need him messing things up. I need him to be the father he’s supposed to be and keep Lyssa safe. Which brings me to the other thing. She works a lot.”

  “Jesus Gio, you sure you’re not being paranoid? You’re starting to sound it. Next thing you’ll say is she checked her watch a lot. Most people work a lot.”