The Game Changer Read online

  He looked back at me, opened his mouth, but didn’t say a word.

  I turned away, walked to the bathroom and washed my hands. After a moment of wondering just what in the fuck I was supposed to be doing, it dawned on me to check my phone. Sal had no way to communicate his—or the boss’s—decision to me without Gino knowing, other than texting me.

  I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket, swept my thumb across the screen, and opened Sal’s text message.

  I read the lengthy message. Re-read it, and then exhaled a deep sigh.

  Time to make your bones, Cap.

  * * *

  When I sat down at the table, Gino and Sal were arguing. Gino, obviously nervous about his future on this earth—and with the family—was pleading for what I was sure he believed to be his life.

  “I ain’t getting in the fuckin’ car, Sal.”

  “Be a fuckin’ man, Gino. I told you what the boss said. You’re driving your car to the bus station. Then, you’re taking a ride with us and we’ll see if we can fix this.”

  “I’ll follow you to the boss’s house. It’s the best I can do.”

  “I told you what he said. You’re taking your car to the fuckin’ bus station,” Sal said. “It’s the only way we can get the feds to stop fuckin’ with you. If they think you’re gone, they won’t look at the boss for whackin’ ya. If you just disappear, they’ll come for the boss. You made this mess, Gino. Now it’s time to make it right.”

  “Sal, I’ve been with the family my whole fuckin’ life.” He shrugged. “Have the boss come here, I’m fuckin’ begging ya, Sal.”

  Sal pulled his phone from his pocket, and held it at arm’s length. “You call him and tell him you don’t want to do what he’s asking you to. Tell him you got a better idea, Gino. Tell him you think he’s fuckin’ stupid.”

  Gino shook his head.

  “Then you’re getting in the fucking car.”

  “So you can whack me?”

  “I ain’t gonna fuckin’ whack you. The boss wants to talk. You’re going to tell him what happened, just like you told us. But first, you’re going to call your wife.”

  “Swear on your mother’s life that you ain’t gonna whack me.”

  “Vaffanculo!” Sal snapped back.

  “I ain’t getting in the car.”

  “You’re one to ask me to swear, you rat son of a bitch.” Sal shook his head. “I swear on the life of my mother, God bless her soul, I ain’t gonna whack you. And neither is he.”

  Gino looked at me.

  I looked at Sal.

  Sal shrugged.

  “I don’t have a mother,” I said. “So, all I can do is tell you it’s a good damned thing the decision isn’t mine to make, because if it was, I’d whack your ass right now. But I answer to Sal, and Sal says it’s not going to happen.”

  Gino looked at Sal. “I’ll ride in the back. I ain’t getting up front and getting one in the back of the head.”

  “I don’t give a fuck where you sit,” Sal said. “But you’re doing what I told you first. Call your wife and tell her what the boss told you to tell her. It’s the only way this is going to work.”

  “How long am I gonna be gone?”

  “For fuckin’ ever, you rat bastard,” Sal snapped back. “You’re lucky he’s not having us whack you.”

  Gino pulled out his phone. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “You ain’t going anywhere,” Sal said. “You’ll talk to her right fuckin’ here, so I can hear what you say.”

  Gino sighed, dialed a number and waited. After a few seconds, he began his explanation.

  “I won’t be,” he said. “No, listen. Damn it, Angelica, listen to me. I’ve got to leave town for a while... Because I do... Yeah... No... I don’t know, but I’ll be gone for a while. This is... Just listen... No, it’s not about any of that... Because I’ve fuckin’ gotta, that’s why... Yeah. It’s best for all of us. I’ll get somewhere, and then I’ll get in touch as soon as I can... I will. I love you... I said I will, so I will.”

  He put the phone in his jacket pocket.

  “Call the kid,” Sal said. “Just like I fuckin’ told ya. Or those rat fuckin’ feds will be crawling all over the place looking for ya.”

  Gino pulled out his phone and made another call.

  “Nothing... No... Listen, you little fuck. I told you already... No, you listen. I’m going to be gone for a while, I’ve got some family problems I’ve got to take care of... No, it’s none of your goddamned business. I’ll be in touch in a few weeks... Fuck ‘em. Tell ’em I’m fuckin’ busy. I’ll be in touch.”

  He hung up and then looked at Sal. “Satisfied?”

  “We’ll follow you,” Sal said.

  * * *

  We pulled up beside Gino’s car and parked.

  He got out, walked into the bus station, and after a few minutes, returned.

  He opened the door, got in and sat down behind me.

  “Show me the ticket,” Sal said.

  “I got one to Philly.”

  “Use your credit card?”

  “Yeah, I used my fuckin’ card.”

  “Show it to me.”

  Gino pulled out the ticket and handed it to Sal. After a moment, Sal tossed it in the back seat.

  As we pulled away, I pushed the send button on a pre-typed text message.

  Troost and Admiral. 3 minutes.

  “Where’s my dog?” I asked.

  “It was the kid’s idea,” Gino said.

  “You’ve said that two or three times,” I said over my shoulder. “I want the fucking dog.”

  “Kid wanted to use it for ransom,” he said. “It was his dumb fuckin’ idea, not mine. I swear to ya. He wanted to use the dog to try and get you out of the house so we could get the teeth, but then you gave ’em to the boss.”

  “I need to get that dog back,” I said.

  Gino cleared his throat. “Dog’s in the river. Kid killed it. Collar was in my trash, just like I told Sal, went out to the curb this morning.”

  I clenched my teeth and stared straight ahead. The thought of someone killing a dog for any reason didn’t sit well with me. It wasn’t worth me causing an argument, though; I needed Gino to sit still for just a few more minutes.

  Sal got into the left lane, and then rolled to a stop at the traffic light.

  I peered through the windshield and looked up at the street sign.

  Admiral.

  I leaned forward slightly.

  Sal glanced to the right, nodded and released the brake. As we pulled through the intersection, Cap’s truck rolled alongside us.

  My muscles tensed at the sound of the window shattering.

  Immediately following, the distinct sound of the silenced pistol being fired again caused me to wince. I glanced over my shoulder. Gino’s lifeless body was slumped in the seat. I glanced to my right.

  Cap turned the corner and sped away.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Terra

  We were supposed to be looking at wedding dresses, but we hadn’t even made it out of the house yet. Michelle arrived with exciting news, and drinking wine seemed to be a much better idea.

  At least until Michael and Cap came home.

  “Telling her went really well,” Michelle said. “She was actually pretty excited about it all.”

  “Did you tell her everything?”

  “Not everything. But yeah, pretty much. I told her I’d been seeing him for a while.”

  “And she didn’t flip out?”

  “Not at all. She asked me a lot about him, and I told her he was in the Marines. She said, ‘Oh wow, what does he do now?’ I lied. I told her he was working part-time training rebel soldiers to fight ISIS.”r />
  I laughed out loud. “Where the hell did that come from?”

  “I have no idea.” She took a drink of wine. “It just came out.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Nothing, really.”

  “She didn’t ask any more questions?”

  “Oh, yeah. She asked a lot of questions. How tall he was. What his parents did. I didn’t tell her about his dad and all, I just said I wasn’t sure, and that they lived, like, two hundred miles away. She wanted to know if he was nice, and I said he was. I told her we watched TV a lot, and she said she wished her and Dad did, but they didn’t. Oh, and she wanted to see a picture of him, so I showed her one.”

  “And?”

  “She said he was ‘cute.’ I was like, ‘Mom, he’s not cute, he’s hot.’ And she said, ‘What’s the difference?’ I told her cute was like Justin Bieber and hot was Bradley Cooper. She had no idea who either of them were, but then I showed her pictures. She recognized Bradley Cooper, but she said Bieber looked like a girl.”

  “That’s hilarious.”

  “I thought so, too. She asked me if it was serious or just a fling. That’s what she called it. A fling. Like I was a slut, or something. I was like, ‘Mother, really?’”

  “But you told her it was serious?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Still haven’t told your dad, though?”

  “No, he wasn’t home, which is another thing. They’d been in a fight, and she was still mad at him. I stayed and we talked for, like, three hours.”

  “A fight about what?” I asked.

  “He called her and said he had to leave town for a while. He wouldn’t tell her where, or why, just that he had to go out of town. She was pretty upset. When she told me, she started crying.”

  “That’s weird. He just left?”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  “But he didn’t say anything about why? Or that something happened, or if there was an emergency?”

  “No. You haven’t heard anything, have you?”

  “I never hear anything, you know that.”

  “She said he acted like it was something that just came up, and he had to go. She hasn’t heard from him since.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Not a word.”

  “That’s strange.”

  It seemed strange, but no differently than Peter being in Argentina, a person never really knew if what they were being told was even remotely close to the truth.

  “I know,” she said. “I’d just like to know what’s going on. My mom does, too.”

  “Michael hasn’t said anything about ever seeing him, but he never says anything anyway. I don’t even know if he knows who your dad is. I mean, unless your dad told him or something. I can ask him if you want me to.”

  “You can if you want.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll ask. So, are you going to introduce him to your mom?”

  “I don’t know. I want to, but I hate to keep it from my dad. If she meets him, then he doesn’t meet him for a while, and he finds out about her already knowing him, he’ll flip out.”

  “Yeah. Probably be best if you wait.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. But I’m pretty excited about it. She said she didn’t think he’d be mad at all. I hope not.”

  “I guess whenever he gets home, you’ll find out.”

  “Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Whenever that is.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Michael

  “It’s nice they let us in here before they opened.” I leaned over the edge of the deck and gazed out into the vineyards. “I like it a lot.”

  “Enough to have our reception here?” Terra asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “I think it’s pretty,” she said. “I didn’t even know we had a winery this close.”

  “I didn’t, either. And it’s so peaceful.”

  “Isn’t it pretty?”

  “It’s like being somewhere else. This is what I expected Montana or Wyoming to look like, really. Not Kansas.”

  “Their menu looks really good, too.”

  “It does.”

  The fact that we were going to be married was finally sinking in. It seemed since we returned from Belize that it had been one clusterfuck after another, leaving me no time to enjoy spending time with Terra.

  The only remaining loose end was the informant, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to get any additional information about the family’s inner workings without Gino. I found not knowing who he was to be troubling, but not so much that it kept me from living life.

  She leaned over the handrail and wedged her way into my line of sight. “So...”

  I smiled. “Let’s do it.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

  “I don’t know why not.”

  “It’s just...”

  “You hate making decisions. So, I’ll make it for you. Let’s have it here.”

  “I love this place.” She drew a deep breath and then smiled. “This is so exciting.”

  Fifteen miles away from the city, the winery sat atop a hill overlooking the vineyards, which were half a mile deep and just as wide. Beyond the winding rows of symmetrically placed grapevines, trees surrounded the establishment, making it appear even more secluded than it was.

  A breathtaking one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view was available from the second-floor deck, which was where we were standing. Weather permitting, all of our guests would be able to enjoy the scenery while they ate and danced until the wee hours of the morning.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “Now that I’ve seen it, I can’t imagine having it anywhere else.”

  “So it’s settled?” she asked.

  “As far as I’m concerned.”

  She smiled. “It’s settled, then.”

  “So, we’ve got invitations and our reception decided. What’s left?”

  “Oh God,” she said. “This is only the beginning.”

  “What else is there?”

  “Well, we have to choose our colors for the wedding. You know, for tuxedos and dresses. And then the colors for the floral arrangements. We’ve got to pick those out, too. Then, what types of flowers we want. We’ve got to pick out a DJ for the music. We need to decide who’s going to make the cake. Then, what kind of cake. And the rehearsal dinner. We need to decide where that’s going to be.”

  “Holy shit.”

  She sighed. “It’s stressful.”

  I sat down at one of the tables. “I had no idea there was so much shit to decide.”

  “It’s not shit.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “There’s just a lot of stuff. I thought it was easier than this.”

  Her hair was twisted into a messy little bun, which allowed me an unobstructed view of her face. I admired her as she sat down beside me and crossed her legs.

  “I want it to be perfect.” She let out a sigh. “It’s the only time we’re going to get to do this.”

  “I want it to be perfect, too.” I reached for her hand and cupped in mine. “And we haven’t spoken about it yet, but I want you to know that money’s not going to be an issue. Whatever you want, we’ll get.”

  She smiled. “Um. My parents pay for everything.”

  I cleared my throat and returned a playful glare. “No, they’re not.”

  “Yes, they do. It’s—”

  “Not for my wedding, they’re not.”

  “It’s tradition.”

  “Whose tradition?”

  “It’s wedding tradition. Wedding etiquette, or whatever. The bride’s parents pay for everything except the rehearsal dinner.”

  “Seriously?”


  She chuckled. “Seriously. It’s just how it’s done.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “But my father said the same thing. He said he wanted it to be whatever we wanted it to be, and not to worry about the cost. I thought it was nice.”

  “That’s nice of him.”

  She reached into her purse, pulled out her pink book and a pen.

  “Flowers?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “It’s simple, but I like the white ranunculus with larkspur. Not just a few, but the vase just stuffed full. It looks like a big flower marshmallow.”

  “I wouldn’t know a ranunculus if it ran across the street in front of me.”

  She goofed with her phone for a minute, and then handed it to me. An arrangement of fluffy white flowers with purple-flowered decorative sprigs was on the screen. After admiring it for a moment, I handed her the phone.

  “I like it.”

  “Like it or love it?”

  “As far as I’m concerned, it’s perfect. I like simple.”

  “You think it’s too simple? Boring?”

  “No. I like it.” I extended my index finger. “Let me rephrase that. I really don’t care what else you show me, I’ll always go back to that picture and compare everything to it.”

  “Me, too. I love it.” She smiled and reached for the pen. “It’s perfect.”

  “Decision’s made. Write it down.”

  She wrote in the book, and then looked up. “What color tuxedos were you thinking?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it, but I think a traditional black tux looks better than anything. It’s classy. The blues and whites don’t do it for me.”

  “I think black is good. It’d make my father happy,” she said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Can you imagine if they were powder blue? He’d have something to say about that for sure,” she said with a laugh.

  “We can look at black options, but I think that’s what I’d like.”

  “Okay. Have you thought about who’s going to be your best man, and who’s going to stand up with you?”

  “We’ve got to have the same amount, right?”