Raw Bloody Power

Chapter 18

18

SKITTLES

Rio

The following evening, I’m tucked away in one of the corner booths at Papa Gino’s with Alvaro running numbers for the Garden City flip. In-house dining is unusually quiet for a Saturday, but deliveries have all three delivery boys, my baby brother included, running in and out of here like chickens with their heads cut off. I don’t miss those days.

“So far, you’re on target,” Alvaro says, scooting the calculator my way, “even with the overhaul to the pool. Just don’t go balls to the wall on the interior. Keep it minimal.”

Chortling, I swallow a mouthful of pizza and nod. He knows me too well. I tend to go for the higher end finishings in places they aren’t really needed. Cheaper handles on the cabinets and standard doorknobs aren’t going to decrease my odds. Renters don’t give a shit as long as the place isn’t a dump, and buyers will more than likely make changes to fit their style after move-in. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I think I’m gonna rent this one out anyway. It’ll make a good fam?—”

The now illuminated screen of my phone cuts me off at the sight of a random New York number. I nearly ignore the call and return my attention to my brother, but my hand reaches for it instinctually, lifting it to my ear. “Hello?”

“This is a collect call from,” Dino’s voice transmits over the automated recording as he states his name, “an inmate at the Manhattan Detention Complex. To accept this call, please remain on the line. If you do not wish to accept this call, you may hang up now.”

A long beep resounds after a few seconds and then I hear a timid, “Rio?”

“What. The fuck. Did you do?” I growl, rising from the booth without a glance in Alvaro’s direction. I’m outside on the sidewalk before the little shit answers.

That’s how fast I move.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear!” he gripes above the ruckus exploding behind him. “Well, I mean they got me with a speed trap, but the rest wasn’t mine.”

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose and begin pacing the front of the restaurant. “What are you talking about? What wasn’t yours?”

“I was hauling ass to my last delivery since we’re swamped, and when they pulled me over for going fifteen over the limit, they made me get out of the car.”

“Fifteen over the limit? Jesus Christ, Dino!” It’s no wonder he chose me as his one phone call. If I’m this worked up already, imagine what would’ve happened if he called my mom. She’d be stroking out on the kitchen floor right about now. And my father? Nevermind him. That man would leave Dino in there overnight. “You do realize that’s a felony, right? And why the fuck would they make you get out of the car? Did you give them your license and registration?”

“Yes! I gave them everything!”

Shaking my head, I expel another agitated breath. “The math ain’t mathin’, lil’ bro. Why did they ask you to get out of the car? What wasn’t yours?” He doesn’t answer, which only serves to raise my hackles more than they already are. “Dino!”

“I was smoking,” he admits, an audible gulp following. “I put it out way before they pulled me over and had the windows down, but they must’ve still smelled it. When they asked if I had more or anything else on me, I said no.”

I don’t even have to ask who gave him the weed. Leandro rarely smokes and Alvaro doesn’t smoke at all. I don’t indulge often, either, which leaves only one stupid ass who tokes like a chimney and gave our sixteen-year-old brother drugs to drive around with.

Franco.

I’m gonna kill him.

Unless, of course, he copped it from one of his friends, which is actually quite plausible. Still betting on Frankie, though.

“Did you have anything else?” I press, sidestepping a few pedestrians, my gaze trained on the cracks in the cement .

“No, I swear on mom! All I had was the roach. But they had a fucking K9, Rio, and it found a bunch of shit under the floorboard of the trunk. It’s not fucking mine! I don’t even know how it all got there!”

“What was it, Dino? What did they find?” I’m trying not to yell at him, trying to keep my cool and be the calm, supportive adult figure he needs right now, but fuck—it’s hard, especially when he keeps getting himself into shit. He’s flunking out in school, was detained at the mall a couple of weeks ago for shoplifting. A few weeks before that he got suspended for fighting and fucking the kid up. He’s had two minor speeding tickets in the last six months, on top of crashing a brand new BMW three months after he got it for his birthday. Dad has him riding around in a chop shop hooptie as punishment, but clearly, it’s not working.

“Pills.” The word comes so softly, I almost don’t hear it. “So many pills. Bags and bags of it.”

My heart tanks and drops out of my ass like a ticking time bomb. This is bad, really fucking bad. Felony-class speeding and narcotics? Bad doesn’t even cover it. This is catastrophic. Rubbing at my temples, I inhale a fortifying breath and start making a mental note of everything I need to do, everything I need to add to my already full plate to get my little brother out of this whether he’s responsible or not. “You on bail?”

“Yes.”

“I’m on my way.” I hang up before he can say another word and barrel back into the restaurant, the starting pricks of a headache building behind my eyes. I’m sweating, my gut churning .

Alvaro’s still at the table, pulling his sea foamy gaze up from his phone as I approach. “What happened? Who was that?”

I debate throwing out some bullshit answer, not wanting to worry him with baby Guerra’s whereabouts, but if anyone can help me keep this under wraps for the time being, it’s him. Leaning onto the polished wood, I glance over my shoulder to ensure Ma’s nowhere in sight and keep my tone low. “Dino got arrested.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “What the fuck!”

“Shhh!”

“What the fuck?” he says again, whispering-hissing this time.

I nod and shake my head at the same damn time ‘cause this is an absolute shit show and the last thing any of us needed right now. “He’s on bail. I’m gonna go to grab him. You coming with?”

Alvaro peers around me, probably on the lookout for mom. “Nah, I’ll stay here and keep an eye on shit. Should I tell Leo so he knows not to expect D running deliveries for the rest of the night?”

The less people that know, the better, but… “Tell him to keep his mouth shut while you’re at it, and do not tell Franco. I have a few choice words for him tomorrow.” A swift kick to the ass, too.

Maybe a fist to his front teeth.

“What did he do?”

I fill Alvaro in on everything our little brother shared during the call and then make a quick slip out the delivery door to race home. Traffic’s light, thank fuck, and within ten minutes, I’m pulling the Ducati into the parking garage of my building. It’s a new-build, only four years old, and sits across the street from Central Park. The sleek, mirror-lined elevator shoots me up to the penthouse without making a single stop, allowing me to run in, drop off my helmet, swap keys, grab cash from the safe, and hustle back down to the parking garage for the Yukon.

A very long two hours and ten grand in cash bail later, Dino’s in my front seat, his gaze trained out the window as I drive him home. Kendrick Lamar leaks from the speakers at a low volume, sparing us from sitting in dead silence for the somewhat lengthy drive.

There’s no avoiding the tension, though.

It’s stifling.

I might’ve been the safer person to call, but he knows he screwed up and he knows he’s in for it—whether it be from me or Ma. Or worse…Dad. I know I have to say something, but I’m at a loss, still mulling over my speech, tasting my words and choosing them carefully before I spit them out and say something I don’t mean out of anger.

Another few minutes go by before I finally go for it.

“I need you to be honest with me, D.” His head swivels my way at the inevitable, long-awaited start to this conversation. “Were the pills yours?”

He opens his mouth, two seconds away from going on the defense, until he notes the ‘don’t start your shit with me’ look on my face. Taking a moment to rein in his temper, he falls back into his seat and sighs. “No, I told you. I wouldn’t even know where to get pills, much less in that quantity.”

Don’t start your shit with me evolves into don’t give me that shit, my lips curled and all. The kid might not be old enough to be in on the family business, but he’s no stranger to what we do and how deep it all goes. He’s been itching for dad to pull him from Papa Gino’s.

At the rate he’s going, that’s never gonna happen.

“Oh. Oh. NO.” He picks up what I’m putting down, green eyes widening as he shakes his head. “It’s not the family’s shit; I swear to God. I would never do something like that.”

“Where’d you get the weed then?” I press, flipping on my blinker to quickly switch lanes. I’ve been stuck behind “Baby on Board” for the last five minutes, and I’m about to lose it. Apologies to your baby, lady, but get off the highway if you’re gonna go under the limit.

Dino falls mute again at the question, which must, apparently, be a loaded one. I steal a glance at him, waiting and waiting… After a minute, my patience has reached its end.

“Dino! Answer the question!”

“Frankie. I got it from Frankie, okay?” he blurts out.

I should’ve played the lotto. “Fucking Franco,” I mutter, death-gripping the steering wheel as visions of me shoving handfuls of weed buds down his throat flood to the forefront. “I’m gonna kick his ass the next time I see him.”

“Why? Wouldn’t you prefer that I smoke with our brother rather than buy it off my friends and be running the streets with it? ”

“It’s not about you smoking. As long as you’re being responsible, I don’t give a shit about that. Although Ma will feel differently, so take that with a grain of salt. Am I glad Franco’s your go-to? Yes. What I’m pissed about is the fact he was stupid enough to give you anything to drive around with. Fucking kid doesn’t have two damn brain cells to rub together sometimes, I swear.”

How he made it through high school is beyond me.

“In his defense, he didn’t know I was leaving with it. I’m pretty sure he thought I was going out back to hit it a few times before heading on another delivery. And I was, originally, but the queue picked up and I knew Leo was gonna get on my case if I didn’t haul ass out of there, so I stuck it behind my ear and left. I didn’t even remember it was on me until I was on the way to the third delivery.”

“This is what I’m talking about, D. You can’t just forget,” I argue, easing over to the right as the exit for Scarsdale comes into view. “If you consider yourself old enough to be doing this shit, then you need to be responsible about it. You’ve gotten yourself into too much crap lately to be getting pulled over with weed on your person. Mom’s gonna flip her lid, you do realize that, right?”

Dino groans in pure dread and rubs a hand down his face. “Please don’t tell her about this. Please.”

As I ease the Yukon to a stop at the red light, I peer over at him like he’s lost his goddamn mind. The sound that blasts out of my throat is akin to that of a cackle. “You’re kidding, right?”

“She doesn’t need to know. Neither does Dad.”

“I hate to break it to you, lil’ bro, but you can’t hide this from them. Court papers are gonna come in the mail, you’re gonna need to meet with a lawyer. Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to this, but with everything on your record already, you might have to serve time if they find you guilty.”

“But how can they find me guilty if it wasn’t mine!” he protests. “How would they even prove that? I’m telling you, I don’t know how it all got there. It’s like it magically spawned in my trunk ove…”

My brother’s still going a mile per minute, but the words fade out as a light bulb goes off in my head. Actually feels as though someone threw an ice-cold bucket of water at my face…

Ivory stills then, head tilting to one side in what I can only describe as curiously. The dark tresses of her ponytail spill over her shoulder. “I see what this is now…” Stare narrowing, a sinister smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “You’re afraid.”

“Afraid?” I scoff a laugh. “Afraid of what?”

“The possibility that two of your enemies are working together.”

How had I not put two and two together before?

I almost ram into the car in the adjacent lane, a long-pressed, angry honk swerving me back into reality and refocusing my attention on the road. Dino’s going off beside me, too. I don’t hear him.

Koshka.

Ivory.

It’s so obvious now.

My brother’s no angel, but I believe him. Why would he stuff pills under the floorboard of his trunk? Why would he even need such a large quantity to begin with? I know these new gen kids are quicker to try shit and experiment, but something tells me they’re not popping pills like Skittles.

No, this is retaliation, and the fact that they brought my little brother into it, means a whole new level of hell is about to touchdown.

Fucking with me in one thing.

Fucking with a kid…

No.

Especially when that kid is my little brother.