“I thought, I figured… well, hah, you’re going to find this fuckin’ funny,” Emilio says, forcing a laugh that sounds more like a stifled sob. Poor bastard.
"I doubt that," Enzo growls.
Emilio puts on a broad smile and extends his arms in a gesture of pride. “I did that. Broke in. Messed some stuff up. I figured it’d get you to stop fucking around and finally get with each other.”
“You what?” I exclaim in shock. Enzo doesn’t say a damn thing. I saved Davo from getting killed, but Emilio doesn’t stand a fucking chance. Plus, I’m not super motivated to prevent his death.
There’s a sudden scraping of chairs as Enzo dives at Emilio and Emilio only just manages to get around the table away from him.
“You're a fucking idiot,” Enzo seethes. “Do you know how much you frightened Mia?”
“Yeah. Sorry about that."
“Sorry about that!” Enzo thunders the words as he comes around the table once more, massive with rage. Emilio has the sense to get out of his way again. Watching two mafioso rush around after one another would be funny if there wasn’t…. ah hell, it is funny. Emilio is actually pretty nimble for a stocky guy and Enzo’s not fucking around. Davo keeps his head down, probably just glad to be out of the firing line for now.
“We've got an actual enemy to deal with,” I point out as the two circle the room. “Maybe we should worry about the cartel guy, and not how much fucking money Emilio owes me for breaking my stuff.”
“Language, Mia,” Enzo warns. “But you’re right. Emilio, you are the worst fucking matchmaker in the history of romance. I don’t have time to kick your ass now, but you’re going to pay for this later.”
“Or you could just be happy it all worked out, bada bing, bada boom,” Emilio winks at me.
"There's no ‘boom’ going on,” Enzo sighs. “So we do have a hostile actor, it's just not the idiot I work with.”
“Or the dealer you keep calling a junkie,” I point out. “You owe Davo an apology.”
Enzo’s jaw tightens. I know the notion of apologizing to Davo is a blow to his ego, but he really fucking hurt him.
“It’s cool,” Davo says. “I figured something like that would happen.”
“But you decided to put yourself on the line, did you?" Enzo puts his massive hands on the table and looms over Davo. The knuckles on his right hand are bloodied from the beating he just dished out. “And why would you do that? If you want me to believe you're not in this for Mia, what are you in it for?”
Davo swallows. “Well, uh, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know what you are, professor. You're part of the mob, right?”
Enzo doesn’t dignify the question with a response. He just keeps staring at Davo with that harsh glare, silence drawing out until Davo speaks again.
“Well, uh, I want to be, too,” Davo says, straightening up a bit. "I think it's badass. I want in.”
Enzo and Emilio exchange looks.
“Fuggedaboutit, kid," Emilio chimes in. “It’s not all pasta and hot broads.”
"You don't know what you’re asking for, boy," Enzo agrees. “Even if it were an option for pansexual Australian drug dealers to join the mafia, which it isn’t, you wouldn’t last two seconds.”
“Yeah?" Davo says. “I lasted this long, didn’t I? I brought you information. I’m useful. I'm the only one who knows Alejandro. Why can’t you give me a chance? My grandmother was Italian.”
“Fucking Christ,” Emilio curses. “Everybody with an Italian cookbook thinks they can join these days. It's not the fuckin’ Boy Scouts. You don’t get a merit badge for participation.”
“We could use him,” Enzo says thoughtfully, surprising me with his response. He stands up, deep in thought, looking at each and every one of us in turn. He could call my father right now, flood Boston with enough manpower to turn the streets red, but I get the feeling Enzo might try to handle this himself. I know he’s got something to prove, and I know he has leadership aspirations. I just don’t think he ever figured this group of unlikely souls would end up being his crew.
“He's a fuckin’ mess,” Emilio says.
“Yeah. Take him to the ER,” Enzo says. “Get him checked out. Then get him cleaned up. And get rid of the drugs. All of them."
“Uhm, if I’m going to work Alejandro, I need drugs,” Davo points out. “I’m a dealer. Can't be a dealer without drugs. People get suspicious. And really pissed off. I’ve got clients who need their stuff.”
“Since when did I sign up to be a junkie babysitter?” Emilio complains.
“You can stay here if you want, and we can have a talk about what you did to Mia's apartment," Enzo says coolly. I shiver. God, I love this guy.