The shock at that announcement must have shown on his face, because both brothers started laughing and Rocco poured beer into a mug and pushed it across the table to Ford. And here he thought he’d been the only one purposefully playing like shit. Now this put the Luca brothers in a different light—one that seemed all too familiar. The Hartigans were competitive, loud, and stubborn, but they always looked out for each other, even if that meant pretending that Felicia’s banana bread was edible.
“She’s our sister,” Paul said. “But she sucks at bowling.”
“So, you roll gutters once a month?” Was it wrong that he wanted them to say no, to stay in the total-asshole-criminal lane and not the older-brothers-determined-to-put-a-smile-on-their-sister’s-face lane?
“It actually helps on league night,” Paul said with a shrug. “It takes more control than you’d think to miss.”
Giving into that brother solidarity bond, Ford raised his glass in a toast. “Now, I can believe that about playing on league night.”
Rocco and Paul clinked their glasses against his. How often had he seen similar behavior between one Hartigan sibling or another? A million would be on the low count. They loved Gina, and there was no doubting how she felt about her brothers. So for an instant he put away his badge.
“Since you guys gave me a warning,” Ford said. “Now it’s my turn to give you one.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Rocco asked.
“She’d be brokenhearted if you two got caught up in something that’s way above your pay grade.” Ford shot a hard look at the brothers, hoping like hell they’d understand his veiled words. “Life in your line of business always ends up in one of two ways: jail or an unmarked grave. I’d hate for her to spend decades wondering if your bodies would ever be recovered. Why don’t you guys spend this Friday looking for a new line of business and make your sister happy.”
Rocco and Paul didn’t flinch. They just continued to look at him with that dead, mile-long stare that those connected with the Espositos had mastered. It gave nothing away. Then, as if they were mirror images, they each grabbed their beer mugs and downed the contents in one long swallow. Then, they turned without a word and watched Gina’s bowling ball swerve down the alley before ending up in the gutter just shy of the pins.
After that, they went through the lineup with each of them rolling total crap until it was Gina’s turn again. If she knew they were letting her win, she didn’t let on. She just wiggled that perfect ass of hers, smiled as if she didn’t have a care in the world, and had the time of her life—which was way better to observe than Ford had imagined.
“They’ll never find your body, you know,” Rocco said, falling back into his mob-connected loan shark persona.
Ford puffed out his chest and scowled at the brothers. “Excuse me?”
“Fuck with Gina…” Rocco paused as he turned to look at Ford straight-on and laid his meaty forearms on the table, then leaned forward on them. “And they’ll never find you. It doesn’t matter where we are at the time, we’ll come back and hunt you down.”
Out of all of that, there was only one thing Ford needed to address. “I’m not fucking with her.”
One of Paul’s eyebrows went up. “You’re going with that, instead of the fact that we just threatened a police officer?”
“Yeah.” Why that put a radioactive turn in the pit of his stomach, he had no idea. They were just playing it for the moment, nothing more.
“Why?” Rocco asked.
“What does it matter?” Defensive? Him? Yeah, he sure the hell was.
Rocco sat back in his chair, his face settled into a you-owe-us-five-Gs glower. “She likes you.”
“Yeah.” Ford took a gulp of beer.
“You like her?” Paul asked.
He downed another drink but refused to think about his answer before the truth came out. “Yeah.”
The Luca brothers turned to each other. Something passed between them, one of those silent conversations a person could only have with someone they’d known forever. Finally, Paul shrugged and Rocco shook his head.