The Enforcer (Untamed Hearts Book 3) (19 page)

He tried with most of the stuff, mainly because he didn’t trust Nova not to make him look
too
smart, but focusing in this office, with everyone coming in and out, was almost impossible.

He asked for more help than he should, and it was probably a mistake.

The last thing Tino needed was to get stuck in advanced calculus or some shit like that. Just because Nova had bargained Tino’s way into finishing high school didn’t mean he wanted to take his place in the math club.

This test was huge.

When they were finally done and walking to the parking lot, Tino asked, “Did you flake on your test?”

“Yeah, I flaked on it.” Nova shrugged. “It’s just easier. She was nagging me. If I did too well, she’d really bitch about college. Every brick in that place was put in with Cosa Nostra money. You’d think she’d be a little more aware of my situation.”

“Hey, guineas!”

Tino and Nova stopped in the parking lot for several long heartbeats.

“What is it with the
guinea
thing?” Tino asked his brother without turning around, because he knew it was the blond from the office. “What is their fucking hang-up?”

“I don’t know, but I’m about over it. These bitches are gonna make me lose my temper,” Nova growled when they started walking again. “I’m having a bad fucking month.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for your bad month, Casanova.” Tino snorted. “That must be really painful for you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m about to scratch my skin off. My back itches so fucking bad. Can I smoke in the car?”

“Yeah, sure.” Nova pulled the keys to Romeo’s ’78 Camaro out of his pocket. “Maybe we’ll get arrested.”

“That worked out really well for Romeo.”

“Good point.” Nova opened the door and tossed the admission folders from the school on the dash. “Get in before I beat these fuckers following us.”

“Did you hear me?” the big blond called out again.

“What is your problem?” Tino asked, because really, he couldn’t believe their persistence. “Don’t you have something else to fucking do with your last week of summer?”

“We don’t like ghetto trash in our school. You think any real mafiosi wants to see you here? You think any of us wants to look at you and know where you came from?”

“We would love to take our bastardi, guinea asses back to East Harlem.” Tino turned around on his crutches and glared at the two blond, preppy Italians when they came up to the car. “Lemme know how you can hook us up with that, since you’re so fucking special.”

“Simple. Pack up your shit and go back to the hood rat bitch of a mother you left in the gutter. No one wants you here.”

“What did you say?” Nova’s voice was low and threatening as he took a step forward. “’Cause it sounded like you just called my dead mother a
hood rat bitch
.”

They both seemed to pause at that, because the violence pulsing off Nova was tangible. Nova did have a hard month, and he hadn’t exactly had an outlet for the anger. Tino and Nova hadn’t been to the dojo since Romeo got arrested, when usually they were there most every day after school.

Tino wasn’t really surprised by the sucker punch.

Nova seemed to be favoring those lately. Just flat-out trying to kill a motherfucker. This time he slammed his fist into the nose of the one with a mouth, and the splatter of blood was impressive. His friend tried to jump at Nova, but Tino used his crutch as a makeshift bo staff.

He didn’t feel too guilty when the guy crashed to the asphalt.

Then Tino stood there on his crutches, watching his brother work off a shitty month’s worth of anger until the school officials came running out to break up the fight.

Tino expected them to call the cops, because this wasn’t a playful fistfight. It was a bloody, dirty one, like the gangster street fights back home, and it had been painfully one-sided.

Nova had been heavily involved in martial arts since he was five.

These assholes had no chance.

And he was old enough to get into some serious shit for it.

Hell, Romeo was up for attempted murder for using his martial-arts skills to defend himself.

The school just called everyone’s parents instead.

Except Frankie couldn’t be fucked with the problem. So his pop showed up and cleaned up the mess for him, which Tino was starting to suspect was pretty typical.

“What is the problem? Why am I even here?” Aldo Moretti’s voice echoed through the office. “They insulted his dead mother. Why is everyone so friggin’ shocked he took it personal?”

Nova just sat in the chair in the corner, completely unscathed, running his fingers through his hair. His leg was bouncing, making it obvious the fight still had adrenaline pumping through his system.

Tino sat next to him and looked across the office to see the two boys with the guinea issue glaring at them. Both were holding nurse-provided ice packs to their faces. Tino was pretty sure the one with the mouth had a broken nose, and his cousin didn’t look too great either after he bit it on the asphalt.

After the administrators called their parents, Tino learned these two were from the Brambino family. The blond with the mouth was Dominic Brambino, and his father was don of the entire Brambino Borgata, which was probably why Dominic was such an entitled prick. His cousin was Andrew Brambino, whose father just sat in the corner next to his son and let the two dons have it out.

Tino didn’t blame him. It was sort of awe-inspiring to watch, like having front-row tickets to a heavyweight boxing match.

Don Aldo Moretti was a big man. Like Frankie and Carlo, he was thick and muscular. He was still very fit despite being in his midfifties. His inky-black hair was neatly styled and pushed away from his face, with silver at his temples. Sicilian tan, with dark eyes, he wore a designer suit like he was made to wear one, and there was something about him that seemed a little bigger and a lot more powerful than the other don, who was considerably younger and smaller.

Don Brambino didn’t have the same dark-pope aura that Aldo Moretti did, and it wasn’t just that blond-haired, preppy Italian look to him. It was something else that was lacking, something unnamable that gave a man power, but he had obviously learned not to back down or show weakness in the face of someone more intimidating than him.

“These two don’t belong in school with our kids. We all know where they came from. If he wants to mix them into his Borgata, that’s his issue. It’s not the first time, but why do the rest of us have to put up with them?” Don Brambino said to Father John, the principal. “Why are they here, Father? Are they even Catholic?”

“These are my boys.” Don Moretti tapped Father John’s desk with his finger. “They’re my blood. They’re Catholic, and they belong here. I invested five hundred thousand dollars in this school that says they fucking belong here,” he growled furiously and then held up his hand in apology. “If you’ll excuse me, Father. But come on, this is an insult.”

“They just attacked my son for no reason and—”

“Whoa, hold on.” Don Moretti turned on the other don like an angry bear. “Lemme tell you something. If you called my dead mother a hood rat bitch, I’d break your friggin’ nose in a New York minute. The problem is your boys didn’t have the stugots to back up their mouths. That’s
your issue
. If you’re raising a son who can’t defend himself, maybe you oughta teach him how to keep his mouth shut. Did I hear Tino say he called my boys guineas? Where are they learning that shit, Carmine? Does your family have a problem with guineas?” He turned to Dominic and Andrew, who physically shrank back. “I’m Siciliano. I’m dark. You wanna call me a guinea?” When both boys shook their heads, Don Moretti turned back to his rival and arched an eyebrow, as if daring him to do what his son wouldn’t. Then he looked to Father John behind the desk and held up his hands. “I still don’t understand what the fucking problem is. If you’ll forgive me, Father, but I just don’t get it.”

“We don’t attack other students when we have an issue,” Father John said evenly, as if he was accustomed to dealing with this type of problem. “The problem is the violence.”

“So it’s okay to insult them? To insult their dead mother? The woman isn’t even cold in her grave. He called Tino a succhiacazzi. For someone who has such a problem with Sicilians, it sounds like your boy’s looking for a tan boyfriend. Forgive me, Father, I don’t wanna say anything bad about the Brambinos, but we all know—”

“Okay,” Don Brambino cut him off.

“I dunno what this boy is seeing at home or—”

“We’ll give him a pass.” Don Brambino sighed. “We’ll just give him a pass this time.”

“You’ll give him a pass. Are you shitting me, Carmine?” Don Moretti let out a sharp, angry laugh. “If your sister wasn’t married to Frankie, I’d start a war over that. I’m giving
your boys
a friggin’ pass.” He pointed at Dominic. “You call my grandson a succhiacazzi again, and I’m gonna take it personal. I don’t care if you’re Carina’s cousin, you’re gonna learn real fast, if you fuck with my Borgata, it’s gonna hurt. Come on.” He snapped his fingers at Tino and Nova. “We’re done.”

No one had anything else to say.

Don Moretti dropped the mic, and Tino wasn’t even exactly sure how, but he and Nova followed after him before things changed.

Aldo Moretti didn’t go places without an entourage. He was the don of the largest crime family in New York, probably in the whole friggin’ country, not that Tino was keeping tabs, but he did notice the don had a lot of henchmen.

Lead henchman in charge of protecting the don was the original Lost Boy.

“Eh!” Carlo held out his hands when Don Moretti unlocked the door to the back and opened it for Tino and Nova. “You broke that little prick’s nose?” He burst out laughing, despite the Brambinos still within hearing distance. “School hasn’t even started yet, and you’re starting shit.”

“Carlo—” the don reprimanded.

“I love this kid.” Carlo grabbed Nova and pulled him into the crook of his arm. Then he kissed the top of Nova’s head. “I friggin’ love this guy.” He messed up Nova’s hair, because he was one of the few people who could get away with it. Then he leaned down and whispered, “Lost Boys fucking fly. We fly, right? We’re better than them.”

“The Brambinos. I hate those sick cunts,” one of the other guys guarding the don said, making it obvious he didn’t really understand the Lost Boys reference. “Someone needed to break his nose. My boy Johnny says that Dominic has got a mouth on him that would make a saint wanna murder him.”

“Come on.” Don Moretti messed up Tino’s hair and then looked down at Tino’s feet and let out a barking laugh. “That cast, Tino. Jesus, it’s no wonder they’re calling you a succhiacazzi.”

“The stugots on this guy.” Carlo reached over and pushed Tino’s head. “He doesn’t care. He’s got the chops to own that cast.”

Once they got out into the parking lot, Don Moretti looked at the Camaro Nova was driving, and then turned to study Tino and Nova. “You know, the reason those
coglioni
are treating you like trash is ’cause you’re both dressed like bums. Look at this.” He gestured to Nova standing there in jeans and one of Romeo’s old shirts that hung long and loose on him. “You been going to the jail dressed like this? With my last name on the paperwork?”

“I have nicer clothes. My brother made sure we had nice stuff. We didn’t go to school looking like merda.” Nova shrugged and looked away. “I just haven’t had time to go get the rest of our stuff and—”

“Look, you’re gonna be in this family. You dress like you’re in this family, capisce?” The don leaned down and got in Nova’s face. “I don’t care where you came from. I believe a Borgata needs some hard blood; otherwise we turn out like those pussies the Brambinos, but you dress like you belong. You act like you belong.
Always.
”

“Okay,” Nova agreed, though Tino knew he really didn’t want to spend money on clothes. “I’ll take Tino shopping tomorrow.”

“That’s it?” the don asked him. “You don’t got anything else to say about it?”

“No.” Nova shook his head. “I should’ve made sure we dressed nice when we registered. I fucked up. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re supposed to say,
Hey, Don, gimme some friggin’ money if you want me to dress nice
.” The don smiled at Nova, looking amazed, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with him. “You’re fourteen years old. If you register for school looking like a bum, whose fault is that? It’s your father’s fault. That makes it my fucking fault.” He reached out and rubbed Nova’s hair affectionately. “This kid. Weight of the fucking world on his shoulders.”

“I have money,” Nova argued. “And I can make more. I just haven’t had time to work on it. I can buy the clothes.”

“I know you can. I know you would.” The don sighed. “But you don’t have to. In this family we protect each other. We take care of each other. You don’t believe it right now, and I don’t fucking blame you, but you will. I’m gonna make sure you believe it, okay?”

Nova nodded, looking like he wanted to believe it desperately. “Okay.”

“I’ll give you all the money you need. Just help your father.” The don wrapped an arm around Nova’s neck and pulled him close like he was an unexpected lifeline. “Help your fucking father. We need hard blood to stay strong. He and Carlo never got along, but you could help him. I feel it in my bones. God sent you to us for a reason. You know, the Brambinos were strong. Then the old man died and that spoiled prick took over. Now they’ve gone to shit. If your father hadn’t married Mary, they’d be done. People respect them because of us, and they don’t even fucking appreciate it.”

“Sick bastard. Can you imagine being one of those Brambino fuckers walking up to the pearly gates?” one of the soldiers behind them asked. “If I had their shit on my conscience, I’d live in a lead room.”

“What’d they do?” Tino asked, remembering something vaguely from the basement about the Brambinos. “What makes them so sick?”

“We’re not gonna talk about that.” The don turned around and glared at the soldier. “The only thing we’re gonna worry about is buying these kids some decent clothes.”

Chapter Sixteen

The don wasn’t fucking kidding about the shopping.