Page 40 of Devious Roses
“You know my name,” I say. “Which is why you’re doing this. Putting on your little show to make yourself feel better. Stay out of my way, and you won’t get hurt.”
He laughs. Loudly. Overcompensatingly. “Bold, just like a mobster! You’re right… I know who you are. Who doesn’t know the son of the city’s biggest king pin? But daddy’s not around to protect you anymore, is he?”
So that’s what this is about. Some kind of bitter feelings among criminals. Lucius probably screwed them over somehow. Now, I’m enemy number one.
But, as I’m about to let it go, my temper cooling off at the mention of Lucius, he presses more buttons. Buttons that prove I’m as hotheaded as I’ve always been.
“Yeah, I know you,” he says. “You and that annoying Black bitch you call a wife. She’s the reason I’ve even got a rap sheet—FUCK!”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. The thin leash snaps and my temper roars free. I spin around, launching myself over the table, tackling him into the floor. My fists are ready, fast on him. Blood decorates my knuckles by the second punch. I’m breaking something. Maybe his nose. Maybe some teeth. Possibly his eye socket.
Drawing back my fist, I feed off the adrenaline that surges through me, and realize somebody’s bold enough to have stepped in. My fight training and instincts come in handy, helping me sense what’s about to happen. I swerve to the left at the last second, and narrowly dodge one of his lackey’s attempt to jump me from behind.
He throws another sloppy punch at me, but I’m ready for him. I block his attempt and land a shot to his ribs.
By now, everybody’s shouting. They’re closing in with feverish gleams about them.
It’s officially true—I’ve become entertainment. This brawl is the most action most of them have probably seen all week.
“Break it up! BREAK IT UP!” bellows the first correctional officer on the scene. He’s followed by three others as they shove through the crowd and then subdue us.
I don’t protest, going slack as soon as a guard grabs hold of me. A subtle grin twists onto my lips looking at the damage I’ve singlehandedly caused.
The ringleader’s on the floor with a bloody nose. The dumb fuck who tried to jump me is doubled over and coughing.
Those two are bruised and bleeding. Meanwhile, I’m good. I’m walking off with a guard, admiring their blood on my hands.
“Not even twenty-four hours and already causing trouble, Mancino,” grunts the guard once we’re alone and far off from the commotion. He digs his fingers into my arms in an attempt to emphasize his warning. “Get into more fights like that, and it’s the Box. Minimum four days.”
He can fuck off like the others.
I don’t bother replying. I let him take me to my cell and clang shut the heavy door.
Just an hour ago I swore I wouldn’t fight. I wasn’t looking for trouble, and that’s still true.
But sometimes circumstances change. We’ve all got our weak spots.
It’s been almost twenty years that I’ve known Delphine. I didn’t let anybody disrespect her at age seventeen, and that damn sure won’t be allowed at age thirty-five.
Nobody fucks with my wife.
10
delphine
My pulse spikes in anticipation,waiting for him on the other end. A voice recording plays in my ear, informing me I’ve called in to speak to inmate 62985. There’s a click, and then Salvatore comes on the line.
At the merest sound of his voice, before he’s even said anything, I’m softening. My hands curl over my phone and I hold it closer to my face like it’ll somehow bring me closer to Salvatore.
“Jon,” I say. “I miss you so much.”
“I miss you too, Phi. Have you been behaving yourself?”
“That sounds more like a question I should be asking you. Youarethe one locked up behind bars.”
His normally low rasp, a sound that’s like warm smoke to my ears, takes on a playful quality. “But we all know how you’re a bad girl. Especially when I’m not around.”
“Jon,” I scold. My cheeks warm and my mindalmostgoes to naughtier places. “Please help me sleep tonight and tell me you’re okay. Tell me everything. We have ten minutes. Actually, nine now.”