“I love you, too. At least let me help you set up your apartment?” I take another bite, this one of the collard greens. The only person I know who can make them better than my mom is back in New York. Tanya, an older lady in my building, makes the absolute best. I hated leaving her behind, but she was set in her ways. No matter how much I attempted to sway her to moving to Texas with me, she wasn’t having it. I understood it even if it does break my heart that she’s far away. We talk, but when I say she’s older, I mean she’s nearing ninety, and I know there will come a time when one of her children will call to let me know the inevitable happened.
“Hmm, if you really want to help, the kitchen is where you would be the most helpful.” I make a joke out of it because whoever likes to unpack a kitchen and organize it is cuckoo for cocoa puffs crazy.
“Ungrateful brat you are.” We all laugh knowing she’s joking. The way the story is told, it was me and my mom, alone and doing it on her own, working as hard as she could until my father came along, falling completely and totally in love with both of us. My dad never treated me differently even after Jackson was born. You’d have never known that his blood didn’t run through my veins in any way, shape, or form.
“You love it, Sadie. When are you wantin’ to move in? Everythin’ is still packed, and we won’t need a U-Haul this time, not with all the brothers and their trucks here.” I’d never have this help at the drop of hat back in New York, so while I was busy chasing my dreams, afraid I was missing out on so much, I’m grateful for the growth it provided, and even though I hate that my body tried to sabotage itself, I’m thankful, too, since it brought me home.
“This weekend, if that’s possible, or really whenever. I’m getting the electric and water turned on tomorrow. And if you have time this week, maybe we can go to the used car lot?” I sold my car before moving away from home. A vehicle in the city wasn’t a necessity, and there was no reason to leave my car sitting in a garage back here.
“I’ve got nothin’ goin’ on this week. We’ll go out and look tomorrow. Not at that used car lot. Don’t even argue with me. You’ll lose. You know it, your mom knows it, just deal with it.” I roll my eyes. There’s no changing his mind.
“Fine.” There’s no room for any type of discussion when Dad says it like it is. We all tuck back into our food. I eat half of my plate before pushing it away. The taste sucks, and I know I’ll be going after Cheez-Its and dipping them in cream cheese later on, the one food group that’s gotten me through this entire process. Thankfully, no one says anything, and I know for a fact it’s Dad who keeps me stocked up on what I love. Maybe moving out on my own isn’t the smartest thing to do after all.
CHAPTER 6
MASSIMO
“How much is this going to set us back?” I ask Marco once we walk into the warehouse. I’m looking at crates that were supposed to be filled with AK-47s, semi-automatic guns, ammo, and a few other things that our neighbors to the south were in the market for.
“Two million, and that’s with doing a rush order for the boy at the border.” I rock back on my heels, hands in my pockets, and swear to God if Lorenzo were here in front of me, he’d have a bullet between his eyes.
“Make it happen. I’ll make a call back home. This won’t go unpunished, not this time.” I don’t care if his father and my father go way back. If my papa were still the boss, let’s just say Lorenzo would be cut up piece by piece. A long torturous death would be the way he’d die.
“Will do.” I walk away. Since I’m at the warehouse, I may as well head to the back of the building where there’s an office of sorts and get some other work done, then maybe by the time Dante gets home, I’ll be there. What Hilda said has been on mind all morning. She’s right, and I can’t help but think that things would be better had I married when I was younger. My parents pushed for me to marry a nice Italian girl, but all of them were mute, scared senseless, or only saw money symbols when they looked at me. I’d rather be fucking alone than miserable for the rest of my life.