The Venetian and the Rum Runner - L.A. Witt Page 0,53
tucked it into a compartment beneath the bar. “Thought he was gonna wet himself when you went at him.”
He chuckled. “I’m surprised he hadn’t already. Sounded like the two of you were fighting for a while.”
She shrugged. “After my boys kicked his out, he started yelling, so I yelled back.”
Shaking his head, he laughed and gave her arm a squeeze. “And he’s enough of a fool to keep yelling.”
She laughed too, if a bit halfheartedly, but didn’t speak.
Carmine watched her for a moment, his stomach tight. Finally, knowing she wasn’t going to be happy, he said, “I think you need to stay away from the bar for a while.”
Her head snapped up, eyes flashing with anger. “Stay away from—”
“I know it’s your bar.” He took a breath. “But this thing with Salvatore…” Carmine shook his head. “I don’t think it’s safe for you here. Not until it all settles down.”
Giulia’s lips hardened into a bleached line. “Until Salvatore il Sacchi settles down?” She huffed a bitter laugh. “He isn’t going to settle down until he’s dead. You know that. I know that.” Arching an eyebrow, she asked, “You just want me to hide at home until he finally gets himself killed?”
“No, but Ricky’s boys were causing you trouble before New Year’s, and now Salvatore is—”
“Then do something about him, Carmine,” she snapped. “Off the son of a bitch and be done with it.”
“You know I can’t do that,” he said through his teeth. “He’s a made man, and I’ll have the entire il Sacchi gang coming down on my head if I touch him.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And you think Salvatore gives a damn about that? He don’t play by the rules. Why should you?”
Carmine pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Lowering his hand, he met her furious gaze. “I’ll do what I can, all right? But until I can be sure Salvatore won’t hurt you or destroy your bar, one of my boys needs to take over.”
Giulia huffed sharply. “And then what? What are you going to do about him?”
Oh, he wished he had an answer for her. One that was better than having Maurizio negotiate another truce with Agosto il Sacchi and hope Salvatore honored it. But anything he did would either be useless, or it would ignite a war that would leave more men dead than the il Sacchi brothers.
“I’ll do what I can. Just…promise me you’ll let one of the boys run this joint until things have quieted down.”
To his surprise, she dropped her gaze. Her jaw worked and her shoulders slouched, and she finally sighed. “All right. All right.” Coming somewhat back to life, she wagged a finger at him. “But don’t you forget—this is my bar. I ain’t staying away from it forever.”
“Of course.”
She studied him, searching his eyes like she might find some sign of insincerity. Then she looked around the speakeasy, and her shoulders slumped again. “I suppose I should close for the night. I still need to clean up.”
Carmine glanced at the lounge and broken glass and porcelain scattered amongst the furniture. “Why don’t you lock up, and I’ll help with…” He gestured at the mess.
“Thanks.”
He grabbed a broom and dustpan and went to work while Giulia closed the place. As he carefully swept up the shards of glass and porcelain, his mind wandered where it often did during idle moments—to Danny.
Except the thought of Danny didn’t make him smile or give him a rush of warmth this time. No, there was a feeling of dread he couldn’t ignore. Something that didn’t sit right after tonight’s encounter with Salvatore il Sacchi.
Most of the men affiliated with gangs in this town adhered to an unwritten code. You could shoot another gang’s associate, but if there was no just cause for it, then someone from that gang would likely (and justifiably) shoot you. It applied more to made men, but those working for a particular family could expect a certain level of protection as well. A man would think twice before killing a dock worker on another gang’s payroll or a shopkeeper who’d paid for protection. It had been with that in mind that Carmine had hired Danny.
But as Giulia had pointed out, Salvatore il Sacchi didn’t care about any of that. He thought nothing of harassing the sister of a made man. Of ransacking her bar. Of threatening Carmine.
This wasn’t a man who was interested in codes and conduct. He was a grieving brother determined to exact revenge.