The Venetian and the Rum Runner - L.A. Witt Page 0,60

when I moved to America, but it’s the life I had the power to make once I was here. I’m not ashamed of that.”

Danny nodded slowly. “Aye. I’m, uh… I suppose my story ain’t much different to yours, then.”

“Yeah?”

Avoiding his gaze, Danny nodded again. “Honest work didn’t keep us fed, the lads and me. Not without breaking our backs.” He stared into his glass as if its contents were fascinating. “So we did what we had to do.”

Carmine watched him silently.

After a moment, Danny swept his tongue across his lips. Finally, he met Carmine’s gaze. “Seems we’re two men trying to survive in a city that don’t give a damn if we do.”

The words were surprisingly profound, and Carmine nodded. “Yeah. We are.” Their eyes locked, and his heart did things it wasn’t supposed to do when he looked at an Irishman who’d once all but told him to go to hell. The same things it did every time he looked at Danny. Carmine swallowed. “I’ve, um, been wondering since New Year’s…” He watched Danny for a moment, heart still racing. “Why’d you do it?”

“What?”

“Why’d you kill Ricky il Sacchi?”

Danny gestured with his mostly empty glass. “I told you, he was—”

“I know what he was doing. And I know why I’d have bashed his skull in myself. What I don’t get is why you did it.”

Danny eyed him, obviously not understanding.

Carmine leaned against his desk. “You didn’t know who Giulia was. You had to know what he was. I’m grateful you did what you did, but she was—”

“She was a stranger,” Danny said, “and he was a gangster. But I stood by once while a man attacked a woman.” He threw back the rest of his drink, then rasped, “God help me, I won’t do it again.”

Carmine blinked, surprised by the candor.

Danny went on, “I was a boy, then. Probably not much I could have done. But I could have scared him off. Startled him long enough for her to get away. Something.”

“You were scared.”

Wincing, Danny avoided Carmine’s gaze and nodded. “I could have done something more than I did, and I’ve never forgiven myself for it.” He sighed. “I still dream about that day, and in those dreams, I still don’t do a damn thing.” He hesitated, then met Carmine’s eyes, his expression and voice haunted as he whispered, “I thought of it when I was in that suite and saw them. Lord knows what he meant to do. Maybe he just meant to scare her so she’d stop telling him to keep his boys out of her bar. I don’t know.” He shrugged tightly. “But I wasn’t about to give him a chance to decide.”

Carmine swallowed. “Well, for what it’s worth…” He raised his glass. “You have my family’s undying gratitude for it.”

Danny nodded. Then he laughed quietly, shaking his head. “I’m surprised she didn’t brain me right back for stepping in, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what a bearcat she is.” Danny chuckled, albeit a little cautiously. “Smart, too—Ricky’d barely landed on the carpet before she took over and started telling me what do. She’s the one that told me to run like hell because I’d just killed Ricky il Sacchi.” He whistled, shaking his head. “Didn’t seem even a little shaken up by it.”

That made Carmine laugh, and he nodded. “That does sound like Giulia.” He finished his drink and put it behind him on the desk. “And she might’ve been able to take care of him herself. I’ll never know.” He looked up at Danny. “But I’ll always be grateful she didn’t have to.”

Danny held his gaze as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’ve got another question,” Carmine said. An arched eyebrow told him to ask, so he did: “What happened to your brothers?”

Danny’s features tightened and he looked away. “Does it matter?”

“You said it was men like me.”

Closing his eyes, Danny pushed out a breath through his nose. He was silent for a long time before he finally looked past Carmine at the bottle on the desk. “Pour me another, and I’ll tell you.”

It seemed like a fair bargain, so Carmine did, pouring each of them a generous amount. Danny sipped his, and he stared at nothing for a long moment. When he swallowed, it took work, and when he spoke, he didn’t look at Carmine. “There was a gym not far from where my brothers and I lived when we came here. Where Hugh and his wife lived.”