19

ROCELLO

“Where’s the pretty lady, Daddy? Why won’t she come play dinosaurs with me again?”

Thomas had been repeating those two questions more often by the day.

I could tell Margo had made an impression on him. In his young mind, she was an ideal playmate. Naturally, my boy had his reasons. He’d told me over and over how fun it was to play with Margo. How she voiced the various dinosaurs. How she colored with him. How they’d read a book together before bedtime.

My son hadn’t had much experience with a woman doing those kinds of things with him. The sixteen-year-old who sometimes babysat was on her phone a lot, Thomas had told me. And after school, when he stayed with the neighbor, he mostly played with her grandchild while she prepared dinner. And he barely remembered his mother.

So yeah, he’d enjoyed having Margo here to play with him and read to him. And, well, he was his father’s son. I suspected he liked the way she looked, in an age-appropriate way.

Couldn’t fault him for that. Especially not since I liked the way she looked, too, though in a somewhat less-than appropriate way.

She’d somehow gotten under my skin, which was ironic since it had been me who’d had my hand under her skirt. But god, the way she’d writhed and moaned. Before that, I liked her, yes. Admired her, even. I’m not used to meeting a woman who can catch my eye and yield a shotgun. But since that night I’d made her come, my thoughts had gotten a lot more carnal.

She deserved better than that, but I couldn’t help it.

With all the craziness of late, I hadn’t been to The Rusty Bucket. Truth be told, going out for a drink had become a luxury I just couldn’t afford. Not because of the money it would cost me, or finding a sitter, but because of the weird situation I was in.

Had Gambini bought Slade’s story?

Had Roscano?

I didn’t know for sure.

What I did know was that I’d be vulnerable out there. I couldn’t do much about that during the day—I had work to do. Collecting, talking to Roscano’s customers and roughing them up, among other things. But, at night, I would go home and pray that nobody knocked on my door while my son was here.

Not that I thought that was likely. Even mobsters had a code. We weren’t animals. Nobody would shoot a little boy’s father right in front of him. At least, I thought they wouldn’t.

All this meant that it was more important than ever to make nice with Roscano, and not let on that we knew what he’d been up to. We had a meeting with him two nights from now, and I didn’t feel like leaving my son with a teen who’d be texting her boyfriend the whole time.

So, I made a phone call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Margo. Rocello here. How’s it going?”

“You know, the phone actually tells me who’s calling.” She sounded amused, and then answered my question. “I’m okay. How about you?”

“Fine. Listen, I’ve got something to do Thursday night. Thomas’s been asking to see you. Can you watch him for me?”

Thomas looked up from his coloring book, excitement in his eyes. I put my index finger to my lips to pre-empt him. I wanted Margo to come, but it would be a low blow to let my son guilt trip her into it.

Except… she wasn’t saying anything. And if that disappointed me, it was going to crush Thomas. I should’ve gone into my room to make this call. “Never mind. I’ll find someone else.” It shouldn’t be a surprise that she didn’t want to come over to my house now that she knew more about what we did for a living. Jumaine and Slade had filled me in on that.

I sighed and pulled the phone away from my ear.

“Wait!”

“Yeah?” It was stupid, the hope that hit me.

“What time should I be there?”

“Seven. Thanks a lot.”

“Yes!” Thomas cheered, holding his small fists up in the air. We high-fived each other, exchanging a grin. To celebrate, I got Thomas some chocolate milk, even though sugar at this time of the evening was going to make bedtime even harder.

Later, when he went to his room to change into his pajamas, I thought about Margo’s long silence before answering. She had every reason to stay away from us. According to my pals, she herself realized that.

So what made her say yes? Was it the idea of seeing Thomas again? I had to admit, he was a pretty great kid.

Or was it something more?

Things might be awkward between us. They should be, after the way she’d come riding my hand. Sooner or later, we might have to talk about that. I mean, it’s not like I fucked her, but it was something that casual acquaintances usually didn’t do.

To me, sex and anything around it were a matter of right timing. You couldn’t plan it. You couldn’t predict when it would happen. You just had to relax and pick the right moment.

Which was why I wasn’t expecting to get any action on Thursday night after I got home. After all, I couldn’t go wild with Margo—not with a kid here. I didn’t think she’d be so crazy about that scenario, either. Still, I wouldn’t mind messing around with her some more. Kissing her. Teasing her. Hearing her moan again. Hell, I would have had to be a fucking idiot not to want to touch someone so goddamn sexy again.

And I was many things, but I was definitely not a fucking idiot.