Page 140 of The Enforcer

“We’re gonna fuck the Brambinos,” Nova promised him. “One way or the other.”

“We are.” Carlo nodded in agreement. “One way or the other.”

Nova turned to the mirror and studied his reflection. He didn’t see a difference in his eyes, but he wasn’t paying too much attention. Instead he ran a hand down his chest and huffed. “Fucking gold tie.”

Carlo snorted. “You look Siciliano.”

“I look Siciliano, all right.” Nova tilted his head and eyed himself wearing the tie the don bought him for Christmas last year. “Like a Jerseyguidoshopping forsticchiu.”

Carlo laughed and cupped a hand over his mouth as he studied Nova. “That’s exactly what you look like. Puttaniere.”

“Whatever.” Nova turned away from the mirror and put a hand on the counter. He bowed his head right there in front of Carlo, who had become the only person besides his brothers Nova felt like he could trust. Out loud he prayed, “Please, Ma.”

Carlo grabbed Nova’s face and pressed his forehead to Nova’s. Then Carlo said the Hail Mary in Italian, holding the cross around his neck like he did this a lot when he needed strength. Nova squeezed his eyes shut, trying to let the words wash over him. To somehow give him power. It wasn’t quite the same as Carina’s “Ave Maria” in the shower, but it felt like a good sign. When Carlo was done, they both crossed themselves, and Carlo kissed Nova’s forehead. “He’s strong, Nova. He walked away once, right?”

Nova shook his head, because the tears were threatening. He glanced up, fighting the urge to break down three minutes before this meeting. He looked across the tiled ceiling, quickly counting them, hearing in his mind young Tino.

“How many tiles on the ceiling?”

“One hundred and twenty-two.”

“How many dots in the tiles?”

“Twenty.”

“All the dots?”

“Two thousand, four hundred and forty.”

“Madonn’.” Tino stopped washing his hands and looked up in surprise. “If we had a dollar for all the dots on this ceiling, we’d be rich.”

“Yeah, we would,” Nova agreed. “If we had a hundred dollars for every dot, we could buy a house.”

“And a dog,” Tino added. “I wish we had a dog.”

“Can’t have a dog in the building,” Nova reminded him. “We got you instead.”

A knock sounded on the door, and their mother called out in Italian, “Ehi, are you drowning in there?”

“Sorry, Ma,” Nova answered for both of them.

“You’re not even supposed to be up here. This is a private place. A special place. Hurry up, but make sure Piccolo washes his hands.”

“He’s washing ’em,” Nova said impatiently. “What? We’re not allowed to be in his restaurant? Or take a piss in his bathroom?”

She peeked in and narrowed dark eyes as she pointed at Nova. “Watch your mouth!”

Tino smiled in amusement, and Nova hit the back of his head in retaliation. “Stai zitto, piccolo.”

He didn’t hit him hard, but Tino went down gloriously, in the way only a four-year-old could, cupping his head as he shouted, “Ow!”

“Maledizione, Casanova!” His mother came into the men’s bathroom like a hawk, swooping up Tino and then smacking the back of Nova’s head. “You don’t hit the baby!”

Tino rested his cheek on their mother’s shoulder and stuck his tongue out at Nova before she disappeared out the door.

“You okay?” Carlo asked him.

Nova was still looking at the door. “I guess.”