Adversary (8 page)

That was an hour ago and now here he stood in Lucia’s luxury apartment facing the sea in Torre di Mondello. She stepped away to allow him entry and padded barefoot across Slovenian oak floors to the spacious living room, where she sat pulling her legs up on the cushions. “Come, sit.”

Sergio joined her and looked around, impressed by the upscale digs. “I like your place.”

“Grazie. Why did you take so long?” she asked.

“It’s hard getting away from family.”

“You were afraid to come.”

Sergio didn’t say it, but hell yes he was scared. There were her brother Matteo on one side and his crazy cousin Giuseppe on the other. He had Lucia’s number for a while, months actually. They’d met at the hospital after the terrible shootings. She was on her cell phone in one of the waiting rooms looking all cute and shit crying to somebody on the other line. He didn’t know who she was then, he was just being a gentleman when he asked was she all right after she hung up. She was swearing in Italian, which he learned later were directed at Amelda. Sophie and Amelda had banned her from Giuseppe’s room. This was the day he came with Nico to see Alfonzo after Giuseppe went psycho and put Alfonzo back in the hospital. They started talking; hit it off immediately because they were kindred spirits.

Outcasts.

They talked many times on the phone. Secretively of course, the family had enough drama. Hooking up with Lucia would only add to the internal fighting. He was apprehensive about going into a relationship with Giuseppe’s ex. The age gap wasn’t a concern, hell he wasn’t a kid and she wasn’t that much older, beside she wasn’t attached, no kids, big tits and a slim waist which turned him on. Those pretty eyes, lips and the accent were a major bonus. Lucia was the full package if only Matteo and Giuseppe weren’t involved.

He sat down, stretching his legs, feeling awkward. He was accustomed to girls and not self-assured women. “I don’t know about this Lucia. There’s too many reasons to just stay friends.”

“Then why did you come?”

Sergio answered, “Because you told me to.”

She gave a small teeth pretty smile. “If I tell you to kiss me, will you do it?”

Not getting laid last night made the answer easy. “Of course.”

“Kiss me Sergio.”

He chuckled nervously.

“Kiss me,” she repeated and when he hesitated she sat forward and her face to his. Close, teasing she placed the tip of her tongue to the bottom of his mouth. She licked up and slid like licorice through the parted mouth that suddenly opened.

He kiss made him hot, but then she suddenly stopped. “What?” he asked when she stood.

“Have you come to fuck me Sergio?”

“I came to talk.”

She giggled and she looked very young. In fact she could easily pass for a college girl. “No talk, we have talked many times.” Lucia turned, fingering him to follow like a boss. “Come.”

Sergio sat there with a quizzical expression. Was she playing Simon Says?

She stopped as she pulled open the terrace doors and looked back. Venite. I do not bite, come.”

Sergio stood and followed the woman as she swayed as she walked her ass. She leaned on the balcony. Rubber sole shoes gripped the travertine tiles when he walked to where she watched the planes in the sky. The fresh air fanned his body as he stood directly behind the woman who stared out over the city. He could see the lights of Palermo. The open view from her penthouse was breathtaking. The sea blinked sparkles of reflective lights.

“Bellissimo, no?” she asked as wind blew her hair to the side. He looked too beyond the buildings to the waters, seductively lulled by the night lights and ambience.

Lucia’s silk robe lifted and he glimpsed the firm round bottom. “It’s nice.” Pantiless, alluring and exotic, he could not deny she was sexy and said the hell with Giuseppe and Matteo. He touched her and she leaned forward, poking her buttocks out. She said nothing, just looked out over the city like a model in a sexy lingerie spread. His previous words about not hooking up and being friends were killed when he stripped from the waist down. Hard and eager was the penetration, satisfying was the thrill. He leaned over her like a cover and warmed her with heated pushes, holding her waist and stomach, enjoying the pleasure so much he spread her legs wider, going lower he went and pumping up. Sergio spurt a week of frustration within Lucia and she moaned for more with her suckling pussy.

The tempo slowed, she stroked his thigh, said something he didn’t understand that seduced his mind. Smack-talking Sergio was speechless as he inhaled the feminine perfume so light it rafted with the air. He kissed Lucia’s shoulder, even liking the taste of her skin. He gripped her breasts with both hands to pump furiously within the folds of her flesh as the twinkling stars were nature’s symphony for friends that became lovers. Seduced by lovely visions he made-love to Lucia on the balcony on a starry night, not once but many times and fell asleep in her bed smiling, losing track of time.

CHAPTER SIX

The city, ah, Uptown, Westside, Eastside, north or south, Harlem had a unique and steady beat, like a heart which resonates internally. The drumming is real strong. Over asphalt and concrete, the footsteps of diversity pound the streets. Suits and jeans, sneakers and shoes, white, black and in between lived in unity. Ask any Harlemites passing what city they rep and guaranteed they’d go hard. Strong is the voice you’d hear saying, “Uptown, Harlem, U.S.A!”

That’s pride. Nuyorican’s have the same love for their homeland. There’s a word, criollo used to describe the Puerto Rican island’s culture and Harlem fits the bill, hell this is the place which birthed a renaissance. Musicians, artists or anybody looking for a down-to-earth place to chill gathered uptown to breathe the vibe. Some didn’t last, though. The place could be hard-core for the sheltered dreamers unaccustomed to ‘realness’ as they say. The staggering junkie or the assembly of smack talking jovial men can scare away fragile people. Sometimes, the pushy brother peddling his wares or the incense selling Jamaican with those glorious locks isn’t what they envision. Perhaps the glitz of midtown is best suited for snowflakes because they dissolve with a little rain. Unauthentic, replicas, copies, unoriginal and knock-offs is the shit fake people liked.

Suits and shoes, alabaster faces with briefcases provide an illusion of safety. Stuck on the exterior are how some people operate. They’re the ones who have to venture inside to learn they were duped. They walking fast, eye to the ground, bundled in false security is they coped. Fluid mobile limbs and eye-contact when passing a motherfucker is what Alfonzo deemed respect. Hand out that flyer to the party on Friday night hombre, fist pump with pride, do the Harlem Shake when Raggaeton blares from a car. That’s a Harlemites way. Staying in tune with the pulse of the street is the way Nuyorican Kingpin born in Harlem survived.

Alfonzo didn’t twitch nor did his eyes as he viewed the bustle of One hundred and Twenty-fifth and Lenox. He waited, allowing Giuseppe’s rants to end. With Giuseppe he learned to let him blow off steam until he eventually ground to a halt. His mother’s meal they’d eaten had settled but the discourse of family hadn’t. Cobalt irises soon peered down to read the time. Six thirty and a seventy-five thousand dollar watch is what told him.

A sullen mouth descended at Giuseppe’s scathing remark. “He angers me. Relative or not, I want to pound the cazzo’s face!”

“He’s family,” Alfonzo replied.

“I do not like him and do not take sides against me fratellino!”

Alfonzo adjusted the leather ban on the Constantine watch. Patience and time were slipping away. “I side with family. You’re not liking Sergio isn’t reason for me to bash him, brother.”

“Cazzo, saints save you from my fist!” Giuseppe roared in the interior of the car.

Alfonzo was not moved. Giuseppe’s dislike of Sergio was unreasonable. The man was trying to clean up his act. What set Giuseppe on the tirade was Sergio’s late arrival to the aeropuerto yesterday without an explanation and his presence at the meeting with the Fusco family this afternoon. They’d gone to his mother’s after to say hello and of course she made them sit and eat.

Alfonzo’s frown deepened. He did not want to squabble with Giuseppe about their cousin. Sergio was being groomed and to do so he would need to identify the players. A formal introduction to peer into the optical lenses of ruthless men. Unfortunately, Giuseppe disagreed.  Alfonzo suspected Giuseppe was having troubles at home and used Sergio to beat away the tension. Troubled brothers are what they were at the moment.

Finally, Sergio appeared from the IRT subway station with the Metro cards Alfonzo sent him to get. He couldn’t endure another moment of his brother’s scolding and slid to the door and exited. “What took you so long?” he asked.

“There was a line for the card dispenser,” Sergio answered and handed Alfonzo the Metro card. “What do you need one for anyway, where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

“See, he is also a nosy cazzo that one!” Giuseppe interjected leaning out of the car to speak.

Alfonzo sighed. He’d grown exhausted. Giuseppe’s treatment of Sergio was unwarranted –this time. Never make an enemy of his brother. Sergio was very lucky he was family because Giuseppe’s dislike ran deep. “I’ll meet you guys later; I need to clear my head.”

“On the filthy subway fratellino?” Giuseppe shouted.

“Yeah it’s quieter than being stuck in a car with you.”

“Return to the car fratellino and stop behaving the ass!”

Alfonzo walked to the entry of the subway ignoring Giuseppe’s demand. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know Tony was there. But he didn’t require a shadow, all he wanted was peace. “Let Sergio sit in front Tony and have the driver meet me outside the AirTran Terminal on Sutphin Boulevard in about two hours.”

“I have to come along.”

“No you don’t. I’m ordering you to stay.”

“I’m paid to be your bodyguard. You gave me this important detail, remember?”

Alfonzo cocked a brow at Tony. “You’re skating on thin ice.”

“Sometimes people have to fall through ice to keep someone safe.”

A chuckle akin to ‘what the hell?’ Alfonzo gave. He put Tony at ease, the damn soldier and said, “Ease up, estoy bien. I can take care of myself.”

Tony’s displeasure showed and reluctantly he returned to the car as Alfonzo’s shoes were pebbles skipping the water of stairs. His shiny black hair disappeared from view and Tony grumbled as he gave the instruction to the driver and gestured to Sergio to take the passenger seat.

Giuseppe was out the car before Tony moved, mumbling irritably, “Ride underground in filth is better than riding with Sergio!” He directed at Sergio’s back before walking swiftly to catch his brother.

Alfonzo swiped the Metro card and the turnstile beeped. He pushed metal arms to go through and it didn’t budge. “Fuck!” he exclaimed and swiped the plastic once more and received the beep to go but when he glanced at the display screen there was a zero balance on the card. He shook his head; Sergio had purchased a single ride although he gave the sucker a twenty. Old habits die hard is the only thing that came to mind. Progress is slow when dealing with someone who’s only known hunger and ripping people off to get fed. He wasn’t angry with Sergio, he’d been conditioned by hardships and getting knocked on his ass. Alfonzo understood the man because he knew how it felt to be counted out by society simply by his name. Long before this mafia shit he had invisible doors slammed in his face. Doing right wasn’t easy, when you’re being pushed off a cliff. He’d tried many times to go legit after graduating high school to give his mom some peace. Calling jobs, sending in resumes to companies and the one that returned his inquiries asked dumb-ass questions. “Do you have your G.E.D?” or “Do you have a Green Card or Work Visa?” Hell he was even asked, “Do you speak English?” Once he got so mad when an interviewer asked that question he replied as a seventeen-year-old frustrated child would with, “Of course I speak English. I’m speaking English now bitch!”

He’d gone back to hustling with Domingo after that and didn’t look back. In college is when he began to revisit the option of legitimate work. He took a job in the ‘hood at a realty agency to learn the ropes. He learned a lot to, like there are many struggles but the voice inside is what often holds a person back. Once the negative is fed it eats and devours a person into defeat.

Yeah, he knew Sergio’s mindset all too well. Reconditioning Sergio was a process and Giuseppe wasn’t helping with his brow-beating the dude to death. Alfonzo joined the crowd moving toward the stairs of the number 4 train downtown. He had his foot to descend when he heard, “Fratellino, wait!”

He spun around letting the hordes pass and saw Giuseppe strolling through the gate as if he owned the city. Oh shit, did he just beat the fare? Alfonzo asked himself and looked around cursing under his breath, hoping there wasn’t an undercover stationed nearby. Thank goodness Giuseppe wasn’t apprehended because his brother remained strapped.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Alfonzo seethed when the imposing man was at his side.

“I have only euros.”

“Geez, that was risky.”

Giuseppe shrugged his voice louder than the train rumbling into the station. “Life’s a risk fratellino.”

Alfonzo hurried down the steps with Giuseppe walking casually in his shadow. He held the door for the leisure walker and received the New York impatient glares. Alfonzo didn’t give a damn about any of that, he’d come simply to get rest from family. The packed train left little room to maneuver for the Dons. One leaned on the pole, squashing hands and the other against the door staring in the face watching him. He didn’t see what a picture he and Giuseppe were in their expensive suits, shiny black hair, faces of brothers with matching blue eyed hues or the way the veins protruded from their muscular necks and hands. They stood out without trying simply by their appearance and stance.

The train jerked before moving loudly down the track and Giuseppe vented. “Why in the name of the saints must you subject me to this shit?”