sent to all five boroughs. Relax. You’re putting me on edge.”
Levi shakes his head. “It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you. You shouldn’t be out here.”
“Relax,” I repeat. “Rilassare. Everything is going to be fine.”
“Who is it?” Derrick finally grumbles from the other side of the door.
“You know who it is,” I say pleasantly. “Open up, Derrick. First and final warning.”
The door cracks open and immediately, he’s full of excuses. Derrick has greasy hair and dirty fingernails and—oh, for fuck’s sake—he’s trotted his wife and kid out to try and make us soft. They stand at the rear of the apartment, near the grimiest, water-stained section of wall, wearing hangdog expressions as if to fill us with pity.
My rage rises. What sort of man uses his family as props?
“We have been calling, Derrick,” I growl.
“Have you?” He tries to laugh as his eyes move over me and Levi, his Adam’s apple shifting as he swallows nervously. “My phone’s been broken, Angelo. You know me. I’d never ignore a call from you. I’m not an idiot.”
I don’t even listen to what he says. It’s as meaningless as a cow bleating at the slaughterhouse. “You’ve missed your payment. You owe us two thousand dollars. Does it seem like a good idea to owe the De Maggio family two thousand dollars?”
I walk close to him, having to force myself not to look at his family. The wife has her hand across her kid’s chest. She’s shielding him from me. As if I’d ever fucking hit a woman or a kid.
Anger rages in me. Derrick is the one who borrowed money and couldn’t pay. He should be the one cowering. Not this desperate woman. Not this innocent child.
He blinks stupidly at me. “I …”
“Spit it out, Derrick.”
“I’m just surprised to see you here, Mr. De Maggio,” he splutters. “I expected—”
“Some poor bastard you might be able to talk into letting you off in exchange for, oh, I don’t know—an hour alone in bed with your wife? Someone gullible? Someone merciful? Let me spare you the trouble and inform you: you expected wrong.” I feel a cold spear of anger moving through my spine. I try to control it. I try to breathe.
Most of all, I try not to look at his wife and child cowering in the corner.
“Do you have my money or not?” I snarl.
“I can get your money, sir,” he mumbles.
“Wrong answer, Derrick.”
“Stronzo,” Levi swears in mock disgust, shaking his head. “I think you owe us four thousand dollars now, Derrick. For the medical bills.”
“M-medical bills?” There is no color left to his face.
“I think he’s saying you make him fucking sick,” I growl.
I try, I really do try to control my anger, but before I know it, I’ve got him shoved him against the wall, my hand around his throat, squeezing so hard his eyes bulge in the sockets. “Where is the money? Where is my fucking money?”
The wife and the kid are crying, but they don’t move from their spot. It’s like they think we’re going to hurt them. Which we’d never do, of course. And that just pisses me off more.
“I … I …”
I loosen my grip a notch. “Yes?”
He’s sobbing now. “I have—it’s under the mattress.”
“Of course it is,” I sigh. “Levi, grab it.”
He moves into the bedroom as I turn Derrick and look at his wife, at the tears sliding down her cheeks. My anger is starting to fade. That’s how my temper works: like a volcano, erupting, and then just as quickly it’s gone. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you, ma’am. We won’t be here much longer.”
I growl in Derrick’s ear, “If I get word about you coming up short on your payments again, I will be back here, and it will be worse.” Then I call to the back, “Levi, we good?”
“Yeah. There’s a few grand back here.”
“Just take the two. Let’s hope this idiot knows better than to spend it so carelessly next time.”
Levi reemerges from the back bedroom. I drop Derrick from where I had him pinned against the wall. He slides to the floor in a whimpering puddle. When Levi gives me the nod, we turn to leave.
I have one foot across the threshold when a twinge of guilt strikes me. I stop and look back. Derrick’s wife and child have not moved. Just go, says the pragmatic voice in my head. Leave them behind. They hitched their wagon to the wrong horse.
But I can’t. I growl wordlessly, frustrated with myself