All the Inside Howling (Hollow Folk #2)(55)

“The day you threatened me and demanded my help.”

His grin flashed. “Threatened? Jesus, kid, have a little perspective. Anyway, after everything with Tony, you don’t go dancing off to visit the Miller boy. You go straight to the Bradleys. What’s that about?”

“You want to know about my dating life? You’re probably better off shooting me.”

“I want to know every fucking thing about the Bradleys. Answer my question.”

“We’re friends. That’s it.”

“Oh yeah?” He tapped the table with the pistol, and a delicate chime ran through the metal and up my arm. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. Why did he care so much about Emmett? And who else was wondering the same thing? All Lawayne said, though, was, “Could have fooled me.”

“Who are the Biondi?”

“The Biondi are about the nastiest crime family in New Jersey. I mean, we’re talking a new level of nasty. You ever seen The Godfather?”

“Yeah.”

“Kind of classy, right? I mean, sure, they’re mean as shit, but they’ve got rules, they’ve got standards. That’s what the whole film is about, after all.” He paused, as though considering how to proceed. “That might be all shit. I don’t know. It’s a story—it’s a book, really, if you can believe that—and maybe it’s all made up. But if the world was ever like that, it sure isn’t anymore. I heard about the cartels in Mexico, one of them at least. If they find out you betrayed them, if they even think about it, they cut your face off while you’re still alive. How’s that for morale?”

I shifted on my stool, eying the pistol, which Lawayne still gripped, and the distance to the door. My odds weren’t good, especially since I was hurting and exhausted and moving slow.

“Anyway,” Lawayne said, “the Biondi are like that. One guy, they flayed him. But not fast. Slow. I heard a lot of versions of the story, and some of the guys say two years, some of them say ten years, like that’s even possible. But Sally brought it up once. Six months.” Lawayne swallowed, and for the first time that night, he didn’t look like my buddy or anybody’s buddy. His cheeks sagged, and he ran his hand under his jaw and down his throat. When he spoke again, he sounded like he was talking to someone else, someone not even in the room. “Six fucking months, peeling his skin off. They had a doctor around just in case it looked like the poor shit might die before they were finished with him.” His voice rose half an octave. “Six fucking months.”

A minute passed, a full sixty seconds, before Lawayne shook himself, sitting straight on the stool and flexing his hand around the pistol. “I don’t want to give the Biondi six months. I’ve done business with them for a while, and I’ve done a hell of a good job, all things considered. But a man knows when it’s time to get out, and trust me, it’s time for me to get out. There’s not a lot of smart ways to do that. It’s easy to get into this business. It’s not even that hard, not really, to do well. But getting out. Jesus. You might as well be a one-legged blind motherfucker in a dead-end alley, and even if you can climb that dead-end, there’s another ten feet of razor wire waiting for you.”

“So you trade the gun for protection.”

“Not for protection. For a new life, no record, all that good stuff. Do you know how bad the DOJ and the FBI and God only knows who else want to get something on the Biondi? And here I am, just some shithead from nowhere, and I’ve got it. Gemella Biondi, she’s as tough as they come, she put down two New York city cops with that gun. Put them down like they were dogs. Pop, pop.” He mimed the shots with the gun in his hand. “Then she had the goddamn decency to do a hell of a lot of blow and try to screw my brains out. I went back, I found where she’d tossed the gun, and presto-change-o, suddenly Lawayne Karkkanew has a chance at a new life.”

“Does Salerno know? Do the Biondi know?” I asked.

“Would we be sitting here if they did?”

“Then why is Salerno here?”

“Because Gemella is a bitch. She’s convinced someone is trying to betray her, and she thinks it’s me because I won’t move to New Jersey and play house-boy with her.”

“Technically,” I said, “she’s right. You are trying to betray her.”

“But she doesn’t know that. Anyway, it’s a moot point. Salerno will be here, poking around until he gets bored, but he’ll go away eventually. And when he does, I’ll make a few phone calls and be a free man. A very rich free man.” Tap, tap, tap went the pistol on the work table. Tap, tap, tap. The chimes vibrated through the table, up my arm, and into my chin. Tap, tap, tap. “Now, Vie, you got the whole story. You can make your informed decision now. But you better goddamn make it fast.”

“All right.”

“Just like that?”

“I want something in return.”

“Jesus, kid. Did you finally learn how to play ball? We could have done this three weeks ago.”

“No. We couldn’t. I’ll help you, but I want your help too. I’m trying to find a boy. I think he’s hurt. Most likely, he’s dead. And the last place anyone has seen him is at Jigger Boss. I went there. Something happened there. Something terrible.”

“In my club?” Lawayne shook his head. “I would have known. Trust me.”