“He’ll want a return,” Vinnie said.
“He’s already fuckin’ had it,” Cal replied, uncrossing his arms and thumping his fist on his chest under his shoulder where his bullet scar was and then thumping his uncle over the heart.
“You’re talkin’ a hit,” Vinnie repeated.
“You already said that,” Cal told him.
Vinnie’s brows went up. “You can live with that?”
“Yep,” Cal returned, “absolutely.”
“The cops are closin’ in,” Vinnie explained.
“They been closin’ in on Hart for the last decade,” Cal clipped.
“You’ll carry that mark on your soul –” Vinnie started but stopped when Cal leaned forward and threw an arm out toward the house.
“He put a bullet it Katy and Keirry’s father’s brain,” Cal ground out, “blew his fuckin’ head off. I was here when Vi found out he did the same to her brother and she fuckin’ unraveled. I watched it, Vinnie. I held her in my arms and fucking watched it. That’s all I could do. No control. No power. He took that from her and he fuckin’ took it from me. I stood next to her when she told her girls their uncle was gone and Keira couldn’t even keep her fuckin’ feet, man. It took about thirty seconds longer before Kate collapsed and she did it in my arms too. I was fuckin’ there, Vinnie. Hart wants her enough to take them both out. You think that asshole isn’t gonna be aimin’ at me?”
“You can take care of yourself. I been askin’ around. The brother didn’t know what the fuck he was doin’,” Vinnie pointed out. “He should never –”
Cal cut him off. “Tim was a cop, Colt says a good one. You gonna tell me he didn’t know what he was doin’?”
“I –”
“You don’t talk to Sal, I will,” Cal interrupted his uncle.
“Cal, you don’t want to owe that man,” Vinnie warned.
“He owes me. He got my blood and he got my cousin. He knows that,” Cal shot back.
“Cal –”
Cal leaned back an inch. “What the fuck is this? Why are you –?”
Vinnie’s torso moved forward two inches. “I lost one boy to him. You think I’m fired up to lose two?”
Cal shook his head angrily. “Jesus, Uncle Vinnie. I’m not gonna fuckin’ work for him.”
“He’s persuasive,” Vinnie returned.
Cal pointed to the house again. “Nothin’ would persuade me to jeopardize that.”
“Yeah, and Vinnie Junior had Francesca and he looked at her like she hung the stars and he wanted to give her everything. So he went out to find a way to do that. Easy way is Sal.”
“He was twenty-five,” Cal reminded him.
“He was in love,” Vinnie retorted, jerking his head to the house to make his point.
“Don’t pin that shit on Frankie,” Cal clipped. “You been singin’ that song way too long and you know that shit’s not right,” Vinnie pressed his lips together and looked away but looked back when Cal kept talking. “I got a business, I got money, I don’t need that shit.”
“For fuck’s sake, Cal, you nearly took her Dad down for buyin’ Keirry a CD!” Vinnie’s voice was rising. “Vi hangs the stars for you and I know you. You’re a Callahan. You’re a Bianchi. You’ll wanna hand her the moon.”
“I’ve already handed her the moon, Vinnie,” Cal told him and Vinnie jerked back.
“What?”
Cal didn’t repeat himself and he wasn’t about to explain. “And I was pissed at Pete because he’s up in the girls’ faces and he bought Keira a fuckin’ boy band CD and I live in this house. I gotta listen to that shit.”
Vinnie stared at him a second before he burst out laughing.
Cal didn’t laugh.
“I’m not twenty-five anymore, Uncle Vinnie and I’m not Vinnie Junior,” Cal stated.
Vinnie stopped laughing because he knew what Cal was saying. Vinnie Junior and Cal had a lot in common with everything. They both thought they found what they wanted at a young age and they both gave up everything for it. Cal wanted Bonnie and he wanted a family and he did everything to make that real. Vinnie wanted it all but most of all he wanted Frankie and he wanted to prove to her that he was worth her love.
But that was then. This was now.
Cal had learned the hard way that if you found something good, you didn’t have to give up anything. If it was good, you got everything you needed without giving up shit. Vinnie Junior hadn’t lived to learn that lesson because that lesson killed him. He hadn’t lived long enough to learn that Frankie loved him if he could hand her the moon or if he was making pizzas.