At Peace

Carla collapsed back into bed and he heard her soft snore.

He yanked up his jeans, left the room and hit the stairs, surprised her snores began immediately. He knew then that was it, she was out. Not that she’d made an impression on him, only her lips had but even if he woke up beside her and she rallied, he knew she was out. He hated snoring and he also couldn’t call up much emotion for some bitch who could hear a knock on the door in the early hours of morning and leave him to it. He wouldn’t let her do anything but he figured Violet would not go back to sleep and leave Cal to deal. She’d wait to go back to sleep when she knew he was back in bed with her, safe. And he knew she’d do this with her dead husband too. She’d do this before she learned knocks in the moments before dawn could mean bad shit had come calling. She’d do this because it was the right thing to do if you were a good person or you gave a shit about someone.

Not many good ones out there, he was thinking as he walked down the stairs. He was just glad Cal finally found himself one of them.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs and he felt a clutch in his chest when he heard the knocks coming from the backdoor not the front.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, went to the hall closet, grabbed his gun and headed back toward the kitchen.

Standing to the side of the door, he shoved the curtain partially aside and saw Frankie standing on his back stoop.

His first instinct was to open the door, shove the bitch down the stairs, close the door, walk upstairs and kick Carla out. Just seeing Francesca put him in no mood to be around any woman. But his mother would have a conniption if he put his hand on a woman in anger even if that woman was Francesca who his Ma detested, so he didn’t do this. His mother in a conniption wasn’t worth the trouble, even for the satisfaction of laying his hands on his dead brother’s bitch.

Therefore he switched on the outside light, turned the lock and opened the door, keeping his gun in his hand.

The life she led with Vinnie, Francesca had learned and she clocked the gun first.

“Benny,” she whispered.

“Say what you gotta say, bitch, and get the fuck outta my space,” Benny replied.

Her eyes lifted and the second thing she clocked was his chest. Stopping there, her face got pale, he could see it even in the dark. Stupid, greedy slut.

“Two seconds,” Benny warned and Frankie’s eyes shot to his.

“It’s Cal,” she said quickly and that feeling in his chest got tighter.

Benny opened the door further, stepped back and Frankie moved in. Benny shut the door, locked it, flipped off the light switch and grabbed her arm, yanking her into the hall.

“Benny –” she started when he stopped them in the hall.

“I got company,” he told her, his voice quiet and he saw her head tip back to look up the stairs.

“Figures,” she whispered and her voice was tight.

“You got somethin’ to say about Cal?” Benny prompted.

“Who is she?” Frankie asked and Benny pressed his lips together. Then she went on and her voice was lower but lighter. Apologetic. “Benny –”

“When’d it become your business who I fuck?” Benny asked.

“Ben,” she whispered.

“That sign went up on the restaurant, Frankie, but when it did I didn’t become a millionaire. Got no more than Pop which wasn’t good enough for you. Not gonna give you the chance to wrap your golden cunt around my cock and get me to sell into a franchise like you tried to talk Vinnie into talkin’ Pop into doin’.”

In a flash he felt her attitude hit the hall.

“You’re talkin’ that trash to me and I used to be a member of your family,” she hissed.

“You came to my house in the middle of the night with info about Cal and you’re leadin’ with this shit so brace, babe, ‘cause you brought it on yourself. You gave up your position in this family when you led Vinnie by his dick straight to Sal. I’ll remind you, this isn’t the first time after we lost him you tried to get it from me and I told you before, that shit is not fuckin’ happening. You came here to say something, say it.”

“I needed to be with someone who loved him like I did,” she snapped in her defense.

“Yeah, bet he was smilin’ down from heaven when he saw you tryin’ to shove your hand down my pants,” Benny fired back.

“We were both emotional. Things got outta hand.”

“No, nothin’ got in your hand.”

“You kissed me,” she returned.

Benny leaned in and got in her face. “Bullshit, you pressed up against me, laid it on me and I was wasted.”

“I was wasted too.”

“Woman, your boyfriend had been whacked.”

“And your brother had been whacked.”

Benny wanted to relive this like he wanted to be kicked in the gonads therefore he went silent and started counting to ten.

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