“Oh, no?” Landon asked. Miles could tell by Landon’s tone of voice that he knew that he had a favor to ask him.
“No. Walking into the lion’s den, I could use one person on my side…” Miles explained.
“I got your back…” Landon said a little too easily.
A grin grew from Miles’s lips as he peered over at the kid.
With Landon, what you see is what you get. Sometimes that’s not such a bad quality to have. True fucking blue.
“Here’s the thing, though…” Miles continued. “If it’s obvious that you have my back, they will turn on you.”
“Huh?” Landon asked, with a clearly confused look on his face.
“Exactly what I said. If they know you have my back, they will eat you alive. Just keep your eyes open for me. If you hear that someone is trying to take me out, give me a heads up.”
“I can do that…” Landon said again in a sincere voice.
“I have another favor to ask,” Miles said, hoping he wasn’t pressing his luck with this kid’s loyalty.
“What’s that?”
“Prep me. What the fuck am I walking into?”
“I don’t think I know what you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb, Landon…Uncle Sonny was Boss when I went in on the inside. His brain is fucking wracked. Dementia and shit. Who is acting boss?”
Landon let out a heavy sigh.
“I’m not supposed to talk about this shit. I don’t get involved, and they are already on my ass about that.”
“Kid, you’re gonna have to learn to trust me.”
“I do, but—”
“But what?”
“I’m not a cugine! I’m not associated. I, for lack of a better term, opted out.”
Miles snarled at the word cugine. It was a tongue in cheek reference to the stereotypical wise guy. Track suit wearing, gold chains, shit slinging tough guy with mob ties. Landon most certainly was not a cugine.
“The old man let you opt out?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
Miles gave Landon a look of speculation. There was something that he was missing. He was never given such a reprieve. It was serve or die. Uphold the Capadonno family name and honor, or accept your fate.
Had the old man gotten soft? Or is he hiding something?
Landon, seeing the look of pain in Miles’s eyes, continued, “I know you were set up. I know Uncle Sonny had a hit out on you… but I don’t know why. Knox always played you up to be a weasel, but I know better.”
Miles’s hands clenched the wheel, his knuckles turning white at the sound of the name Knox. Bringing Corina screeching into the elbow, Miles turned his sights towards Landon.
“Knox is the motherfuckin’ weasel!” Miles screamed, putting his fingers in the kid’s face.
Landon stared up at Miles with big, wide eyes and a look of innocence that Miles himself had never possessed in his life.
“Shit. Sorry,” Miles said sheepishly, feeling bad for snapping on the kid.
“You got anger problems, dude,” Landon said as the shocked look faded from his face.
“My bad. I’ve been in the fucking can for something I didn’t do. Crucify me for being a little fucking pissed off.”
“Try again. Be calm… I deal with enough crazy shit at home.”
Jesus Christ, this kid is like a friggin’ psychiatrist.
“You know I got arrested right after Mom died, right?” Miles asked, not giving him any hints.
I wanted him to figure out this shit on his own.
“So wait… are you saying that Mom’s death had something to do with this?”
“All I’m saying is… When it comes to real family… blood… and the Capadonno family at large, the crime family always wins. I chose Mom. Knox chose them. Now who’s the fucking weasel?”
“Knox didn’t go to Mom’s side?”
“No. Neither did Dad. Sasha was too busy getting high with her douche nozzle boyfriend behind St. Laurentius’s church. Rainey, Dustin and you were only kids then. Our mother was a fucking saint and there was no way I was leaving her side to run favors for Uncle Sonny…”
“Who set you up?”
Miles laughed darkly as the faces of the men flashed in his mind.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Finally feeling calm enough to drive again, Miles hit the gas pedal and worked Corina up to eighty miles per hour down the Turnpike.
“So kid, you never answered my question…” Miles pushed.
“I know I didn’t.”
“I’m not going to reveal you. I’m no rat.”
“Well, obviously Uncle Sonny is unfit to lead, so there’s an acting boss.”
“Is it Knox?”
“No.”
“Uncle Frenchie?”
“God, no, that dude weighs like six hundred pounds now.”
“Damn!”
“Real roly poly motherfucker…”
“That’s fucked up, dude,” Miles said with a laugh. “Fat shaming your uncle.”
“My bad…”
“That would be like us calling you pale face,” Miles said with a smile on his face. He could feel the weight of Landon’s stare. “What? We all got a little Irish in us… you have the fair complexion and light eyes. I have the fortitude to drink myself sober. Get over it.”
“Seriously? Sober?”
Miles nodded.