“That is my issue.” Tino lifted his head and glared at his brother. “I’ll cover the cost.”
“You give them to him every week. I’m your captain, motherfucker. You come up short, and it’s my ass.” Nova acted like it was a personal affront. “Or maybe he’s paying you in different ways.”
“Maybe he is.” Tino reached in his backpack and grabbed Nova’s poppers and handed them to him.
Bobby laughed at Nova. “You do poppers?”
“They make the roll more intense,” Nova explained without shame. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“They make your dick soft,” Bobby reminded him.
“Bobby.” Nova got in his face and quirked a dark eyebrow. “Nothing makes my dick soft. I could go all night if I wanted to.”
“Is that true?” Bobby asked in surprise.
“Unfortunately.” Nova shoved the poppers into his back pocket. Then he took out a money clip with way too much cash in it, considering where they were, but someone would have to be certifiable to rob him. Nova was the don’s favorite pet genius, and everyone knew it. He pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and reached over to shove it in Tino’s pocket, obviously deciding to contribute to the cost of Bobby’s ecstasy. Then he helped himself to a glow stick. “Grazie.”
“Don’t take the glow sticks. Take one of these.” Tino held out the bag of extras. “I only have a hundred glow sticks.”
Nova took one of the loose pills too, but he kept the glow stick.
“You’re gonna do two and the poppers?” Tino asked in disbelief.
“Yes, I am.”
Speaking of someone who wasted drugs.
“Fuck if I’m giving you three,” Tino growled at his brother. “I’m serious. Make ’em last, Casanova.”
Nova didn’t acknowledge him. He just opened the door and exposed Tino, even though Nova knew he wasn’t ready.
“Tino!”
“Fuck.” Tino growled and reached in his bag for another bottle of water. “Give this to my brother.” He handed it to Bobby. “Go now.”
Bobby pushed his way in even as everyone else came out to meet Tino.
“Don’t touch my bag. The first motherfucker who touches my bag gets thrown out,” Tino growled at the crowd and pointed to the door. “Inside. Go. No one gets anything on the street!”
That turned everyone around real fast, because what good was a rave without the treats? He followed them in, and there were three Lost Girls standing to the side, bouncing up and down, arms out expectantly.
Real Lost Girls.
Not the kind Nova fucked—the ones from bad homes with parents who didn’t care like they should.
These Lost Girls didn’t have parents.
Or if they did, they were winners like Frankie, who sold their daughters on the back pages to highline dealers like the Brambinos. Or the Russian mafia. Or the yakuza.
The Morettis were actually unique in staying out of the flesh market. They thought they were better than that, but Tino’s opinion was a bit different. He was disgusted with them for ignoring the problem. It was something too dirty to pay attention to, so they turned a blind eye like the rest of the world. They had absolutely no idea about the inner workings of the underground sex market. They didn’t want to know the details. Just being aware it existed was bad enough.
Even Aldo didn’t know what the band on Tino’s wrist meant.
Which had shocked Tino at first, but he had learned to spot the ones who knew and the ones who didn’t, and he was sure the don had no idea. Just like Nova and Carlo had no idea.
Tino picked up Meilei, who was owned by the yakuza. She worked in Midtown at a place that covered as a nail salon.
She was sixteen.
And she was one of the oldest ones there.
“Protect my backpack,” he said as he tossed Meilei over his shoulder. She giggled and spread out her arms wide over the backpack as a crowd followed him. Tino found a place in the corner that was high enough to let him see the crowd and low enough to be accessible. He set Meilei next to him on the slab of raised concrete, designating her as his helper. Then he shouted to the group of people pushing in too close. “Three feet back. Form a line. Pretty girls first!” He found them in the crowd and pointed them out. “One, two, three. Melissa! Carla! Come on!” The Lost Girls came to the front of the line, and Tino had to practically scream over the music, but he’d learned how to make himself heard. “Pretty boys too!” Tino found one in the back and pointed at him, even though he didn’t know him. “Up here.”
He was beginning to suspect why his brother thought he was gay.
And he was starting to realize how much he didn’t give a shit.
There were a lot of Lost Kids here tonight, part of the magical mafia circle of dysfunction. Use them for money, make their lives so entirely horrible they needed an escape to keep breathing, and then make money off the drugs they bought.
But weren’t the Morettis special for not dealing in skin?
They just sold them the drugs instead.
Fuck that.
“How much?” Melissa asked as she bounced up to him first and then added, “You matter, Tino.”