*This is part of ‘Point Of View‘ from Fingers to Sky where an overall story will show four different characters in different POV.
He’d done it again, the thoughts traveling across my head on that extremely cold winters day in New Jersey. It was so cold in fact I could feel the snow before it hit my skin, standing the hairs on end, that or I was now in a worry for when I got back to the boss about this.
It was a terrible mess I’d caused and me being me had a desultory fashion as always and it wasn’t the first time either. It’s not like I meant for any of these things to happen, I just sort of always went in without a plan, probably because I didn’t want this life. Still though, I’ll be in big trouble for this unplanned mess and if you knew the boss like I did, well, I won’t say anymore.
The thought of running did stray my mind, but would that really help me, probably just make things even worse to be honest. It’s probably just best to face the music, plus Antonio is right here with me, watching ever so close, he’d whip his gun out and shoot me through the leg in a heartbeat if he could.
Antonio has a angered face on him, it rarely goes away, you know it’s that Italian American nature in him really, but this was so much more.
“Well, wait till the boss gets a load of this, ay.” He said with a grin across his face.
In this moment I choose to say nothing and was just ushered to the car like the lap dog I was. I hated this job, but once you’re in, you’re in for life and the only way out is, well, sleeping with the fishes at the bottom of the Brooklyn river, yeah we dumped bodies out there sometimes so it wasn’t connected to us.
The ride was speedy, more so than usual and Antonio kept skipping red lights throughout New Jersey. The cold air really started setting in and my breath was a bright white before my eyes, I’d try and go for the heater of the car, that small knob to twist but Antonio kept knocking my hand back.
Weirdly my boss’ office, main head quarters for their organised crime, was in a strip club. Very Sopranos I know, it was like I was living in an episode in my small mob family as we ran about the district playing Italian crime family.
I sadly was also Italian American and had this road paved for me a very long time ago through my father, Don Macioveni.
Pulling into the seedy car park where the ‘Wilder Thoughts’ sign blinkered above clearly visible in the night sky. Antonio pulled back the handbrake and lent in towards me waving his gun at the same time, “Listen, any funny business.”
I just nodded my head, he always liked to throw threats around like this and his gun was his only way of doing it. Strange enough me and him used to be childhood friends, but this world changes people as they get a taste of power, women and money.
Wandering through the back door of the club, all the women wooed over me as always, it used to make me feel special, now it just felt a bit desperate. I could already hear the boss in their office, making a big conniption in the back. They always did this, always making a big deal of something small, especially if it was me.
Antonio opened the door first, waived his gun yet again to usher me through the threshold and followed behind like a lost puppy. The seat in front of the desk was placed ready and primed for my god knows what moment will happen so I sat down as if keen to actually take it.
“You’ve had it this time you little shit, you hear me, had it.” A fist slammed on the desk and the boss’ eyes were blazing red fire, it was usual of my sister to be this angry with me, after all I did make a mess of the family name repeatedly.
Like my family always said when they had a man on their knees and a gun to their temple, welcome To New Jersey.