Chapter Five: Richie Silvestri

“He gone?” I asked when Butch lumbered back into the office.

“Fuck that guy,” Butch muttered. His ugly mug looked uglier than usual. Danny O’Shea hadn’t impressed him much. “He’s trouble, boss.”

“They’re all trouble, Butchie boy, but you know my motto. Surround yourself with trouble, so you have someone to blame things on when the shit goes south.”

“Not sure about that,” Butch said, glancing at the doorway. “This one might be different.”

“He’s just a guy looking for work,” Archie said.

“There’s no such thing as just a guy looking for work, you fucking pussy,” Butch said.

“Fuck you,” Archie shot back.

“Easy, boys,” I said. “Tell me again, Archie. How’d you meet this guy?”

I rounded on Archie, happy to see he cringed just a bit. It never hurt to remind him who was in charge around here.

I loved the guy like a slow brother, had since I’d pulled him out of a toilet when we were grade school. I still didn’t know why I’d done it. Something about seeing a little kid floundering in shit I guess. My dad hadn’t been the nicest guy, and I’d had my fair share of shit swirlies from that abusive bastard. Pulling Archie up by the collar and wiping the crap off his face, and the vomit off his clothes after he puked, made us brothers of a kind. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and not even the strongest, but he’d always had my back, and I’d always had his. I guess when you knew the world was already out to get you at the age of eight you needed someone in your corner. Archie was in mine. Probably the only one there by choice.

So, I was stuck with him, and most often I didn’t mind it, but sometimes he made my life a lot harder than it should be. Like tonight. The guy didn’t have a fucking brain in his skull, and I didn’t buy for a minute that he’d been hustling pool for money to give his kids. He hadn’t seen those damn kids in eight months. I knew that because I had to send him with a driver out to Arlington Heights when that bitch ex of his had remarried, to a goddamned chiropractor of all things, and moved out of the city.

Archie had been trying to score money for his habit, and that meant trouble because I supplied Archie with exactly the right amount that worked for me.

“Well, Archie?” I settled in my chair and waited.

“I already told you.”

“Tell me again.”

“Like I said, just a guy,” he stuttered. “He did me a solid. Otto could have killed me, Richie. He had me by the fucking neck.”

“No big loss,” Butch said. “You’re as worthless as tits on a bull.”

I cut a glance to Butch to shut him up. He wisely shut his trap.

Archie looked at the floor. “I’m trying to help a guy out is all.”

“Where’d you say he’s from?”

Archie swallowed. “Don’t know. He mentioned Iowa.”

“That dude ain’t from Iowa,” Butch said.

“H-he didn’t say he was born there,” Archie said. “Only that it was a shithole state and he didn’t want to park there. Ran out of money or something.”

“I don’t give a fuck if he came from Mars,” Butch said. “I don’t like his attitude. All cocky and shit.”

“You’re all cocky and shit,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, well, he ain’t me, okay? He ain’t earned the right to be cocky around here.”

“True, true, but I suspect you’ll keep him in his place.”

“We don’t need another bouncer,” Butch said. “Got bouncers up the ass around here.”

“Because we have pussy up the ass here,” I said. “Some of these drunks think they can cop a feel any time they want, and that doesn’t fly here. If they want their fingers to smell like pussy, they gotta pay. If they want a blowjob, they gotta pay. If they want to fuck someone in the ass, they gotta pay.” I spread my hands and smiled. “You can’t do it all, Butch, and I know for a goddamned fact some of these so-called bouncers, the men I pay, are skimming from me. I need you focused on that.”

“I’ll focus. Got it, boss.”

“Let this guy handle the nitty-gritty and you focus on this damn thief. I know the girls are doing their damn jobs making me dough, and almost every night, the till seems lighter than it should be. Once I know which of them is snatching money right out of my goddamned pocket, you can deal with that too. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Butch smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good. So, train this new guy to look after the girls. He’s new blood, so it’ll take a while for him to start getting brave enough to steal from me. In the meantime, he reports to you, so watch him close.”

“No problem,” Butch said, cracking his thick knuckles. “I’ll watch him like a fucking hawk.”

A hawk. I needed Butch to be a pit bull. Not a fucking hawk.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and glanced at the clock. I hated doing business after midnight. “Get Archie to the hospital and get that hand fixed. No painkillers. I don’t need him jacked up on something else.”

“Ah, Richie, I ain’t jacked up.”

I stared at the scratches on his arm, where he’d been digging at himself with his raggedy fingernails.. “Sure you’re not.” I leaned forward. “I’m serious as a heart attack here, Arch. No painkillers. I don’t care if you have to put a stick between your teeth. You hear me?”

Archie nodded miserably.

“Now get out of here.” I reached toward my desk drawer for my bottle of scotch.

“One other thing, boss.”

Huffing out a sigh, I glanced up to find Butch shuffling his feet. There was something he didn’t want to tell me, but he would—because he was a good little soldier. “What?”

“The dude…he saw Hannah, out on the stairs.”

Jesus Christ. As though I didn’t have enough trouble. If that little bitch was sneaking around stirring up those dancers again about better pay and shit, she was going to find herself in a world of hurt. The last time I’d lost three of my best girls, along with some of my best-paying clientele. If these cunts wanted health benefits, they were in the wrong place. Let them try to find another job with no skills but big bouncy tits, cocksucking lips, and a damp pussy.

“What the fuck was she doing out there?” I asked.

“Don’t know.” He cracked his knuckles again, his mind obviously still on O’Shea. “She was wearing that ratty old robe that looks like shit.”

“Hmm…” If she hadn’t been dressed, she probably wasn’t stirring shit up, at least not tonight. “Hungry I guess. Did she have food?”

“Not that I saw.”

“So did they talk?”

“A couple words I guess,” Butch said. “She looked flustered, but I didn’t like the way they were looking at each other.”

“And how was that?”

“All cow-eyed and giggly. Made me want to puke.”

“You’re just jealous,” Archie muttered.

Butch turned on Archie so fast the smaller man stumbled and fell back against the desk. He cried out and clutched his hand tighter.

“Shut your goddamned mouth, you fucking junkie piece of shit.”

“Down, Butch,” I said with a sigh that let them know I was getting bored with their sit. “It’s no secret around here you’ve got a massive hard-on for my little sis. It’s a done deal, you’ll be family. She’ll come around…eventually. You just gotta be patient. Gotta catch that sexy fly with honey, and the way I see it, what you been dishing out ain’t honey.”

“I try,” Butch said, sulking.

I’d been watching Butch pant after Hannah for years, even since she sprouted tits at fourteen and started smelling like pussy instead of peanut butter and Kool-Aid. Did I want Butch as a brother-in-law? No fucking way. But I needed someone in the family to keep Hannah under control. There was only so much a brother could do. She needed a firmer hand, and though I never minded a bit of violence, I’d promised my dead mother I’d never hurt her little girl. A promise was a promise.

Archie whimpered. “Damn, Richie, can I get this hand looked at? I can’t feel my fingers anymore.”

“Then why are you whining so much, you cunt?” Butch snarled.

“Shut up,” Archie whispered.

“Boys, boys, I’m starting to feel like a referee here, and that isn’t a good look for me. Hate stripes.” I adjusted my plain red tie.

“Let me follow him now and put him out of our misery.” There he was. Finally. Butch, the pit bull with a bone.

I waved my hand, holding on to my patience by a thread. “Not tonight. I wanna see where this leads.”

“It’s leading to disaster,” Butch said. “I can smell it.”

“What you smell is the stench of your own envy, Butchie boy.”

Butch narrowed his eyes, seething. I really shouldn’t goad him, but these two were wearing on my temper. Trying to look like I didn’t give a fuck about this new guy had given me a migraine. It pulsed just beneath the skin on my temple and threatened to erupt full force. What I wanted was my bottle of scotch and some hot, wet pussy. Maybe Jacklyn. I could bury my face in her plump cunt and inhale. The scent of pussy always calmed my nerves.

“I don’t like him,” Butch said.

“I got that,” I said. “Noted. In bright red crayon. Now get the fuck out of here before I decide I need different lackeys.”

They skedaddled after that. They knew when they’d pushed the final button and I was ready to blow.

I yanked the bottle out of my drawer and drank right from the bottle.

Goddamn, my head hurt. Hannah better not become a problem. I’d loved my mother for the short time I had her and wanted to keep my word, but that girl could only push me so far. I had a business and reputation at stake, and no one—not even a little sis—was going to bring me down.