Chapter 4

Demetri

"You're just joking around, right?" Freddy asked, reaching up to change the heat settings on the dashboard.

I slapped his hand back and looked over at him sternly.

"Don't touch the car. Sit your ass in it, but that's it." I reached up and turned the heater back on. "You need to learn respect. You're not a kid anymore, and you're still acting like one. I have no idea why Joe thought it would be a good idea to have you as a capo of anything."

"He didn't; my mother forced him to move me up." Freddy grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest, his greasy black hair doing nothing for his thinned-out appearance.

"Why would Vivian want you to run the drug cartel? You have an addiction, and it's getting rather obvious on more than the physical front that you're smoking up the fucking profit margin, Freddy."

The young greaser shrugged, his dark eyes glossy as he stared at me blankly.

I pulled out of the long line of cars that sat idle in the wet grass beside the house of graves and lifted my hand to wave goodbye to a few familiar faces.

"I guess she thought that I deserved to be in leadership simply because I'm stamped with the great Castaletta name." His hands came up in a mocking way, and I swatted at him again. "Hey, keep your big-ass gorilla hands to yourself."

"Stop acting like a child, and I might," I responded before turning on the radio. Elton John's “Bennie and the Jets” blared from the small external speakers.

Freddy came to life a little as he shrugged his shoulders over and over while bobbing his head back and forth.

"Is that supposed to be some form of dancing?" I asked, chuckling. I hated the kid from a business sense but considered him a brother even in the worst of times.

"Hey, I can get my groove on."

"Not in this car you can't."

"What the fuck's so special about this car? You get your first and only lay in this car, or what?"

I caught myself from throwing out a yo’ mama joke. At times Freddy and I had enjoyed moments of under-the-table humor. Now wouldn't be the time, and the slight shift in Freddy's shoulders told me that the younger man was thinking the same thing I was.

Out of all of the Castaletta kids, Freddy had been Vivian's favorite. He was the wounded duck, the one that would never make something of himself without loads of help and care. He'd flunked out of school his freshman year, pissed off Joe too many times to count and had to be bailed out of jail over and over. Not only was he a difficult child, but his older siblings were brilliant, well respected and had achieved their goals already in life.

Joe doted on Izzy and spoke highly of Marco to anyone who would listen. Though the two older siblings were granted leadership in the syndicate at a young age, Freddy hadn't been afforded that right — until Vivian had stepped in.

I remembered it like it was yesterday, the beautiful woman of the house putting her foot down and forcing the fierce Joe Castaletta to bow before her and give Freddy a chance. He promised her that it was a mistake and that he'd be in her face telling her so as soon as he could, but it had been four years, and Freddy had done pretty well — until lately.

"Tell me what happened."

"What happened with what? Stop being cryptic and shit. I hate it when you do that." Freddy shook his head as if I were the biggest pain in the ass ever. He didn't answer but instead turned to look out the passenger-side window.

"What happened with you? Your mama fought hard for you to have this leadership position, and now you're just dicking it away. Why? What changed?" My voice rose in volume, but I made sure to keep my emotions locked down tight. I was pissed at some of the shenanigans that Freddy had been pulling lately, but something sat at the core of the disruption — it always did.

He shrugged.

"That's not an answer. You and I can play games and I'll dig into your shit on my own, but I can promise you it will be painful."

"Is that the only option you're giving me, Dad?"

"Stop being a bitch. You know the other option. You're a grown man, so sit up and talk to me or I'll figure it out without you, and when I do, you'll be paying me back for my time."

Freddy sat up and huffed exaggeratedly, reaching for the heat before jerking his hand back. He was learning.

I smiled, unable to help myself.

"I don't know what the fuck is up. It would be an easy answer if I did. I'm sick of being in the shadow of my brilliant older brother and sister. Shit gets old." He shrugged.

"So you create drama simply because you think that will garner you attention?"

"I don't know what the fuck garner means, but any type of attention is better than none. Mom's the only one that paid me attention or believed in me at all. Now there's like... " He shrugged again and turned back toward the window as if he weren't able to continue his train of thought.

I was done pushing for the moment, not wanting to see the heavy emotion that sat on him shift into something we would both feel awkward about. I reached out and turned up the heat and the music, letting Freddy fall deep under the cover of one or both.