Free (2012) Blood on Blood by Frank Zafiro Page B

it but know that I got something he could never get.
    Hero boy had never had any luck with the ladies and I always did, simple as that. Rubbing it in was just natural, you know?
    I keep staring back at him and the more I do the more I start to believe he’s thinking diamonds.
    Mick had always tried to do the right thing, be the good guy, save the day and all that other good shit. But from what I heard, he also had a long string of fucking hard times when he stopped being a cop.
    Here’s what I’m thinking. Shit jobs, no women and no cash helps make heroes like my brother here, very unhappy boys. Makes them think about doing things they would never dream of doing normally.
    That’s Mick, though. Me, I got shit goin’ on already. I got the money from Patrik and even more coming when I kill that old Russian bastard. But hey, why shouldn’t I get some more with the earrings? Fuck Hero.
    I look at the priest now, who’s swinging his incense canister around and the chain on it echoes softly.
    I’m not trying to get all deep here but I think I agree with one thing the church preaches. Man is a failed animal. We’re all born with sin. It’s always right there, sometimes on the surface, sometimes down deep. It’s a matter of whether you just go with that and make the best of it, or fight it.
    Sooner or later, you sin. You fail. So, I’m thinking Mick has reached that breaking point. I mean, how long can you really keep slinging slop around in the back kitchen of some fucking greasy spoon? No money equals no money, right?
    So I can see me maybe playing all nice for awhile. Maybe we’ll even use each other’s help to find those fucking earrings. If so, he’d be planning on a split, no doubt. The fair thing.
    Sorry, Mick, but I’ll fuck you over just as sure as I’m sitting here. In the end, I’ll leave you standing there with your dick in your hand like always.
    The priest seems to be wrapping this up. Maybe. There’s not too many people here and I’m not sure if anyone is getting up there to say anything or not. I know I’m not. I just don’t know how these things work.
    Ma is still blubbering away, so I look away and think about Dad a little. I can’t believe that plain ass casket he’s in. It cost me a small fortune and so did everything else today. It all should be made outta gold for what I paid and it’s not even the good stuff they bury people in.
    Down on our knees we go again. I cross myself and look over at Ania.
    She’s looking past me now, down the pew. She looks serious, her eyes full of fire. Kind of a ‘what the fuck you looking at’ glare. I follow her gaze over to Mick who turns his eyes back up towards the front.
    I’m liking this girl more and more every day. She just knows things instinctively. I told her a little bit about Mick and me earlier, but not that much. I can tell she already don’t like him. She knows he’s a loser.
    Then Ania’s ice blues flick back to me with a much softer look. I stare into them again and think about later. Her hip pushes hard against mine.
    I look up at the high ceiling and to some who might not know me, it probably looks like I’m praying. To be honest they’d be right. I’m praying for this dentist appointment of a ceremony to be over.
     
     

TWELVE
    Mick
     
    I went looking for Jerzy and found her instead.
    She was all alone at a corner table of the crowded bar, where the after-wake was in full swing. A bright gold crucifix reflected in the dim light of the place. Her pale blue eyes looked up at me with an intensity that I felt straight through to my bones. It was the same fiery look she’d shot down the pew toward me earlier. The thing was, I couldn’t tell for sure if it was hate or desire or something else entirely. I just knew what it did to me.
    “Where’s Jerzy?” I asked her.
    She continued to look at me, a touch of a smile playing on the corner of her mouth. “He’s around.” She held out her hand. “I’m Ania.”
    I reached out.