Dominic
“Thanks for letting us in, Mrs. Stanza.”
“It’s my pleasure, Dominic. Thanks so much for coming. I know if Daniel was awake, he’d be glad you came to see him.”
I hug Dan’s mother like we’re good friends, but we don’t even know each other. She just knows that her son works for me. She knows I’m the boss and that Dan looks up to the boss, but that’s as far as it goes.
The seventy-nine-year old gray-haired woman feels soft in my arms—fragile, like looking at her only child lying in a hospital bed as he clings to life has taken everything out of her. We’re in the ICU, but it feels more like a morgue than a hospital.
Aside from Dan’s mother, no one is in the room, mainly because the hospital won’t allow anyone but family in the ICU, but also because it’s one o’clock in the morning. I waited until everyone would be out of the waiting area before deciding to come see Dan, and his mother was nice enough to let us in the room by vouching for Alannah and me to the hospital staff.
While Alannah greets Mrs. Stanza, I walk over to the bed and look down upon Dan’s nearly lifeless body. There’s a tube in his neck and he has all kinds of bandages on his torso from the multiple shots he took. Luckily, Dan was wearing a bullet proof vest, otherwise, there’s no way he’d be with us right now. But the vest is also the reason he has internal bleeding that’ll require serious surgery in the coming hours, along with the surgery he’ll need to repair his trachea and vocal cords. It’s a fucking miracle this kid is still alive. The fact that he took a bullet to the side of his neck and still managed to get out of his car and fire a few rounds of his own is amazing. Dan isn’t made, but if he manages to pull through this, I’ll definitely give him consideration when they open the books.
As I look upon Dan, I feel fury that’s been building up in me these past few days boiling to the surface again. After a year of happiness and living the good life, the other shoe has finally dropped. I’m finally experiencing the stereotypical bullshit that happens to mob bosses. All of this shit reminds me of captains plotting to kill their boss, like John Gotti having Paul Castellano shot to death while he’s on his way to dinner, or the Commission putting a contract on Carmine Galante to be carried out while he’s having lunch in broad daylight. I feel like their fate might be creeping up on me, but it doesn’t scare me. No, it only pisses me off more than I could ever explain to anybody. There’s no chance in hell I’m going to let these motherfuckers take me out like those old bosses got taken out. Not a chance. Not me.
You better remember it forever. I’m Dominic Collazo.
“What are you thinking?” I hear Alannah say from behind me as she places a soft hand on my hard shoulder.
“I’m thinking I want to find out who the hell did this,” I reply, keeping my eyes on Dan. “I’m thinking there might be a chance Dan saw something. Maybe he saw who shot him. I’m thinking Raphy was a made guy, so his unsanctioned murder is an act of war. I’m thinking I don’t wanna wait for the Commission to give me their approval anymore. I have to get a hold on all of this, and I’m thinking I need Dan to pull through, because he may have some answers I need.”
Alannah doesn’t respond. I look back at her and I can see the anxiety in her eyes. As if her pupils were crystal balls, I can tell she’s worried about the future—about the possibility of me ending up in a hospital bed just like this one. The way things have changed is exactly the kind of thing Alannah was worried about when she first came back to St. Louis. Her worst nightmare is coming true, and the last thing I want is for her to be scared. My woman should never have to worry—not about me, not about anything, and that’s just another reason I have to get control of this. She has to know that I’ll be her anchor when things get rough. She has to know I’ll always protect her.
Reading the fear in her eyes, I turn around and wrap my arms around Alannah, pulling her body in close to me. She lowers her head and buries her face in my chest as she interlocks her fingers behind my back.
“I know you’re worried, babe,” I whisper to her so Dan’s mother doesn’t hear. “But listen, I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“You may as well not even say that to me,” she says as she lifts her head and whispers in my ear. “You know I’ll worry anyway. I can’t help it.”
“Yeah, I know,” I reply. “But I got this. I’m gonna find out who the hell is behind all of this, and I’m gonna take care of it. Nobody threatens us. Ever. You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about, Dominic.”
“Nothing is gonna happen to me. I don’t give a fuck if it’s Victor or Giovanni, or fucking Satan himself—anybody who comes for me is gonna die trying. Anybody who threatens you is gonna suffer first, and they’re gonna die too. I don’t fear anybody, but after all that’s happened, everybody better be afraid of me.”
Alannah looks into my eyes and exhales. I know it doesn’t matter what I say, she’ll be worried to death, maybe even after this is all over, and I hate it. I hate that she feels anxious all the time, and I wish I could assure her that I’ll be okay, but in this life, you really never know.
“Just find out who did it,” she says, this time a little louder, and Dan’s mother overhears.
The old woman stands up and walks over to us, her oversized floral dress hanging off of her like a nightgown. She places a hand on Alannah’s shoulder as she looks me in the eye with a face as cold as ice.
“Yes, Dominic,” she says. “Find out who did this to my son, and kill them.”
I hear Alannah let out a small gasp in shock at the old woman’s words, but Dan’s mother is old school, and like any old school Italian mother, she wants vengeance for her son being shot. I owe it to her to bring that vengeance, and I will pay what I owe.
“I promise you,” I reply to Mrs. Stanza, whose eyes have filled with tears. “I’ll find them, and when I do, it’s fucking over for them. You have my word on that.”
Mrs. Stanza doesn’t answer verbally, but she says okay with a nod of her head before returning to her seat and continuing to be a spectator in her son’s fight for his life.
As Mrs. Stanza makes herself comfortable for the long night of watching machines help keep Dan alive, I look through the window on the door and see Tommy standing in front of the counter at the ICU entrance. He’s wearing jeans and a long black jacket, which I know is concealing his signature two nine millimeters. He leans forward on the counter as he speaks to the nurse, who I’m sure is telling him only family is allowed in, so I decide to help him avoid the argument. I say goodnight to Dan’s mother with a kiss on both cheeks, and remind her to call me the second Dan wakes up, then Alannah and I head out to speak with Tommy.
“How’s he doing?” he asks as we approach.
“Not good,” I reply. “Trying to make sure he’s stable for a while before doing the first surgery. Let’s go talk.”
“Okay,” Tommy replies, leaning around me to try to see into Dan’s room before following me out.
The three of us walk to an elevator and make our way down into the underground garage of the hospital. Once I know we’re away from everyone, I pull us into a tight circle and speak softly.
