Goodnight and sleep well, my darling. The words my mamma whispered to me every night at bedtime since I was born. The words that took away my fears, blocked out all the badness in the world.
After the diagnosis of Lou Gehrig’s disease, when her fears became too much bear, I began whispering them to her too. It made her smile, and like Mamma always said, the sandman should always find you smiling.
Walking to her nonna’s old 1930’s record player she brought with her from Italia, I pulled out the worn down vinyl record of her favorite song from the bookshelf at the far end of the room. Putting the pin in place, the sound of the vinyl beginning to turn crackled through the speaker, and seconds later, “Ave Maria” performed by Andrea Bocelli filled the room.
For a moment, I just paused. This song was my childhood. It was bullets being drowned out as we lay in bed, trying desperately to sleep. It was Mamma taking our hands and spinning us ’round, making us laugh on Christmas day, trying to make us forget we got no presents, no turkey and stuffing to eat. And it was a painful reminder of what Mamma could’ve been. She was an opera singer, a soprano. Mamma was from Florence. My daddy’s folks had been Sicilian but moved to the States—Alabama—in the fifties. My daddy went to his grandparents for a visit, Mamma was on tour with her opera society, and they ended up in Verona at the Teatro di Verona. That night, while traveling around Italy, my daddy saw her sing. Luca Carillo was gone for Chiara Stradi at one look: dark-brown eyes, long dark hair… She was beautiful. Within weeks, he’d made her fall for him too. She left her singing and family behind, and Daddy returned to the US with an exotic wife in tow. Mamma’d disgraced her family; they never spoke to her again.
But a nineteen-year-old Chiara Stradi hadn’t known about twenty-six-year-old Luca Carillo’s drinking problem. She hadn’t known he was a slut. She hadn’t known that years later, she’d wake up dirt poor, in a doublewide in the worst part of town, her husband gone, having run away from his responsibilities, her dreams shattered, no family to help, and stuck with three growing boys to clothe and feed.
This song had lifted her spirits.
This song had kept her unwavering Catholic faith intact.
This song had kept her strong.
I prayed to God it’d make her strong now.
Moving back to see her lying peacefully, I almost broke down as her top lip crooked into a contented smile, even in sleep.
Tucking the faded quilt around her sleeping body, I tipped my head forward to my steepled hands, closed my eyes, and offered a silent prayer, “Dio ti benedica, Mamma.”
May God bless you, Mamma.
Gathering the dirty laundry from Mamma’s room, I headed out of the trailer to the Laundromat on the site. Passing several of my old crew, I kept my head down, ignoring the shitty looks they were casting my way. The only thing stopping them from shanking my ass was the fact that Gio’d let me out without repercussion. That and the fact that all the brothers were shit scared of what Axel would do to them if they even dared touch a hair on my head.
Bursting through the doors of the Laundromat, I ignored the coked-up junkie passed out on the row of plastic red chairs and loaded the washing machine, setting it on the quick wash. Leaning back against the heavy-with-graffiti wall, I tried to stop intense anger from taking me over.
How could Axel be leaving Mamma like this? While he’s out with his “family,” dealing snow and making green, Mamma was lying in a pool of her own piss, stinking of a week’s worth of sweat.
And Levi! Where the fuck was the little shit at nearly midnight? One thing was for sure. He wasn’t going to school. Meaning shit grades… meaning no football… meaning zero chance of him getting a scholarship to UA to play for the Tide.
My nails bit into my palms as my fists clenched so tight that I was sure I’d drawn blood. This fuckin’ gang was the bastard bane of my life. First Axel, then me, now Levi.
It was Gio.
All Gio’s fault.
He’d set his sights on the Carillos ever since we were kids. All of us were tall and naturally strong—intimidating. Perfect for Heighter life. Perfect for Gio’s personal protection, and we all fell into it like his fuckin’ devout sheep, following the wolf to slaughter.
Everything my mamma fought so hard for was gone. She was gonna die watching her sons falling right into hell.
“Fuck, Carillo. If football don’t work out, you could always become a damn maid,” someone said from my right.
Gritting my teeth, I lifted my head to find Gio in the doorway, smirking at me. Like a naked flame to a can of gas, I exploded and found myself tackling Gio to the floor, pinning him to the sticky tiles, and I began pounding my fists into his face.
“Motherfucker!” I screamed over and over as Gio lifted his arms to protect himself from my blows.
Arms grabbed me from behind and wrenched me back. Ripping myself free, I turned on the punk who’d pulled me off and came face to face with Axel.
I just saw red.
I slammed my hands against his chest, and Axel’s wide eyes stared at me as he fell back into the plastic chairs, the sleeping junkie barely acknowledging what was happening right on top of him, too doped up with whatever shit he’d pumped into his veins.
Axel scrambled to his feet. I saw his fist clench, and I smiled. Bring it on, fucker, I thought. I needed this. It had been a long time coming between him and me. I was done with his dumbass ways.
“I’ll give you that one shot, kid, but try another and it’s game on,” Axel warned.
A fist blindsided me from my right, and I smashed back against the dryer. Straightening my back, I rubbed at my jaw and turned to see Gio being held back by Axel.
“You just signed your own death warrant, homie,” Gio spat, blood from his teeth spattering on the floor.
Lifting my hand, I flicked my four fingers under my chin and hissed, “Vaffanculo,” in a biting monotone voice. Gio’s eyes bulged at being told to fuck off in Italian, and he practically wrestled Axel back to get to me.
“Shit! Gio. Calm the fuck down!” Axel shouted as he pushed Gio out of the door. I began pacing like a damn bull taunted with a red flag. I wanted that motherfucker dead. I was pumped—pissed at Axel, pissed at Levi, pissed at Gio; hell, pissed at God!
The door slammed back open and Axel came storming through. Just as I was about to fly at him once more, Levi ran in behind Axel, pure fear on his teenage face. I had no sympathy for the little shit right now.
“Aust—” He went to speak, but I punched my hand out, pointed a finger, and ordered, “Home. NOW!”
Levi looked to Axel as if waiting for his permission. That just served to piss me off more, and I marched across the room until I towered over him. His eyes went huge and he fell back against the door in fear.
“Don’t you look at him and ignore me! You and me have shit to discuss, but right now, if you don’t get on home to look out for Mamma, I’m gonna knock you the fuck out and drag you there!”
Levi sprinted out the door, and I watched him go until I saw he was clear inside the trailer. Casting a glance around the park, there was no sign of Gio, so I slammed the Laundromat door and turned to face Axel.
“First, I defended you to Coach, only to find out he was right. You are dealing at my school. The dean is all over my ass over the snow being on campus! Then I find out you drafted Levi into the Heighters, pulling him into hell with you. But worst of all, you leave Mamma laying in her own piss and shit, the trailer like a fuckin’ bomb site, all so you can be Gio’s little bitch!”
Axel seemed to shake with rage and, reaching over to grab a plastic chair, proceeded to launch it against the wall until it smashed into several pieces.
He pointed in my direction. “You talk all mighty ’bout all this, kid, but where the fuck are you? Living the good life at some rich-ass college, eighty thousand folks on a weekly basis acting like you’re some damn messiah and in tight with cunts like Rome fuckin’ Prince—pussies with more money than God!” He walked to stan
d before me. “Where are you, kid? You here every day looking after Mamma, cleaning up vomit, or are you sitting in your cushy frat room, drinking beers and fuckin’ a line of Tide groupie sluts?” He prodded his finger into my chest and hissed, “I’m keeping this famiglia going, not you, superstar. You just remember that when you’re stomping through here on Heighter turf, letting your mouth fly.”
His words might as well’ve been a fuckin’ dagger. I stumbled backward until I hit the washer and ran my hands down my face.
He was right. I wasn’t doing shit to help out.
A hand suddenly wrapped around my neck, and I found myself crushed into Axel’s wide chest. He was hugging me…
Fuck.
Slumping forward, I let my head fall on his shoulder, and I just stood there, breathing, calming the fuck down. I may be taller and bigger now, but he was still my big bro. Still the only one able to shoot me down.
“Look, kid. You need to be at that school whether I like it or not. You’re our ticket out of here, outta this fuckin’ trailer park we call paradise. You’re our chance at a better life.”
I began shaking my head. “Fuck, man, y’all are right. I’m not doing shit for Mamma. I’m not contributing. It’s all on you and Levi, and it’s fuckin’ tearing me apart.”
Axel stepped back and, placing his hands on my cheeks, forced me to look at him. “Kid, you’re the one thing Mamma talks about. You, superstar, the football, the Tide. Her fuckin’ face lights up every Saturday when she watches you on the screen. She talks about how you’re gonna be some big success, how she can’t believe you’re her son, how talented you are. Says you remind her of her when she was young.” Axel shook his head. “Nah, kid. You’re staying at that damn fancy-ass school if I have to throw you back there myself, and you’re gonna get drafted to the NFL.”
Reaching up, I removed Axel’s hands from my face and took a step back. “You can’t deal on campus, Axe,” I said tightly. “It has to stop.”
“Got to, kid. The Kings have taken half our turf. We need to expand, branch out. I know I promised I’d never bring this shit your way, but that school of yours is a damn gold mine. Too many rich dumb-ass kids paying top coin for watered-down coke, E’s, weed—whatever the hell they can get their spoiled hands on.”
“Axe, you could pass for my damn twin. We look exactly the same. The dean finds out about you and the drugs on his campus, he’s gonna put that shit on me. Then we can kiss the NFL dream good-bye.”
He paused as though he were thinking shit through. “I’ll keep out of your way, keep low, no blowback for you. How ’bout that? Nothing’ll come back on you, kid. Te lo guiro.”
He swears it to me. I almost told him about the dean hauling that chick into his office tonight after he split, but fear of what he’d do to her had me holding my tongue. And I couldn’t get her tiny terrified face out of my mind.
“And Levi?” I asked, defeated. I felt drained of all my fight. If I couldn’t win this, I’d just have to put up and shut up.
Axel shrugged. “He stays with me. In the crew. I’ll watch out for him.”
“Axel, you need to get him out. This shouldn’t be his life. He’s only fourteen. He hasn’t got the guts, the mindset to live this kinda life.”
“We need the cash, kid. We all have our duties in taking care of Mamma. Yours in football, Levi and me dealing. Not ideal, but if we wanna keep the pain meds coming in, we gotta make bank somehow. That shit’s expensive. Damn sure, going straight and stacking shelves at the Piggly-Wiggly ain’t gonna cut it.”
As fucked up as it all had become, Axel was right. I couldn’t see another way out for us, and, after seeing Mamma tonight, she needed all the help she could get… even if the only way of getting it for her was corrupt.
“Look. How about Lev keeps dealing until…” Axel glanced away, holding back his sadness. Coughing, he eventually he said, “Until Mamma’s not here anymore. Then I’ll get him out.”
“How you gonna do that?”
Axel smirked. “Got you out, didn’t I?”
Exhaling, I nodded my head. Yeah he did.
Axel laid a hand on my shoulder. “Thinking it’s not gonna be too long now, kid. I know me and Lev haven’t been there as much as we should’ve, but caring for Mamma is now pretty much full time. She can barely walk, eat. Fuck, she can’t even take a shit without one of us propping her up. It’s bad, kid. Real fuckin’ bad.”
From what I saw tonight, it was painfully true. “Then we’ll take shifts. I’ll make time between school and football to do my part, sit with her some, clean her, feed her, take her to appointments. Just be there.”
Axel smirked and wrapped his thick arm around my neck. “Done. And it’ll be good to see you ’round here more. As long as you don’t swing for me again,” he said and grinned. But his humor soon dropped. “And Gio. I managed to cool the fucker down, but don’t push him too far. Last thing we need is him wanting you dead. Too many stupid fuckers in the crew wanting to earn his approval. They wouldn’t think twice about doing it. Then I’d end up killing them.”
I reluctantly agreed.
Axel chuckled at my cold, silent response and scrubbed his hand over my head. “Missed my little shit of a brother tagging along behind me and the boys. It’ll be just like old times before you ditched us for fame.”
That stopped me dead. “I won’t be going anywhere near the crew, Axe. I’m never dealing again. And when the day comes that Mamma no longer needs meds,”—I couldn’t bring myself to say “dies.” I couldn’t ever bring myself to voice those words out loud—“We’re all getting the fuck out of this life. Going legit. I don’t care how we gotta make that happen, but that’s how it’s gonna go down. Capisci?”
Axel didn’t say anything in response, so we walked back to the trailer in silence. For the first time in years, all three Carillo brothers were under one roof, making sure shit got done.
Chapter Seven
Lexi
Dear Daisy,
Weight: 97lbs
Calories: 1600
I’m terrified.
I’m not eating, sleeping, and I’m losing grip on my eating plan.
Austin Carillo is dangerous. This I now know.
My head is not focused. You know how I need control, but right now, it’s scattered and I have no routine. My calorie intake has dropped and my anxiety’s increased. I’ve also lost a pound. Dr. Lund will not be pleased.
I wish you were here.
I am not in a good place.
“Woo-hoo! Shake what your momma gave ya, girl!” Cass hollered from the stands of Bryant-Denny as I finished cheering the Crimson Tide Fight Song. She was sitting with Ally and a very embarrassed Molly. I couldn’t help but smile at Cass as she danced around Molly’s seat, whooping and hollering, blowing kisses at her. Rome Prince had just kissed her in public, mid-game, shocking us all to hell, making Molly the focus of the Jumbotron, and having the entire stadium believe she was his good luck charm. He played like friggin’ Peyton Manning after that kiss.
I think it was safe to say that Cass was right; something was definitely going on between those two.
The Tide was playing the Georgia State Panthers and only had three minutes left in the fourth quarter. They would take the win with ease.
“There, he’s doing it again,” Lyle said, an annoyed tone threading his voice as he nudged my arm, flicking his chin in Austin Carrillo’s direction. Carillo sat on the bench while the defense took the field. I’d seen him staring at me, in anger, most of the game.
I froze at Lyle’s words but didn’t look over. I’d managed to avoid Austin for two weeks. The Tide had been away in Arkansas, and I’d pretty much kept myself hidden, well away from Denny Chimes in the quad. I didn’t want to see any more drug dealing, was too afraid of the consequences if I did.
“Hey, are you listening to me!” Lyle asked.
“Yes! I can hear you. I’m just choosing to ignore it. I don’t care if he’s glaring at me. It doesn’t concern
me,” I said firmly.
The band began their next song, a four-rhythm beat, and Shelly called for the squad to dance routine eighteen. Jumping from side to side, clapping our pompoms in unison with the drums, Lyle shouted, “Well, you should be concerned! D’you not know his background?”
That almost made me falter, and I glanced at Lyle. “No. Why? What do you know?”
Stepping forward, we kicked a right-legged high kick and chanted a loud, “GO, TIDE, GO.” We quickly fell back into a side-to-side motion to repeat the routine once more.
Lyle leaned in again to whisper, “Well, as you know, I’ve been on this squad since freshman year, and, well, you hear things.”
“What things?”
I was desperate to know Austin’s background. I’d heard he was bad news, of course. The rumor mill was rife with that. Had no specifics, though.
“You heard of the Westside Height’s gang?”
My eyes widened and my feet faltered, causing me to stumble. I looked through the lines of cheerleaders in embarrassment, only to see Shelly glaring at me. I grimaced as she narrowed her eyes at me and mouthed, “Focus!”
As soon as she turned back around, I faced Lyle. “The gang from West Tuscaloosa that’s always on the evening news for drive-by shootings and drugs? That Westside Height’s gang? The Italians?”
Lyle nodded, eyes wide. “Yeah, the one and only.”
“You mean…?” I trailed off and almost missed the cue for the double front hurdler jump.
When we landed, Lyle continued as if he hadn’t had to take a break. “Yeah. Carillo’s a total gangbanger. His family’s in deep. Brother did time in juvie, Shelby County, I think. Heard Austin’s been arrested a few times too, Lexi babe. Carillo’s brother’s dangerous as all hell, and, honestly, I think Austin may be just as bad.”
This time I did stop. I completely stopped dancing.
Austin and his brother were Heighters? That meant… Lord! His brother was dealing… for the Heighters! My heart boomed like a canon in my chest, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.