Lawless - страница 3

Everyone was laughing, drinks were being filled and refilled. A fat swarthy-skinned man with his trousers pushed down was in a corner with a blonde woman between his legs, her mouth full of cock. Another man had a girl on his lap, squeezing a handful of naked tit. And another – ah, Jesus, there was Fabio! – he was lounging there with one of the women, a luscious nude brunette, nibbling at her neck, whispering in her ear.

Donato went straight over to him.

‘Fabio!’ said Donato. He was a cruel-eyed youngster, short, stocky, always up for a fight. Now, he looked like a kid who’d had his favourite toy snatched away. He looked like he was about to cry.

Fabio glanced up, still smiling, a curl of smoke coming from the cigarette held loosely in his hand. The voluptuous naked girl with him stared up at Tito’s boy with dead-eyed disinterest. With Fabio distracted, she raised her glass and took a long drink of champagne.

‘Donato?’ asked Fabio, half-smiling, thinking that he’d fuck the girl very shortly. She’d be only too happy to open her legs for powerful Tito’s handsome baby brother; they always were. Across the room was a large gilded mirror, and Fabio could see himself reflected in there: he’d been admiring himself all evening, his glossy black hair, his perfect nose, his olive skin. He was a very good-looking young man, and he loved mirrors.

‘Is Vittore here?’ asked Donato.

As if Fabio hadn’t been hearing that all his life! Is Tito here? Is Vittore here? Always looking over Fabio’s shoulder as they said it, searching for the older brothers, the ones that could be relied upon for good sense – never for Fabio, the youngest. It hurt him, every single time. Like it had hurt him when his mother and father took in his little sister, Bianca, a white-blonde miniature usurper, just three years old, who had instantly become the centre of his parents’ universe. He’d been seven when that happened, and for him it had been a disaster. At least, before she came along he’d been the youngest, the baby of the family. After Bianca arrived on the scene, what was he? Not even that, not any more.

‘Can you see Vittore here?’ snapped Fabio. Stupid cunt.

‘Fab, it’s Tito…’ Donato yanked out a chair and seemed to collapse into it. His face was bleached of colour. He looked like a man in turmoil.

‘What about Tito?’ asked Fabio impatiently when Donato said no more.

Donato’s eyes came up and met Fabio’s.

‘He’s fucking dead, Fab. He’s dead.’

Fabio felt time freeze. He looked at Donato. There were actual tears making tracks down Donato’s face now. Donato the hard nut. Not very bright. Not bright enough to see that he’d been made a patsy by two much smarter players, that was for sure. He was sitting there blubbering like a child.

‘What…’ Fab felt the smile, the one he had used to such effect on the girl – fuck knew what her name was – stall on his face. The smile stayed there, but the life had gone out of it. ‘What did you say?’

‘Tito’s dead,’ said Donato. And he told Fabio about it then, through sobs and hitches and gasps.

About halfway through, the girl got up. Fabio grabbed her arm. ‘Where you going?’ he asked.

‘I…’ she started.

Fabio yanked her back down.

‘Ow!’ she complained. People were turning, staring. Fabio still held her arm, crushing it.

‘No, you don’t run off and tell everyone the news like it’s a freak show,’ he said in a low voice. ‘You stay here.’

‘You’re hurting-’ she said.

‘You stay here,’ he said, and this time she remained silent. His returned his attention to Donato. He was thinking Tito, dead? No. Not possible.

Tito had been there all his life, an absolute and uncaring despot; ruling the roost after Papa went, with Vittore waiting in the wings, ready to take over when his turn came. Fabio’s turn at being head of the family was way off. It had been set in stone for so long, this fact, that Fabio had almost come to accept it. Almost. He’d always known he’d have to attend two funerals before his turn came. Two graves to stand by, and then all hail King Fabio! He’d always thought that, even as a small boy.