Page 2 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

“Thanks for sending a package to the prison for me to have clean, decent clothes to come out with today,” John said.

Gio shot his nephew a look. “I didn’t send anything, John.”

“Who did?”

“Your father. He sent it up a couple of weeks ago, so you would have a suit to wear today. He thinks about you even when you’re not thinking about him.”

John wished that made him feel something, but all he got was a twinge in his chest that reminded him of how detached he truly was. It had always been this way for him. He never felt at home; he always looked at the people around him like he was on the outside looking in.

“So, what is your next week looking like?” Gio asked.

“Nothing unusual. I have to check in with the probation officer. Three years of that nonsense should be fun.”

Gio laughed. “Or we could just pay the fucker off.”

John scowled. “Bribing people was one of the reasons I spent three years behind bars instead of the one year it would have been, Zio.”

“Yeah,” Gio said, wincing. “You’re right. Better to let it lie.”

Attempted bribery of officials to drop the charges he faced. Possession of an unregistered weapon. Discharging an unregistered weapon. Assault on a police officer. Actually, several police officers.

The charges had racked up one after the other on John. Before he knew it, a five-year term slammed down on him with the bang of a judge’s gavel. Not even his family’s money, status, or connections had been able to get him out of that one.

John was pretty sure his father and uncle, Dante, had a bit of a hand in it all. To Lucian, John was out of control. Or rather, out of his father’s control. He didn’t always follow the rules. He liked to do things his way, which wasn’t always the Marcello way.

Wherever John went, trouble usually followed.

Lucian had said more than once that it was time for John to grow the fuck up. John supposed he finally had, in a way.

He just wished his father hadn’t let him take a five-year rap to get his head straightened out. Thankfully, John served his time in three years with good behavior and probation for the foreseeable future, but it still stunk like shit no matter which way he looked at it.

“Hey,” Gio said.

John fell out of his troubled thoughts and gave his uncle the attention and respect the man deserved.

That was the Marcello way.

It was a rule John didn’t mind following.

Respect and honor.

Always.

“What?” John asked.

“What do you want to do right now?”

“We’ve got a party to make it to, don’t we?”

“Fashionably late is the thing or so I hear,” Gio replied. “Just tell me something you’d like to do, John.”

“A beer. I’d like to have a beer.”

Gio chuckled. “Are you supposed to with—”

“It’s fine. One won’t kill me.”

“I think we can manage that without Dante sending people out looking for us.”