Friday, April 3rd at 6:54PM

“This is by-far the stupidest thing you’ve decided to do this week.”

“Oh, come on, Alyx,” Cade replied with a roll of his eyes. “Cat-calling the rival girls near the Upper West takes the cake for the stupidest thing I’ve done this week.”

Alyx hummed, shaking her head after a moment. Her cropped, dark, wavy hair swayed with the motion. At least, the side that wasn’t shaved close to her scalp. She, like him, wore a fitted leather jacket, sans labels or elaborate designs over her gray tee-shirt, matching his gray hoodie. Twins in clothing, but that was all, seeing how her coloring leaned toward a cooler, lemon-hue to his warm peach and flaunted cappuccino-brown hair and cognac eyes in contrast to his ashy blond and cobalt blue. 

“Nope,” she said. “Still pretty sure that you’re going to get your ass beat once we step inside. You know the Martellis hate your guts, right?”

“What? No…” Sarcasm bled into his tone, thinking of his arch nemesis likely waiting in the Martelli offices. He was probably cleaning his guns and carving Cade’s name into a single bullet at this very moment, as if he could sense his impending arrival. “Look, I just need to talk to Emilio for a sec, and then we’ll leave. Not a big deal.”

“Gee,” she said with mock excitement, “I can’t wait to find my way back home by myself once Emilio shoves you in his trunk and dumps you in the river.”

“Live a little, Lyx.”

She groaned, but he strode forward undeterred. His hand wrapped around the brass handle attached to the heavy, dark-stained oak door, and held it open for her. He trailed in behind, basking in the soft, warming lighting and rich, earthy tones of the cherrywood countertops and high-backed booths along the windows.

Cade sauntered up to the bar, sliding between two taller patrons who shot him irritated looks as he flagged down the bartender. “Hey! Emilio around?”

The bartender—a guy better suited as a gym junkie with a tight black tee-shirt and half-apron—narrowed his eyes at him. “Who’s asking?”

Cade chuckled. “You must be new here. I’m Cade Hart. I’m here to speak with Emilio. If I can’t speak with Emilio, I’m going to have to go home, explain that some large moron wouldn’t let me see him, and then my brother’s going to send someone else out here to knock some heads together.” He deliberately, calmly slid his hands into his jacket pockets, waiting for those two marbles in the tin can that was his brain to finally clink together. “So, are you going to take me to him, or not?”

After a moment, the guy hesitated, glancing from Cade to Alyx and back again.

“Vicente—”

Cade’s ears perked up, and he spun on his heel to face a man in a tie-less suit. The guy grimaced and ran a hand over his slicked-back black hair. “Never mind, just leave these two to me. We’ll talk later. Come on, Hart.” He turned, motioning for them to follow him to the end of the bar and into a curtained-off hallway.

“Hey Roman,” Cade said with a grin, bumping shoulders with him.

“Sorry about that,” Roman said. “We have a few newbies that don’t quite understand the ins-and-outs just yet.”

The glint of sports-league photographs and plaques followed them through the tunnel of half-stucco, half-wine-colored-wainscoting. “These new recruits up-state, out-of-state, or old-country?”

“Out-of-state. Extended family that wants to try their hand in New Atlas for a while. I doubt most of them will stick around for long. But you know Marco. He’ll use them up before they walk away.”

Oh, did Cade know Marco, all right…

“Little rough for family, huh?”

Roman glanced back with his hand on the door handle, cocking a brow. “Watch yourself. Marco’s been in enough of a mood as it is. You’ll have to suffer each other while Emilio finishes up another item of business. It should only take fifteen minutes.”

“Marco’s just waiting for an excuse to kick the shit out of me in a back alley anyway,” Cade replied with a smirk.

“Gee, I can’t imagine why,” Roman said dryly, shoving the door open.

A handful of fresh-faced Martelli crew members sat inside, some circled around the card table in the middle of the lounge while a few others hung along the walls with their phones. Cade counted eight, but he could only name four. However, Roman and Marco were the only two he honestly cared about. Roman was the one who kept everything running smoothly for Emilio, handling the day-to-day of their establishments, while Marco handled the more… unsavory portions of the business. Cade likened him to the snapping guard dog that wouldn’t hesitate to go for your jugular. 

Naturally, Marco looked the part too. He was a couple years over thirty, rough around the edges with scarred knuckles and cuts on his jaw that broke the seamlessness of his well-kept facial hair. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Vicente, but he was still just as bulky. The main difference was that he hid it well under a suit that wasn’t all that different from Roman’s.

“It’s been a while, Marco,” Cade said the second his eyes flicked up from the green felt of the card table.

His face immediately twisted into a snarl. “Get this little bitch out of here.”

“Marco, chill,” Roman said sharply. “He’s just here to talk to Emilio, and then he’s gone.”

“Oh, come on, Marco,” Cade said with feigned disappointment. “Don’t talk about my lady-friend like that.”

Marco glared daggers at him, Alyx hit Cade lightly in the side, shooting him a glare, and Roman put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it a little tighter than Cade had expected. “Now what did I just say about not starting shit?”

Cade bit into his cheek, holding his tongue until the hand was removed. He trailed behind Roman to the table, where his host collected his hand of face-down cards. Despite not being invited to play, Cade dropped into the seat next to Roman, giving Alyx a moment of pause before she took the seat on Cade’s other side.

“Want to deal us in after this?” Cade shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Seems we got some time to kill.”

Marco’s eyes narrowed at him, but Roman spoke instead. “Maybe.” He shot him a sideways glance. “If you’re able to keep your mouth shut until we say this one’s over, then Marco might be generous enough to let you play.”

Cade thought it was more likely for Marco to go find his gun instead, but he was willing to hedge those bets.

“Hey,” Roman called, half-turning to the wall as Marco and the nameless individual began to deliberate over their hands, “Angelo—Make yourself useful and get Hart and his friend some water.”

Angelo’s head jerked up from his phone with a start, nodded, and wandered off. He wasn’t gone for long though, returning soon after with four glasses, his fingers straining from how they were barely tucked into the rim of each one. Cade first, Alyx second, and Roman and Marco’s were set down in rapid succession as a sign of respect for not drawing out which of them might be third. The nameless player groaned, throwing down his cards and getting up from the table while fishing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

“See?” Roman said with a motion to Cade. “He can be quiet. He just chooses not to.”

“I like him better with his mouth shut,” Marco grumbled. “But this damn white boy still shouldn’t be allowed in here.”

“Well, that’s not very nice.” Cade mock scowled at him.

Marco slowly leaned forward, pointing at him from across the table with malice in his gaze. “If I were in Emilio’s shoes, I’d take a swing at that damn brother of yours.”

Cade scoffed. “Now who wouldn’t want to do that? Try living with him.”

Marco stared him down while Roman reshuffled the cards. He said nothing, though there was a glimmer in his eye that indicated he had liked Cade’s answer. Maybe he had finally earned some points with his nemesis and would live to see another day.

“Fake bets or real?” Roman asked, beginning to deal.

“Real,” Marco said without a chance for anyone to protest. “Make this brat pay some of his allowance toward that dinnerware Emilio wants.”

Cade loosed a laugh. “Go easy on me Marco, I’m broke.” He threw a twenty on the table, and Roman sighed, shaking his head slightly as if to say, ‘Lord, help me.’

Alyx jabbed him in the side under the cover of the table before she tossed out a five. “Stop it,” she hissed in his ear.

“Looks like your girlfriend isn’t so confident about her cards.” Marco nodded to her addition.

“I’m not his girlfriend.”

“Sounds like someone’s single,” someone called from the corner of the room—a guy with a toothy grin who practically sang the words. He started to get up from his seat like it was an open invitation.

Instead of speaking up to defend her, Cade hid his smirk, ducking away.

“Sounds like you’re a complete dumbass,” she said in a sickeningly sweet tone.

“What? A Hart too good for you?”

“I might actually be interested if either of them were women.”

He cleared his throat, awkwardly backing up a couple of steps, which got a chuckle out of Cade.

“That never gets old,” Cade mumbled, peeking at his cards and patting them back down against the felt.

“Everyone ready?” Roman asked. 

Alyx’s distraction finally gave her a quiet apology and took his leave down the hall leading outside. Roman flipped over the three cards in the middle. Cade hummed while the others began to raise their bets, though Alyx folded with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. He raised, deciding the press his own luck. Finally, one-by-one they flipped them over. Grinning, Cade revealed a straight flush, rewarding him with an eyeroll from Roman.

“Two four-of-a-kinds,” he said, lifting himself slightly out of the chair to collect his winnings. “I win. No hard feel—” His eyes went wide as someone grabbed the back of his jacket, forcing him back down to his seat.

“Pot goes to Marco,” a new voice echoed from behind him. Though Cade didn’t bother looking back, his eyes immediately fixed on the cards Marco had laid out in front of him. Two sixes.

“What?” Cade demanded, finally twisting around to take in Emilio. “How the hell does that make—”

He snapped his fingers, pointing to the middle of the table, where two more sixes lay face-up. “Sixes.”

Cade’s shoulders fell, his eyes rolling. “Oh, cute. I didn’t realize we were playing with special rules. I just got cheated out of a hundred bucks.”

Marco cut him a devious, satisfied grin at Cade’s sour expression, and Emilio tapped the back of his chair. “Come on, Hart. If you’re here to talk, then let’s talk.” He started toward his office, and with a frustrated sigh, Cade got up to follow. Alyx leaned back in her seat, waiting for him with crossed arms. He secretly hoped that she’d deal in again to win his money back, though he knew that she would keep it for herself even if she did.