Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
That was half the damn problem.
Michel needed something to really challenge him when it came to education. The fucking Academy was not doing it anymore. It didn’t matter—this time next year, he’d be in Detroit getting his shit together to start pre-med. He just had to make it through this last year of shit before he got there.
“Did you skip today?” he asked Andino.
The largest of the three cousins, although he wasn’t the oldest, nodded. “Yeah, I got better shit to do than listen to some white guy tell me about the history of America.”
Michel laughed. “They never tell it right, anyway.”
“Exactly.”
“Gonna loose your spot on the football team, won’t you?”
That did make Andino scowl. “Yeah, well ... whatever. What do you want to do today, anyway? John figured you’d have something for us to do. That’s the only reason we drove all the way over here to pick your ass up.”
“Right.”
His cousins grinned, and even Michel couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Michel didn’t have a lot of friends—sure, he knew a lot of people. He supplied his whole school when it came to drugs, for fuck’s sake. Some might consider him the most popular person just for that fact. Sure, he had people all around him. He didn’t consider a single of them to be an actual friend, though.
No, he reserved that for his family.
His cousins.
The only people he let fuck with him, really. Anyone else was liable to get a punch in the damn mouth. God knew Michel had his mother’s temper, and his father’s lack of patience for bullshit.
Or ... other people’s bullshit, anyway.
But that wasn’t the case when it came to his cousins. He didn’t mind any of their bullshit, and they never meant any harm. Besides, with Andino and John ... Michel didn’t have to be anybody else. He wasn’t the kid with the drugs in his locker to sell, or the bright student who could always answer every question. His last name didn’t meant shit to Andino and John because they had the same one as him, and that just meant they were family.
He could just be Michel.
He liked that a lot.
“Let’s get food,” Michel said.
“That all?”
“Is that ever all, John?”
His cousin smirked. “What else, man?”
“Food first, then we’ll go down to Odessa and walk along the docks. See who we can find down there.”
He didn’t expect to find anybody at the docks, but that was kind of the point. They’d figure something out once they got there. And if they didn’t, fuck it, fun usually found them, anyway.
A day with his cousins sounded better than sitting at home doing homework he already knew he was going to ace. It wasn’t like the teachers at the Academy actually gave a shit if he did his work or not, anyway.
God, Michel needed to graduate already.
*
John POV
John caught Andino smirking at a girl walking down below the docks from the corner of his eye. When the girl grinned back, Andino winekd and waved two fingers. Not even thinking about it, John struck out and punched his cousin right in the shoulder to get his head back on task.
“Ow, you stupid fuck,” Andino muttered, his attention back on John instead of the pretty piece of ass down below. “She was fuckin’ cute.”
“You’re fucking cute,” John replied. “What, are you gonna take a cab home when I leave your ass here because you decided to chase a pretty girl down the beach?”
“Might be better than listening to you the whole way.”
Michel snickered on the other side of John, but quickly quieted when he shot his other cousin a look.
“What did I miss?” Andino asked. “Michel and this Detroit shit, right?”
“He needs connections there, that’s all I’m saying.”
Michel sighed. “I don’t need connections, man.”
“First of all, you’re a Marcello.”
“You need some kind of connections,” Andino said, finishing what John didn’t say. “Even if it’s just to keep in the know, or have somebody to watch your back.”
John jerked a thumb in Andino’s direction. “Yeah, that right there. Exactly that, man. Nobody’s gonna be looking out for you there like they do here, all right. You need connections.”
“There’s a faction there. A syndicate of the Marcellos. I’m sure—”
“Somebody’s gonna need to make calls,” Andino put in.
“What if I don’t want connections?” Michel asked suddenly. “What if I just want to go to Detroit, focus on school, and say fuck the family business. It’s not like I’ve really been in it, you know what I mean? Not like you two are, anyway.”
John cleared his throat, and rested his arms along the railing of the docks. Michel wasn’t wrong ... he’d never been as hands-on or involved in business like he and Andino had been for the majority of their lives. It never caused an issue in their trio, but it was a fact. “Like at all?”