Part 5:
A:
"What the hell?" Kyle asked looking down at a stunned Michael who had landed on the floor.
Michael, standing up and brushing himself off, grew very angry. "I so what to choose you off right now, dude."
"Man, I'm not in the mood for this. Don't start anything because you're gonna get me really hacked. I'm just gonna flake off and leave you there, dig?" Kyle looked straight at him, awaiting his answer.
Michael closed his eyes, ground his teeth, and clenched his fists. At his lack of response, Kyle began walking away. Finally opening his eyes, Michael ran full speed after Kyle and tackled him into a parked car.
"Damn it . . . you, . . . kis- . . .-see," was all Kyle could huff out while Michael pummeled his stomach. Finally, Michael, exhausted and hands bruised, stopped and allowed Kyle to slide down to a sitting position while leaning against the car. Michael sat down next to him as both men attempted to catch their breath. Each felt oddly comfortable in the other's presence—as if the physical bout had torn down their social barriers and strong disdains of each other for the time being.
"What . . . the . . . hell . . . was that . . . for?" Kyle gasped as he held his stomach. "I mean I know I've been an ass to you sometimes, but shit . . . didn't know you could do that."
Michael couldn't help but smile as Kyle patted his knee twice. He was out of breath also and was trying to sort his thoughts. Before he even knew it, Michael answered, "Maria."
"What?" Kyle asked while sitting up straighter. The mention of Maria's name had caused a noticeable reaction in Kyle that Michael saw. The peaceful air between them now grew tense.
"You know exactly WHAT, or rather WHO, I'm talking about. Maria. Maria DeLuca. Or I guess she's better known to you as Maria Valenti, right? She's your wife, RIGHT?" Michael's voice had risen to an unbearably loud level and Kyle's face contorted with obvious pain.
"Shhhh," Kyle pleaded as he placed his finger to his lips and proceeded to get up. Looking down at an enraged Michael, Kyle simply ended the conversation with, "Michael, you don't know what you're talking about," and walked back toward the Crashdown.
"Really? Well then, why don't you enlighten me?" Michael stood, waiting for Kyle's explanation.
"I'm sorry, but that's classified information, Mr. Guerin," Kyle responded without turning around.
"Why you little bas-" but Michael cut him own self off by running at Kyle for the second time in the past ten minutes and throwing him through the glass doors of the café.
"Michael!!" a feminine voice from somewhere in the café yelled.