Rated M

Disclaimer – Not mine, I just make them do bad, bad things.
Much love and thanks to my beta-love, Carrie ZM
and to my pre-readers, Planetblue and Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy
for all the time and energy they've put into this fic.
Also, massive thanks to LaMomo for all the Italian translations.

Wednesday, March 14, 1956

11:32 PM

"How about James Callahan?" Glasses pushes his specks up. "Name sound familiar?"

"Nope."

He tilts his head. "Also went by Jimmy or Jimmy "Two Tons" to his associates."

I lean back in my seat. "I'm not familiar with anyone by those names."

Slick's knee is bouncing beneath the table and he's pinching the bridge of his nose, getting more aggravated by the second.

"How about now?" Glasses pulls out a mug shot and the cold, blue eyes of a smiling Jimmy Callahan stare back at me.

July 1954

"Is this new?" Bella asks, running her finger along the chrome of my new Mercury Monterey convertible while I hold the door open for her and God as my witness, I try my hardest not to check out her rack when she slips into her seat.

"Just got it yesterday." I bought it for a song from some poor schmuck car dealership owner who owes Felix a few grand.

"It's beautiful."

"So are you." I close her car door and watch the blush creep up her cheeks. "You okay with me leaving the top down?"

"Sure, let me just find my sunglasses," she says, which surprises me because most chicks are funny about messing up their hair. By the time I get the ice chest in the back and slide into the car, she's digging through her pocketbook and sighing loudly.

"Did you forget them?" She nods, and I pull my Ray-Bans off. "You can wear mine."

They're a bit big on her, but she smiles and wags the shades up and down on her face as I start the car. "How do I look?"

Young. She looks real young and fun and far too innocent for what I'd like to do with her. "Still beautiful."

Sliding the glasses down her nose, she gives me a wink. "Do I look like a movie star?"

I shake my head. "Movie stars have nothing on you, Bits."

Blushing again, she looks at her hands before reaching for the radio dial and tuning until she finds a station she likes. "Ooh, I love this song."

"What is this … song?" I catch myself, almost slipping and calling her music shit.

Shimmying in her seat, she grins at me. "Shake, Rattle and Roll." I stare blankly. "This song is the most."

"If you say so."

"What? You don't like this music?"

Somehow I think it might spoil the date if I tell her that this is garbage, not music, so I choose to keep my mouth shut and just drive. This works for about a block, when she turns down the radio and I feel her poke my arm.

"What?"

"Are you a square or something?"

"Me?" I ask incredulously, doing a double take to see if she's serious with that. "I'm no square."

Laughing, she reaches for the dial again and turns the so-called music back up. "If you say so."

Like I said – young.

"Madonna mi," I groan, closing my eyes and lying back on the blanket after lunch with my head resting just above her knees. "My stomach's going to burst, but that was stupendous, Bits."

She giggles. "You must've been starving."

I look up and lower my voice, although I don't think anyone can hear me over the sounds of the symphony in the park. "What? I'm serious."

Even squinting, it's hard to see her expression as she hovers above me with the sun filtering through the tree branches and shadowing her face until she slips my sunglasses over my eyes.

The corner of her mouth turns up and she deadpans, "It was a sandwich."

"It was delicious."

Humming, she runs her fingers through my hair. "Soppressata and mortadella with provolone really does it for you, huh?"

Just the sound of those words rolling off her tongue. "You have no idea."

Truth is ... she really does it for me. She's easy to talk to, smart, funny. The fact that she can put together a picnic spread that made me wonder if my mother had a hand in it is only a plus. Our upbringings couldn't be any different though with her growing up as daddy's little debutant, and me, the underworld's prodigal son. Even on paper, she's a Tribune society page feature, and I'm a Sun Times crime headline.

I'm not good for her, but I have a feeling we'd be spectacular together.

Her nails softly scratch my scalp. "Tell me about Cuba."

So I do. I tell her all about beautiful beaches and hot Havana nights at the Club Casablanca, but I leave out the stories of showgirls and gambling and stuffing bodies into huge sugar sacks for Momo. She gets star-struck when I tell her about all the famous people I've seen and the few I've met. I don't have the heart to tell her the circumstances I met them under since I doubt she'd want to know her favorite actor has a fondness for fast cars and even faster women.

"What about you? What's your tale, Nightingale?"

Grinning, she takes a quick swig of wine from the bottle and I apologize again for forgetting the wine glasses. Here I thought I was on the ball remembering the corkscrew, lucky for me she's a good sport about it. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Smiling, she ruffles my hair. "Be more specific."

"Fine, what do you do for fun?"

"You mean besides fundraising for my father's re-election and keeping up with my mother's social calendar?"

"Yeah."

"Not much." She shrugs and takes another pull from the bottle. "Between nursing school and clinical rotations at the hospital, I don't have much of a social life these days."

"I don't believe that for a second, Bits. What about that doc castin' an eyeball at me from the operatin' room the other day?"

She laughs loud enough that we hear a few shushes from the people around us. "We didn't end up going after all." Quirking a brow, I wait for her to elaborate. "He thought maybe you were staking your claim."

I reach for her hand and gently slide my fingers between hers. "And what if I was?"

"Well," she muses with a smile as her eyes flicker from our joined hands to meet my gaze. "I think I'd like that."

"Now this is music, Bits," I tell her, turning up the radio so she can hear it over the breeze off the lake whipping through the open windows. She sighs and nestles into my side as I put my arm back around her.

"Sinatra, huh?" Her fingers softly stroke mine against her shoulder. "I do like this one."

"Does that make you a square like me?"

I feel her body shake with quiet laughter and then her lips at my ear. "You're no square."

We take the long way home, cruising through downtown so she can show me her favorite spots and all the things that have changed since I've been gone. She's hardly subtle; squeezing my hand and giving me the eyes when she drops hints about the places she wants me to take her. Dinner, dancing, and nights on the town, she's letting me know that a girl like her needs to see and be seen.

"You'd love this place my buddy owns. It's a nightclub over on Rush," I say real casual and loll my head in her direction. "The Black Orchid?"

"I've always wanted to go."

"You've never been?" I nudge her arm to which she mouths a 'no' and shakes her head. "Well that's a shame, Bits. Looks like I'll have to take you there sometime."

Beaming now, she scoots closer. "I'd love that."

"Here we are," she says when we finally reach her building. Letting go of my arm, she steps up onto her stoop and fishes through her pocketbook for her keys. "I had a great time today."

"So did I." I step closer. "I'd like to do it again."

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. "Me too."

Before I can stop myself, the backs of my fingers are brushing her cheek and she's leaning into my touch.

"Good night," I whisper, inching closer until our foreheads are touching. I watch as her eyes flutter closed and those full pretty red lips slightly part.

Soft and slow, my mouth moves against hers, lingering longer and deepening with each pass. I pull back a little, not wanting to get too fresh. This girl's not like the others I've been with who were either looking for a handout or a leg up. She's a good girl – the kind you bring home to mom and make your wife.

Opening her eyes, she sweeps her tongue across her bottom lip then smiles. "Again," she breathes before rising up on her tiptoes and capturing my mouth once more. This time our lips are moving together in ways that are neither sweet, nor chaste and she's driving me wild, raking her fingers through my hair and gripping it tightly.

My hand slips down her back and snakes around her waist, pressing her firmly to me. Her body stiffens and I can't be sure if it's because she can feel all of me against her, or if she's embarrassed by the jokers from across the street, wolf-whistling and hollering at us.

This time she pulls away.

"I should probably go," she pants, tracing her thumb down my jaw. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Mass, dinner with the family, maybe a ball game with my uncle. "Nothing important, why?"

"I was thinking about maybe," she says, smoothing the back of my hair down, "going to North Avenue Beach tomorrow. Some of my friends are going to be there, but … "

"But?"

She toys with my collar for a moment before peeking up at me. "I think I'd like to spend more time with you."

I press a quick kiss to her lips. "Anything you want, Bitsy."

"Gentlemen," Uncle C greets us when he walks into Felix's club, flanked by Emmett and Sal.

It's Wednesday, his most and least favorite day of the week. Tribute comes in from all over the city. The capos stand to greet him with their fat envelopes in hand. Unfortunately, in addition to those envelopes, they also have issues to discuss with him.

Philly Neri doesn't stand. Instead he holds court with a bunch of fellas from McKinley Park. Lowlifes, really. None of them stand either; they just crowd the bar, laughing and talking loudly. That's blatant disrespect in my eyes.

I walk over to the bar to grab a drink for my uncle and me. Lou gives me a nod. He's an old timer who worked for my father. Now he tends bar for Felix in the afternoons and serves as a lookout on Wednesdays. "What can I get you, Eddie?"

"Two scotches."

"You got it."

Carlisle heads into the back room and snaps his fingers in Philly's direction to get his attention. Philly can barely conceal his murderous glare, his lips twisting into a tight line before rearranging his features to his normal smarmy smile.

I follow him into the room with my uncle, Emmett, and the rest of the capos and take a seat at the table. There are several conversations going on all around me, but my mind isn't here in this room, it's still on North Avenue Beach, rubbing Coppertone onto sun-kissed shoulders and sneaking smooches on a blanket in the sand.

Placing my hat on the top of my knee, I cross my leg and relax into the seat before checking my watch. Someone from Mrs. Cope's flower shop should be delivering a bouquet to Bella in the next few minutes. After meeting some of the people she runs around with, I figure I need to step up my game to keep her interested. Not that I'm intimidated by them, I just don't want her to think I can't compete with younger guys or the ones like her girlfriends date, who only drive imported cars and all have roman numerals behind their surnames.

"Let's get started," my uncle interrupts my thoughts, standing at the head of the table. "Any old business to discuss?"

Sammy raises two fingers and opens his mouth to speak, but Philly cuts him off abruptly. "Uh, no offense kid," he says to me, nodding towards the door. "This is a private meeting for ranking members only."

"I want him in on this." My uncle waves him off. "Go on, Sam."

But Philly doesn't relent. "All due respect, Carlisle. This ain't the place for–"

"Did I ask you?" Uncle C asks, spacing his words out condescendingly. "Did I request your counsel on this matter?"

"No. I'm just–"

Pissed now, my uncle dips his head in Philly's direction. "You're outta line."

Phil jerks his chin at me. "You even made your bones yet, kid?"

Leaning forward, I feel the predatory smile spread across my face, wanting the malicious intent of my words to be clear. "Not yet."

The words are barely out of my mouth before he's up on his feet, teeth bared and a menacing finger pointed in my direction. "You listen here, ya' little shit–"

"Sit down!" Uncle C orders, slamming his hand down on the table twice and motioning to Aro to help Philly find his seat. Glaring, Philly brushes Aro off and slumps down in his chair. "Where were we?"

Philly stews the entire meeting, staring at the amber-colored liquid in his glass through narrowed eyes. I want to laugh, but my uncle has me sitting in for a reason. I listen without speaking, watching, and learning the ins and outs of our thing. Once all new and old business is discussed, grievances are aired and beefs are squashed, we're dismissed, but not before each of the capos kick up tribute to Carlisle.

Philly's frown disappears when he gathers all the envelopes, piling them neatly in front of him. I stand to leave when I hear my uncle snap his fingers again.

"Give me and my nephew a minute, will ya', Phil?"

Philly motions to the money. "I gotta get this–"

"Edward will count it. Go grab a drink or two, and we'll sit down with the boys from McKinley Park in a bit." Phil shakes his head and pushes off the table, his chair loudly scraping across the floor, but he doesn't speak nor does he look at us. When he's gone, my uncle rounds the table and motions for me to sit back down. "You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

With a shrug, I side-step the question. "Like you said, he was outta line."

"He was, but that doesn't mean you can threaten him." He takes the seat beside me and steeples his fingers on the table. "Level with me, Edward. Do we have a problem here?"

Normally, I'd advise a non-ranking member to tread lightly and keep his fucking mouth shut. Too bad I don't follow my own advice. "Somethin' ain't right there, Uncle C."

"What do you mean?"

I lean in, speaking barely above a whisper. "You ever wonder if he had somethin' to do with it?"

Carlisle crosses arms over his chest and shakes his head a bit. "You sound just like Aro."

"I'm serious. I know he did." I tap my temple. "Think about it. How did he know who pulled the trigger? Huh? How did he get such a good look and not a scratch?" My uncle's tilts his head, seeming to consider my words. I poke my chest. "And then to sit there watchin' him at my father's funeral, actin' like people should bow down."

"Nah." He dismisses it, wagging his finger at me. "You got it all wrong. He loved your father and he made sure that we stomped out every single member of that crew."

"Of course he did, coverin' his ass."

Loud voices erupt from the bar and the door bursts open as Benny, Aro, and Sammy are restraining a livid Emmett and forcing him back into the room. My uncle and I are both on our feet in an instant, and I see his hand reaching for his piece.

"Lemme go! Lemme go!" Emmett yells, struggling against their hold. "Get the fuck off me!"

"You're dead! You're fuckin' dead, you bum!" I hear Paulie shouting before I see him when I rush into the bar. He's going just as wild as Em, but Felix has him pinned against the stage. He's seething, practically foaming at the mouth, staring down the large blond guy being dragged out the front door by Mikey and a few guys that were sitting by the bar.

"I'm right here," the blond taunts, laughing and waving for them to come get him even though he's already bleeding from his mouth and nose.

"Get him outta here!" Carlisle booms as he comes through the back room doors, holding his gun loosely at his side. He stands there until the riff-raff's gone, then turns to Paulie and Felix. "What the fuck happened in here?"

The doors from the back room slam open and a fuming Em stomps out, a finger pointed at Philly. "Name!" Backing up, Philly shows his palms. "Gimme his fuckin' name!"

"Jimmy," Mikey answers for his father as he walks back into the bar. "That's Jimmy Callahan."

"Somebody better answer me!" My uncle's voice echoes throughout the space. "What the fuck happened?"

"He made a comment," Paulie pipes up from behind Felix. "About Em's missus." My uncle raises an eyebrow. "I happened to be closer, so I smacked him in the mouth a couple of times." I watch my uncle step forward to quietly confer with Paulie, his fists clenching and jaw tightening as he listens.

"Edward," Em calls, motioning for me to follow him into the back room. He sits at Felix's desk, opening and slamming drawers and growing more frustrated by the second. Furious when he can't find what he's looking for, he flips the desk and starts tossing everything in his path, cursing loudly.

I say nothing, just stand there and let him tear this place apart. The last time I saw Em like this was right after high school when he found out some punk got fresh with our younger cousin Angela. Em had Angela call the guy, make like she wanted to see him again. When the guy showed up for the date, Emmett met him at the door with a tire iron and a smile. My father and uncle were pissed they had to grease a few palms to make that little problem go away, but all in all they were impressed by my cousin's handiwork.

"Dagli una lezione," Carlisle calmly advises, walking into the room behind me and I couldn't agree more. Emmett needs to make an example of this prick.

Pacing now, Em nods slightly at his father's words and slams his fists down on the table. Struggling to compose himself, he drops his chin to his chest and rests his weight on his knuckles.

"Do you want Aro to pay him a visit?"

"No," Em grits out roughly. "Not Aro." He raises his head and I see a sinister grin stretch across his face. "You ready to make your bones, Eddie?"

A/N: Happy Birthday to my boo, beta, bestie – the lovely Carrie ZM.

Tonight we have a couple fab fic recs

Swifter Than the Stars by Belladonnacullen - *Carrie and Lay twirl 'round and 'round, fangirl flailing* Once upon a time there was a girl who met a boy. She didn't want to leave home. He never wanted to go back to his. Together they discover more about themselves than they ever could have imagined alone. About stars, science, souls and young love.

The Siren's Curse by aushapasha - *Lay dons a seashell bra and dives in to this awesomeness* A crime. A curse. A beautiful siren compelled to kill. Bella's bloodlust won't be slaked until she's slain the entire lineage of the men who wronged her. Including the last Cullen. AU, Canon Couples

Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed, fav'd, rec'd, tweeted, or lurked this fic! I'll see you next Thursday!