Jack set her tray down then plopped into the chair with a groan, her body slumping back.

"Ugh..."

"Stop whining." She didn't bother to open her eyes and glare at Scott when he sat next to her, his chair scraping gently against the linoleum floor.

"Shut up." She mumbled then jerked when he kicked her chair, "You're such an asshole." He gave her a dirty look before picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"You're a dumb ass, Dipshit."

"Stop calling me that." Jack said half heartedly as she grabbed her own sandwich then took a bite.

"No."

"Yes."

"Shut up."

"Make me." Scott jabbed her in the side while she took a drink from her bottled water causing her to spit it out across the table. One of the cooks gave her a dark look as he walked past.

"What'd you do that for?!" Jack hissed, quickly grabbing napkins to mop up the mess while Scott went on eating.

"You're a pain in the ass." He took a swig of his own water and ignored the icy glare she sent him.

"You aren't the easiest to deal with yourself." Scott didn't reply and they fell into silence, their elbows occasionally fighting for control over the table edge until they finished their meal to sit quietly. Jack yawned then peered at him from the corner of her eye.

"Was your mentor an ass too? Do you have to keep up the tradition or something?" Scott leaned back, crossing his legs at the ankles as he looked at the table, his eyes far away.

"He was." Jack waited and when nothing else came, she nudged his thigh with her knee.

"And? Can you tell me more about him? We've been together for five months and I don't know anything about you." He blinked then turned his face to her, "I don't even know why you joined the Mafia. How old were you when you did?"

"Twenty four."

"Okay now why did you join? Money, glory, honor...?" She gestured for him to fill in the blanks and he clenched his jaw for a second before answering.

"My younger brother, Micheal, got mixed up with a family..."

There was banging on the front door and he rolled over to squint at the clock. Who the fuck would be knocking at three in the morning? Throwing back his covers, Scott got out of bed to walk through the cold hallway and into the living room, the door vibrating from the force of the blows.

"Hold your fucking horses!" He yelled as he flipped the locks then opened the door with a growl, his eyes going from the man's face to the badge on his chest. In that split second, he knew. The officer didn't even have time to open his mouth before Scott's knees gave out and he hit the welcome mat, his lifeless eyes staring past the cop into the street. Micheal...

At the station, down in the morgue, Scott made himself take deep breaths and ignore the smell of blood and formaldehyde as he stood next to the steel table draped with a white sheet. The doctor grasped the edge of it then pulled it down so that Micheal's pale, lifeless face was visible.

"Is this your brother, Mr. Ropoza?" He smacked the doctor's hands away to yank the sheet down revealing Micheal's naked body. Holes. Torn flesh. Pale skin. They'd turned him into the human version of Swiss cheese.

"What exactly happened?" Scott choked as his wide eyes darted to the officer by the door.

"Sir we can't-"

"FUCKING TELL ME!" He screamed bringing his fists down on the table, "They murdered my brother! I want to know WHY!" The officer huffed.

"From what we know, your brother was a runner for the Belltera family. He was abducted by a rival family and held hostage. What the other family didn't know was your brother was carrying two million worth of uncut diamonds." The officer gestured to the neat slice that ran from Micheal's groin to mid-belly. "The Belltera went to retrieve the jewels and in the process, they killed everyone in the household." Scott looked back at his younger brother's lifeless face, tears swimming in his dark blue eyes.

"They murdered their own man. They murdered him for fucking rocks!?" He whispered through a tear thickened throat as he leaned against the table, "Fuck...Micheal. I told you...I told you to stay away from that damn it, I told you." His sobs echoed in the small, steel room as his body curled in on itself until his forehead rested against the death cooled cheek of his sibling.

"Mr. Ropoza...It's time to leave." The officer said gently when he stepped forward to grasp Scott's elbow. Scott cupped the blood matted strands of dark gold hair and placed a kiss to his brother's temple.

"I won't let this go." He whispered then straightened.

"Sir please leave it to the police to-"

"Go fuck yourself." Scott snarled before shoving past the officer to leave the cold, lifeless room.

"You're pathetic." Parisi sneered while he watched the younger man heave his guts out onto the concrete, the body of his first kill steaming in the damp night air, "You can't handle this shit. Get the fuck out." Smoke curled past his lips as he spoke, the soft glow of the cigarette casting a reddish light in his black eyes. Scott's hand clutched around the dull blade he'd been forced to use as another wave of nausea slammed into him but all that came out was sour spit.

"No." He rasped.

"You don't have what it takes, Dumbfuck."

"I do." Parisi stepped across the short distance to bring his boot up then grind it down on Scott's hand.

"No. You don't. A real killer doesn't puke after he does his job. He moves on. Sissy."

"Shut up." Scott yanked his hand away, twisting to sit on the concrete and stare up at his mentor, "You don't know fucking shit about me."

"I know why you're here, Dumbfuck. Revenge is one hell of a motive but it won't last forever. It's gonna cool like your brother," Rage lit up like flames in Scott's eyes, "And you'll be left with nothing but a bloody knife and no future. Get out now." He tried to get to his feet only for the older man to shove him back down.

"Fuck. You. Fuck you and your fucking lessons and your fucking remarks and fuck this!" He threw the knife at his mentor's feet, his arms stretching out in a bring it on pose, "Fuck you, Parisi. You can stop teaching me. Get me kicked out of the Cavallone. Put me on a fucking hit list but I will not fucking quit. I won't let my brother's murderers get away with it. I'll fucking learn what I need and I'll kill them. I'll fucking kill. Every. Last. One." Parisi reached into his suit jacket and drew out one of his Glocks. Scott didn't back down as the muzzle was placed against his forehead. The pair were still, their eyes locked for several minutes before Parisi smiled and lowered the gun, the silver flames etched along the barrel gleaming in the moonlight when he slapped it gently against Scott's cheek.

"Well if you won't quit then here. You'll be needing this." He took a long drag of his cigarette after Scott took the gun, holding it in both hands, "Use it like we'll use you and everyone will win in the end. Now get off your ass, Dumbfuck. We've got work to do."

Looking up from his bottle of vodka, Parisi raised a brow at Scott as he stepped into the dim room then leaned against the door, his eyes hollow.

"Well?" Parisi picked up the full shot glass by his hand, "Did you finish it?" The young blond man nodded, the Glock in his hand trembling.

"It's done. I killed the last of them."

"The boss'll be proud to hear that." Parisi held the shot up in a salute, "Welcome to the Cavallone, Dumbfuck." He tossed it back with a hearty sigh then refilled the stout glass again. Scott stared at the floor.

"What do I do now?" He whispered and Parisi stopped with the glass to his lips.

"What the fuck do you mean? You stay with the family. You kill people." He takes out the matching Glock and lays it on the table, "And when the Reaper comes for ya, you take your last drink," He tosses the vodka back, "Your last smoke," A quick drag of the cigarette held between his fingers, "And you die." Scott eyes lifted to his mentor's.

"Yeah...you're right." Parisi rolled his eyes as he pushed out the chair next to him.

"Sit your fucking ass down and have a drink." He pours another full shot then slides it over when Scott sits. They look at each other when Scott grabbed the small glass, "You make me proud." Parisi said gruffly before clapping him on the shoulder, "Now take that shot like a man and there better be no fucking coughing afterward!"

Jack stared at Scott, her mouth open.

"I...You didn't have to...Jesus..." He pierced her with a hard look.

"By the way, Dipshit, I was never a mentor until you entered the program. I asked that I never become one either yet Romario saw something in you." He jabbed her shoulder with a finger, "And figured we'd be good for each other." Jack sat in silence for a moment before chuckling darkly.

"Someone has to replace you when you kick it, old man. Not my fault I'm the only one bad ass enough to do it." Scott scowled.

"Well ain't you special?"