Chapter Twenty-Nine
No matter how many times Francis said no, Rochelle continued to bother him, "What do you have to hide?"
"What does it matter?" Francis finally asked after a long pause.
"I-" Rochelle chewed on her lower lip, "We don't know much about Nick. Maybe this can help us have a better understanding."
"And what if I don't know anything?" Francis asked.
"I highly doubt you would agree to do this just for money; it sounds to me like you're risking a lot. If Marco went after Nick after breaking a deal, then he will surly go after you for having a part in this." Rochelle thought quickly, hoping that would get him to talk. "Look, if you're afraid of an embarrassing past, then I can assure you I wont tell." She reached out her hand and put it on his shoulder gently.
Francis shrugged her hand off, "He won't find me. It was just a coincidence that I was in Chicago when you guys arrived." He scratched his head, looking as if he were trying to dig back into his old memories. "I guess I can give you embarrassing information on Nick."
Rochelle stopped herself from smiling, wondering how far back he would go, and if she really would be able to finally understand Nick.
"I knew Nick since high school. He was fifteen and I was seventeen." Francis looked at her, "Don't talk about my age, because I still look younger than him."
"I can see some crow's feet." Rochelle smiled softly at him, "But I'm sure you're not that old."
Francis looked away quickly, paying attention to the road. "Women make us older than we appear, so that's his story."
"And you're just a lone wolf?" Rochelle asked.
"Are we talking about Nick or me?" Francis said in a snippy voice. He didn't care about giving out information on Nick, but his personal life was his own business. She was lucky he was even telling her this story.
Rochelle looked away, going quiet and waiting for him to continue.
"He skipped a grade and ended up in my class." Francis continued the story, "He was small and thin, and he always wore over-sized clothes that never fit him right. He became an easy target."
"Hey kid." A tattoo-less Francis stood with his arms crossed, a group of boys behind him. He looked bigger then all the other boys, giving him the upper hand and assuring that no one would go against him.
"Not again Francis, I don't have any time to do your homework. Adding numbers is not that hard." Nick opened his locker, casually putting what belongings he had inside. He knew better by now, but he was always quick to respond, which was what would always get him into trouble.
Francis clenched his teeth together; he didn't need the others knowing that he got help from someone younger. Sure, others cheated, but it was different to Francis. He didn't want to appear to be an idiot. He just didn't care for school, he felt no need for it.
"It's almost as if you like the taste of toilet water." He muttered through his teeth.
"Not at all." Nick smiled nervously, "Maybe... Maybe we can come to some sort of compromise?"
"Alright." Francis grabbed the back of Nick's shirt, "Dumpster or toilet?"
Even at this age, Nick was good at keeping calm, hiding most of his emotions, his disappointments. He didn't want to let them win; seeing him flinch, cry, or even break a sweat would only give others the upper hand, and he couldn't let them have that. Even if he didn't win.
"Dumpster is fine." He said quietly, keeping his head up.
Francis smirked, shoving Nick with ease.
"You bullied him!?" Rochelle whispered harshly, not wanting to wake Coach.
"Calm down, that was just how it started." Francis chuckled, "You're such a hot head, you know that?"
"Just recently..." Rochelle grumbled.
"It's kind of cute, but I still don't like it-"
"Just continue the story." Rochelle cut him off, blushing lightly. All of her emotions felt out of control; she couldn't help it.
Francis laughed, "Fine, fine, let me just skip the tormenting. I'll jump to meeting Marco."
"You enjoy dumping your classmates into dumpsters?" Marco asked, holding a cigarette between his fingers. His clothes weren't as nice back then as the ones he wore in the present, and he even smoked a cheap brand of cigars.
"Fuck off." Francis had stayed behind when the other kids ran off for the bell. He didn't really care if he was late. "Go bother some other kids, you perv."
Marco laughed softly, "Then I guess me offering you a drink will sound really bad coming from someone my age?" He watched Nick pull himself out of the dumpster.
"Yes, but then again, that question wasn't directed towards me?" Nick did his best to brush off as much of the garbage with his hands as he could, not even realizing what he had said. He really needed to keep himself in check; if he continued like this, he might not make it far.
"You too kid." Marco said, "I bet you're smart. Hence your misfortune of ending up in a dumpster."
"Anyone would assume that, since it's either that or you're bullied because you're different." Nick shrugged, "I really-" He smelled his shirt, "-Should get to class."
Marco smiled to himself, "How would you boys like to make some easy money?"
This really perked Francis' interest. No one knew it, but he was working late nights to help his mother pay bills. She didn't know; she just thought he was always sleeping over at a friend's house. If he had more time, then he wouldn't have bothered Nick with his homework, but he was too embarrassed to let anyone know that his father was a deadbeat and his mother was left with all of the bills.
And just the sound of it, easy money... it sounded more promising than what he had at the moment. "Whatever." He smiled, nodding his head to make sure the older man understood he had agreed.
No one had ever talked to Nick about strangers, and even though his conscious was telling him to just walk away, Nick saw this as a chance. Money always seemed short, and money was always what caused so much trouble in his life. Nick needed new clothes, he needed food money, he needed school books. It didn't take long for him to quickly respond after Francis, "I'm in too."
"Very well, follow me." Marco let the cigar drop, using the tip of his shoe to kill it out. Even with his worn shoes, the man looked so elegant. Maybe he had had money at one point, and it was just starting to run low. It had Nick curious, and starting to wonder if this was even a good idea, going with a stranger to make easy money. It all sounded so stupid. But there was something adventurous about this that made the two boys continue to follow behind, quickly and eager to learn more.
"He has to be at least in his mid-twenties." Nick thought quietly as he watched the older man. "Hopefully he's not a psycho." Now sitting in the back seat, it was too late to turn back. The two had crossed the point of no return, and neither of them felt terrified. Maybe a little nervous, but Marco kept them calm with small talk and a soft smile.
As he listened to the smooth jazz, Nick let himself sink into his seat, the smell of leather and the feel, it made him feel rich.
"You two must really need cash to have agreed so quickly." Marco stopped at a light, pulling out another cigar and lighting it.
"We're not the only ones who seem desperate." Nick said quietly, "They will kill you, you know." He looked out the window, wishing he could work up the nerve to open it. The smell of smoke was starting to choke him.
"It's my greatest vice, kid." Marco smiled, "Don't you have one?"
"My name's Nick." He looked back, "And I have no vice sir."
"I'm Francis. And I guess you could say mine is pushing that wuss around. Maybe then he'll start acting like a real man." He laughed.
"Says the guy with a girl's name." Nick snapped lightly, starting to grow tired of being seen as a weakling.
"Shit, you really are pissing me off today." Francis smacked the back of Nick's head.
"You're both going to have to get along if you want to make money." Marco chuckled, looking in the rear-view mirror. "Good thing that's an easy obsession to brake, because I'm going to need you to keep him safe."
"And you both just trusted him? He could have been a murderer." Rochelle frowned, "Even back then, he was an idiot."
"Will you just let me finish?" Francis narrowed his eyes at her, "He really wasn't trying to take advantage of us, well not in any type of creep way at least." He waited to make sure she was going to stay quiet before starting again.
"Marco had a plan. He couldn't gamble anymore because people started recognizing his face. They knew better than to play against him. He needed someone with a more trusting face, someone that could be taken advantage of. Someone that could turn the tables at the last minute. We didn't know this; we just were both so eager to get this so-called 'easy-money.'" Francis said, "He tricked us, and we were both so young and naive, new to the world of dirty money and lies. Even later, when he took us out to do simple bets, we would end up with fifty bucks and be happy. He'd make more, since he didn't have to split with anyone, and the winnings just kept growing. But he didn't let us go out there without knowing what we were doing, so he trained us. Almost every day after school we would go with him and do things like count cards..."
"How many?" Marco asked. Two weeks had passed since they first met, and his frustration was starting to show. If he didn't need money so badly to pay some debts, he would have been fine with how long it was taking to teach them. But his life was depending on it. He had borrowed money from the wrong people, and they wanted him to pay.
"I-I don't know, you're going too fast." Nick had his hands on his head, pulling at his hair. Everything had become so stressful. Family, school, and now this.
Francis looked so calm compared to him. He wasn't at all threatened by the possibility of Marco becoming upset with them.
"Twenty!" Francis suddenly guessed.
Nick thought quietly and took deep breaths, trying to remember the numbers he saw. The first card was an ace, then... "Twenty-four, it's over."
"This is why you're going to be the gambler; that's your vice, kid." Marco ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself. "Francis." He had him figured since the start. He wasn't smart enough to make a safe bet. He had picked him out because he was the muscles. He'd just have to train a little harder. "Like I said, you're going to have to protect Nick's back. If someone starts to catch on, they will try to gang up on him, and that's when you need to get him out of that situation unharmed. If he gets a black eye, he'll be out for a while and we wont be making any money. No one trusts a man with black eyes, they know he's a rat and that he's cheating."
Francis sunk in his chair. He didn't see the praise in being the meat. He wanted to play the role of the gambler, he wanted to make enough money and then just ditch them. And the better Nick got, the more Marco praised him. No matter how hard Francis worked out he never got the same attention. This frustrated Francis, he wasn't sure why, and the only way he was going to get any of that stress off his chest was to show Nick exactly how he felt.
So every day at school Francis made sure that Nick didn't get a break, no more compromises. If he felt like doing a swirly then that's what he would get.
Nick didn't tell, and if Marco asked why he was soaking wet he'd come up with a quick lie. He was getting better at making them up each day.
This didn't stop until the day Francis realized he had gone too far: He had pushed Nick down, and when the younger boy sat up, he had one arm wrapped around the other, shouting in pain. He didn't think he had used so much strength. He had just wanted to get a little dirt on him, maybe even a bloody knee. But the thought of breaking his arm had him in a panic. He didn't mean to.
When Marco found out, he forced Francis to go to the hospital to visit Nick. He told him he had to apologize for what he had done, but when they got there, the only thing that happened for the first half hour was a long silence.
Marco stood at the window, fidgeting with the cigar case in his pocket. Francis just sat in a chair, looking down.
He didn't need to apologize for breaking Nick's arm; he couldn't have possibly done it. It all just didn't make sense. But looking at Nick's bare arms, he connected two and two, realizing what was going on. No wonder he always had oversized shirts, and he always looked so tired and thin.
"If I would have known-" Francis licked his lips. He really would have left Nick alone if he knew what was going on. He wouldn't have pushed as hard, or have been envious.
"It's okay." Nick said quietly. "I like that you didn't. It would have changed things between us."
"They're fucking idiots." Francis stood, "You're an even better kid than me, why would any parents..." He eyed the stained hand marks and bruises on Nick's arms. He always kept them so well hidden.
"They are my parents, they really are good. It's just that sometimes we just-" Nick rubbed his eye. He looked at his arm in the cast. "Life is hard without money, it makes people do crazy things." His voice cracked.
"I still don't like you kid, but I'm going to tell you one thing. As long as you're with me and Marco, you're never going to need money. So we're never going to do anything crazy, because we'll always have money... A lot of it, we'll be so rich that you can actually start wearing clothes that fit you right. Right Marco?"
Marco looked back at the two, "Right."
Rochelle had her hand over her mouth. Nick had more than just his ex-wife to blame for all his trust issues. And she was surprised Francis was showing her that he had a soft side too. She thought he would have kept that hidden from her.
"After that, Marco took Nick in, and when my Ma passed, I followed behind." Francis said, "But I started to see what Marco was doing. So I told Nick he could stop losing on purpose just to keep me around, that I was leaving. Marco had just become too powerful. He had started a big organization, and the group he led just wasn't my type. So I left. I liked life with bikers a little more than with mobsters like Marco."
"And Nick?" Rochelle asked.
"Nick fit in, with his slicked back hair and nice clothes." Francis said, "Marco had him wrapped around his finger."
Rochelle looked at him. She could tell that he wanted to offer so much more. Maybe this was why he was helping Nick. He was trying to make up to Nick for how much he had tormented him in school. "Thank you Francis." She smiled at him, "If you wouldn't have pushed Nick, you would have never found out, and his parents might have done worse then just a broken arm."
"But he would probably be a doctor or something, and he would have never met Marco." Francis sighed, hating that she was trying to comfort him when he didn't need it.
"You can't make his decisions, but you can be there for him as a friend. And you have been there for him... You just didn't realize it." She winked, "You big soft bear."
"Great, now you made me regret telling you the story. It was all a lie, April Fool's." Francis muttered, feeling a little flustered by her comment. He was not at all like a big soft bear.
Rochelle just laughed, "Whatever." She mocked him. "Uh, Francis..." She grabbed onto his shoulder.
"Stop touching me." Francis whined. "What is it?"
"You'll need to drive a little faster, my water just broke." Rochelle grabbed onto her stomach, starting to breath calmly. Those breathing exercises Ellis loved so much really did start to pay off.
"Gah-That's sick!" Francis looked back at Coach, "Hey wake up, I did not sign up for this. Can't you just wait?"
"I can't tell the baby to stop!" Rochelle yelled at Francis. Him freaking out was only stressing her out.
"Pull over, we wont make it to the hospital in time. Call an ambulance. We'll have to get their help over the phone until they get here." Coach said, already alert.
"But we're not far enough from where she was just in; they're going to take her back." Francis pulled over either way, getting out of the car quickly. He wished he would have done less talking and more speeding.
"You're such a child." Coach muttered, "Get her in the back where there's more space."
Francis didn't like to be called a child, so he huffed his chest and manned up. He could do this. What could possibly go wrong?
