The Purple Don Read online

  It was Frankie.

  It made perfect sense, and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. But one thing still eluded him. How did Frankie know?

  Now that Joey’s eyes burned with recognition, Frankie let his shine with acknowledgement. The two men eyed each other intently until Frankie—like the winner he felt he was—bowed out gracefully.

  “Go home, kid.” This weather…could be the death of ya.”

  Joey smirked coldly at the implication, and then replied, “Whatever you say…Boss,” turning and walking away.

  Tuesday, January 16th 1990

  Joey surveyed the scene from behind his mirror-tinted sunglasses. Seth had a large turnout for his funeral, but it was the absence of his parents that rang an ominous tone in Joey’s mind. Their shame of who he was overshadowed the natural love of parent to child, making Joey wonder: would the same be true of his father? Once the tables were turned, would Vincenzo do the same? Joey mingled politely with the crowd. Faces blurred together, voices droned, merged and murmured around him. Nothing could pull him from his cocoon.

  Until he saw her…

  She could have been Italian, Latin, Black, Egyptian, or Asian. Her smooth exotic skin tone was every ethnic fantasy. But in reality, she was half Sicilian and half Brazilian, mingling the best genes of the races, passionate in love and blood. They constrained and complemented each other, creating a woman irresistible to forget after one glance. Although she wore a leather trench and moved demurely because of the setting, Joey could tell by her stride that she had never been tamed, and something primal swelled and made him determined to do just that. As she approached, her eyes never left his, her gaze seemingly reading his mind and challenging him to try, uttering “I dare you,” with her eyes.

  I dare you.

  When she got close, he cracked a dimple and said, “Te Amo.”

  She smiled brightly, then enveloped him in a warm hug.

  “You remembered me,” she said, with appropriate surprise.

  “How could I forget?” Joey retorted.

  They broke the hug and Joey stepped back so he could look at her.

  “Well, for starters…the last time you saw me I was a dirty little tomboy, twelve years old, playing football and fighting boys,” she giggled.

  “And as I remember, you had a pretty good left hook,” he chuckled, and they shared a laugh. “But it’s the eyes…they never change.”

  “No, they don’t,” she agreed, taking off his shades and putting them on to conceal the glint in her green eyes. “Joey Diamond Eyes.”

  Joey smiled.

  “That was a long time ago. Now, they just call me Joey Diamonds.”

  There was an awkward pause as the realization set in that they had both momentarily forgotten why they were there, being overwhelmed with their reunion.

  “It was devastating to hear what happened to Seth,” Te Amo said, shaking her head and taking off Joey’s sunglasses.

  “Yeah,” Joey responded. “He uhh, he didn’t deserve this.”

  “I know what you mean,” she replied, understanding the context completely.

  “Were you…there?”

  Joey looked at her without saying a word, but she comprehended his silence.

  “Well listen, I’ll umm, I’ll be in town for a couple of days,” she began, going in her purse, pulling out a pen and giving him her number. “I would really like to get together while I’m here.”

  “Yeah, I’d like that too,” he replied.

  “Yeah,” she chirped, flashing a smile to rival his. “Then I’ll look forward to your call. Nice seein’ you again…Diamond Eyes,” she said with a wink and walked away.

  He watched her disappear into the crowd, then turned his attention back to Seth’s rose-laden coffin, as the cemetery workers prepared to lower it. It was in that moment when he realized that Seth was truly gone. He thought about the nature of funerals and realized they weren’t for the deceased; they were for the living to give them closure, and it made him smile. It made him see that the part of Seth that was dead was the part he could never possess, but the part he had, no one could ever take away.

  The memories.

  Joey remembered when he first met Seth. He was 22 and Seth was 20, working at the Sam Goody in Joey’s area. The manager was into Joey for a few thousand, so he had stopped by to see him. Watching the cashier as he waited for the manager to make a phone call, he noticed a steady stream of people, mostly teens, come up and make transactions without any merchandise changing hands.

  “What’s with the kid? The cashier?” Joey inquired.

  “He’s a good kid, why?”

  Joey could tell, whatever was going on, the manager didn’t know about it. So he waited until he was about to leave and approached Seth.

  “Maybe you don’t know, but any rackets ‘round here, I get a piece too,” Joey said smoothly with a smirk.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seth replied, playing dumb.

  “No?” Joey smiled. “Then maybe I’ll take it up with your boss and straighten it all out.”

  That got Seth’s attention.

  “Or maybe me and you, we can work it out, eh? So what you got? Pills? Pop Rockers?”

  “Tickets,” Seth reluctantly admitted.

  “Tickets?” Joey echoed.

  Seth sighed, exasperated with Joey’s lack of understanding.

  “Concert tickets! You know, shows?”

  “You must have half the tickets stashed back there, huh? How about two tickets for Springsteen.”

  “Three hundred bucks.”

  Joey whistled.

  “That’s pretty steep. How about no charge? Ask around about me and I’ll…I’ll see you tomorrow,” Joey told him and stepped off.

  The next day, he returned.

  “So how about those Springsteens?”

  “I asked around and nobody seems to know who Joey Diamond Eyes is. Three hundred bucks,” Seth replied, suppressing a smirk.

  Joey found the crack hilarious.

  Joey got the tickets (for a negotiated $150) and learned that Seth had found a way to bootleg concert tickets. As an early adherent to computers, Seth proved himself a wiz, and for the next 18 months, the two of them made close to seventy grand bootlegging concert tickets, Broadway tickets, and Yankees tickets.

  Joey would find out that the ticket scam was just the tip of the iceberg, because Seth had a helluva financial mind. Joey started to keep him around more and more, and the two of them grew closer. Joey found out that Seth was gay when he tried to set him up with a girl.

  “Whaddya mean, no? Didn’t you see her? The broad looks like fuckin’ Madonna! I’m talkin’ the Holy Mother herself! She’s heavenly! Fuck you mean, no?”

  “I don’t like girls, Joey,” Seth answered, watching his reaction.

  “Don’t like girls? What, you’re a fuckin’ frocio?”

  “I prefer the word gay, but if you want to be an Italian asshole, then yeah. I’m a frocio!”

  Joey was driving at the time when he told him. He got to a light and kind of looked at Seth curiously. It wasn’t like Seth wore his sexuality on his sleeve like he was flaming, but it would’ve been obvious had Joey really paid attention. The fact that he hadn’t paid attention both cheered and upset Seth at the same time. Cheered because Joey had simply accepted him, no questions asked. It was upsetting because he wanted Joey to see him for him, since Seth was beginning to fall in love with Joey. After a few moments that seemed like forever to Seth, Joey simply shrugged and said, “Okay…fuck it. I’ll boff the broad,” and accelerated on the green.

  Several weeks later, their relationship blossomed.

  They were in Seth’s apartment, counting money from the night’s take of the ticket scam. Seth sat on the couch and Joey sat on the love seat, the money all over the coffee table between them. Seth had been thinking about it since he first laid eyes on Joey, but he felt emboldened by the fact that Joey hadn’t treated him differently since he fou
nd out he was gay. He had even joked with Seth once while they were playing pool. Joey was bent over the pool table when he looked back over his shoulder at Seth and said, “Hey, don’t stand behind me with that stick. Makes me nervous.”

  Seth’s heart told him Joey knew how he felt. He had to know. The way he looked at Joey, Joey had to know the vibe he was sending. He had to feel it. But his head told him it was just Joey being his self-centered self. He didn’t see any of Seth’s advances because he didn’t see Seth. He was just a pawn in Joey’s world, a moneymaking pawn that had no separate existence from his assigned function.

  But Seth had to know. He was tired of guessing, of assuming, of fantasizing. He had to know, even if Joey cursed him out or worse. And make no mistake, it could be worse. He knew Joey was a cold-blooded killer. What if his advances were taken as disrespect to his Italian manhood? What if he broke some Sicilian code of honor between friends?

  At that time, eyeing Joey across the coffee table, desire trumped reason and discretion, as Seth blurted out, “I wish I was a girl.”

  Joey, without looking up or losing count replied, “What are you talkin’ about?”

  Committed to his course of action, Seth swallowed a dry lump and answered, “So you’d like me…like how you like them.”

  Joey looked up and flashed the smile that always made Seth want to strip and said, “I like you just the way you are, eh? Now, pass me that bag.”

  “No,” Seth said firmly, standing up. “I’m serious, Joey, I’m not playing around, okay? I don’t want you to like me; I want you to want me like I want you. I want you to do to me what you do to them.”

  Joey sat back in the love seat, the large stack of money still in his right hand.

  “Wow…Seth, umm, listen… You’re a good friend. Really. But I don’t know what to say. I’m not…like that.”

  “No?” Seth smirked, the energy in the room telling him not to let up or let go. He slowly rounded the coffee table, encouraged by every step he took and that Joey didn’t halt. “You’re sure? You’re sure you’ve never thought about me the way I think about you? Never? You’re not curious?”

  Joey smirked and replied, “Seth, look who you’re talking to. I fuck a different broad damn near every night. What’s to be curious about?”

  By the time Joey had finished his comment, Seth was standing between Joey’s legs as he sat back, masculine and reclined.

  “Power,” Seth purred. “To see if the power you have over a woman you have over men, too. That’s the power only gods have, Joey. Who wouldn’t want that?” Seth asked rhetorically, as he sank to his knees, making sure to never lose eye contact with Joey. It was like he was a snake charmer and Joey’s was the snake. One false move and he knew he’d be devoured. Seth uttered the one word that spoke directly to Joey’s ego. Power. Truth be told, he hadn’t looked at Seth like that. He’d never looked at Seth, period. Like everything else in his life, Seth was simply a means to an end, but seeing him for the first time and seeing him eye level with his crouch was intoxicating and an undeniable turn on.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Joey answered, licking his lips. “Who wouldn’t want that?”

  Seth unzipped his jeans and freed his nine-inch rod that was stretching the fabric to get out. He slid his dick in his mouth and curved Joey’s toes in his shoes.

  “Fuck,” Joey groaned, seizing a fistful of Seth’s hair and began thrusting his hips and fucking his mouth.

  Unprepared for all nine inches, Seth gagged until he relaxed this throat to accommodate Joey’s length. Seth sucked and bobbed furiously, eager to feel Joey’s load coat his throat, but Joey pulled out and gruffly demanded Seth to “turn around and bend over.”

  Seth eagerly complied, dropping his pants around his ankles and gripping the arm of the couch. Joey spread the pucker of his asshole with his thumbs, then thrust his hard, thick dick deep inside. Seth’s knees weakened with delicious pleasure as he began to thrust back, meeting Joey, thrust for thrust.

  “Yes, Joey, yes!” Seth gasped, taking every inch.

  “You’re beautiful,” Joey grunted, pumping furiously.

  “Tell me again!”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “Ohhh, I love you, Joey.”

  “I know you do.”

  It would be the first of many times, many lust-filled secret nights—or so Joey thought, until his lust could cost Seth his life.

  “Joey!”

  He heard his name being called, and his mind told him it wasn’t the first time. He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see Te Amo standing beside him. They were the only two in the cemetery, as the sun was partially submerged on the horizon, giving the sky a curious purple haze.

  He had lost track of time.

  “You okay?” she inquired with obvious concern.

  “I thought you left.”

  “I was leaving, but something told me I should stay. I’m glad I did, because you look like you could use someone to talk to.”

  Joey grinned warmly.

  “I know a place. You want a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  “To Seth,” Te Amo toasted, holding her glass aloft.

  “To Seth,” Joey nodded and clinked glasses.

  They were at a bar called Seven in the Financial District, a trendy spot favored by brokers from Wall Street. The place was only half packed. Joey and Te Amo occupied the back corner booth while the sounds of George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” played on the jukebox in the corner.

  “So tell me…if you would’ve given Seth’s eulogy, what would you have said?” Te Amo probed.

  Joey shrugged, toyed with his glass and replied, “I don’t know, I’m not so good with words, you know so…maybe, a great guy and an even better friend. The brains of the operation,” he joked.

  “The brains?” Te Amo echoed, her tone urging Joey to elaborate.

  “The guy was a wiz. When I met him, he was bootleggin’ concert tickets. Made a fuckin’ fortune.”

  They shared a laugh.

  “The thing I’ll remember most is his sense of humor. You know, his wit. He was so witty. He could always make me laugh,” Te Amo said.

  “Yeah, he was a funny guy. Were you close?”

  Te Amo waffled her hand.

  “Kinda sorta. I haven’t been back to the City since I left, but we spoke from time to time.”

  “I wonder why he never mentioned you,” Joey remarked, sipping his drink.

  “He probably thought you wouldn’t remember me,” she replied.

  “You keep saying that but listen, I definitely remember you, ‘cause you were a doll. The feisty Spanish doll with the name that meant I love you. Definitely stuck out in my mind,” Joey flirtatiously assured her.

  “Well, if I was such a doll, how come you never said nothin’?”

  “Come on, you were a kid,” Joey waved her off.

  “I’m only three years younger than you. Besides, that didn’t stop you from doin’ Maria Piazza,” she teased.

  Joey chuckled.

  “That don’t count.”

  “Why?”

  “She was a slut.”

  They laughed.

  “I had the biggest crush on you, Joey. All the girls did… and some of the boys,” she quipped.

  Joey subtly shifted in his seat.

  “So, like I’m not tryin’ to pry, but…are you like just gay, or…” Te Amo let her voice trail off, to let Joey fill in the blanks.

  He downed his drink, then replied, “Well I’m not just anything. The thing with Seth was such a thing, you know? Forget about it. I love women,” Joey assured her.

  Te Amo could tell he wasn’t comfortable with the subject, so she changed it.

  “I know maybe you don’t want to talk about it, but what happened with Seth, you said he didn’t deserve it. Did you mean, it was meant for someone…else?” she asked. He knew the someone else she was referring to was him.

  “No, but…it’s complicated.”

 
; “I’m sure, but just so you know, Miami’s beautiful this time of year and my family would make sure you’re taken care of,” Te Amo offered.

  “Who’s your family?”

  “Reyes.”

  “No disrespect, but I’ve never heard of ‘em.”

  She smiled, knowingly.

  “Believe me, you will when you get to Miami.”

  Joey smiled, shrugged casually and answered, “Eh, you never know. Maybe one day, but no time soon.”

  “Not even if I say ‘please’ and bat my eyes?” she asked, playfully batting her eyes.

  “Couldn’t hurt,” Joey cracked, and they shared a laugh. He added, “I appreciate what you’re doing, really, and just as soon as I straighten things out, I’m on the next thing smoking,”

  “I’ma hold you to that,” she said, a look of determined femininity coloring her expression.

  “I’m sure you are.”

  As their gaze lingered, there was no question as to where the night would take them. The spark had been lit on first glance. Both felt it, but there was something else, something neither could name. So it made them much more curious.

  Joey paid the bill and they headed out. It had begun to snow, already coating the ground with a thin white layer, broken only by the passing footprints. Joey turned his head to say something to Te Amo, but something caught his attention in the corner of his eye.

  “Joey look out!” Te Amo bellowed, but Joey had already seen it.

  Three men in long coats and Russian mink hats across the street, all holding semi-automatic weapons. They definitely had the drop on Joey, but they waited half a beat too long as he grabbed Te Amo around the waist with one hand, pulling her to the ground with him, and lifting his pistol from his waist with the other. As he fell, he let off a series of shots, but at the same time he heard another series of shots fired from close to him. He turned to see Te Amo, pistol in hand, firing on the would-be assassins. The few pedestrians on the street screamed and ducked, as the windows of parked cars and storefronts shattered all around them.

  A van skidded up, and the three men jumped inside, barely escaping with their own lives as Joey and Te Amo came up from cover—firing and peppering the rear of the van with shots that sent sparks flying off the bumper as it drove away.