The Mafia Hit Man's Daughter by Linda Scarpa Page B

Maybe Linda’s father wanted to see how much I could take.
    Finally they left. I felt somebody pick me up and pull me into the bowling alley bathroom. He was a pretty high-up guy, so he had his connections, too. He was from a different crew and I think a different family. Other people I knew from the neighborhood had come in and they were taking care of me.
    A lot of people knew me. I was the athlete. I did everything. I played baseball—I was a baseball star. I was a musician—I played the drums. I was also a party kid. But I also had a sense of honor. I wasn’t the type of guy who would just screw you over for nothing. If you screwed me, I’d get you, but if you didn’t, you had no problems with me.
    So those guys told me to stay in the bowling alley bathroom and not come out. I guess they were making sure that Linda’s father’s crew didn’t come back hunting for Stephen or me.
    After a while, they said it was okay for me to leave the bathroom. I didn’t want to leave, though. I was petrified. Finally they took me to my friend’s house, and then they took me home.
    My mother and sister almost passed out when I walked through the door.They both started crying. My sister had to sit down because she was so hysterical. My father was pissed.
    â€œWho the fuck did this to you?”
    I didn’t want to tell him because I was scared of what was going to happen; my father had a high-level job with the federal government. But I finally told him.
    â€œCome on, we’re going over to the house.”
    â€œYou’re fucking crazy! I’m not going over there. Dad, come on, he’s a fucking maniac. He just told me if he ever sees me again, or sees me near his family, he’s going to fucking kill me. And I believe him. So, no, I’m not going over there. You’re crazy.”
    â€œYou’re fucking going over there with me.”
    When we got to Linda’s house, my father made me stand right outside the door. He rang the bell. Greg came to the door and invited us in. Everything was respectful. My father was pissed, but he was still talking in a respectful manner. For one thing, my father was not dumb. He didn’t want to get killed, either.
    We were all sitting down on this little couch that was in the front room. My father and Greg were having a sit-down. They came to an agreement.
    â€œNow the agreement is, they stay away from each other, okay? You don’t touch my family,” my father told Greg. “And I won’t touch your family.”
    And they shook hands on it. That’s when Greg called Linda downstairs. I was one of those nice guys. But once you screwed me, forget it. When I got involved with somebody, I really opened up to them. I gave them everything. I felt very betrayed by Linda because I thought she ratted me out to her father. So when she came downstairs, I looked at her pretty much like I hated her.
    When Linda saw me, she screamed at her father. “I hate you.” And then she ran back upstairs. Then my father and I left.
    Before all this happened, Greg liked me. First of all, I had the same name as him and she had the same name as her mother. So it was, “Greg and Linda, Greg and Linda.” The fact that he liked me probably saved my life.
    I had an eye on Linda from the get-go. She used to come and watch us play softball, and I’d always see her hanging around. I never really talked to her in the beginning. Then I heard about her and her dad. I knew a little bit about that. But what stood out about her was that she really didn’t want that whole lifestyle.
    She dressed down a lot. She’d wear these little terrycloth sweatpants—nothing fancy or anything that made her look like a little Italian princess. She was so cute, but she looked normal—she always just wanted to look normal. And that’s the way she acted.
    She was really sweet—a lot sweeter than a typical Brooklyn girl, who