Gian (Trassato Crime Family Book 1)(12)

“By shit coming up, do you mean skimming money from deadbeats to feed your drug habit?” I asked.

“I don’t do drugs, and I would never steal money from the family.”

I released the slide of my gun. “Is that right?”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I borrowed some here and there, but I’ll pay you back.”

“When?”

Tommy swallowed hard and then grabbed a white handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face. “Tonight. I can borrow the money from my brother.” His brother wasn’t part of the Trassato family. He owned a deli in Bensonhurst.

I pointed at Tony Red. “Check his pockets.”

Tony Red grabbed Tommy by his collar and wrenched him to his feet. He pulled a roll of cash out of one pocket and a bag of white powder out of the other. He handed them both to me and shoved Tommy back into the chair.

I stuffed the roll of cash in my pocket. “How much is here?”

Tommy licked his lips. “Two grand.”

“You owe me ten grand more.”

Tommy nodded without giving me eye contact. “Okay. I can get it tonight.”

“What about this?” I asked, holding up the plastic bag filled with white powder.

He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. “Somebody gave it to me at the club. I wasn’t going to touch it.”

I threw the bag at his face. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He glanced at me then looked away. His eyes were red and dilated. “You’re a soldier. You’re a member of this family, and you’re walking around high as a fucking kite. People see you shoving drugs up your nose. You’re making a fool of yourself, and you’re making the family look incompetent.”

“I don’t do drugs,” he said, shaking his head furiously.

“So you’re telling me if I had you pee in a cup, it’d come back clean?”

“Fuck you.” He jumped to his feet, and the chair fell backward, clacking against the floor. Contempt slithered across his face. “What I do in my free time is none of your business. If I want to do a few lines or get drunk, I’ll do it. The family doesn’t own me. You don’t own me, and Dominick sure as hell doesn’t own me.”

In a matter of seconds, Tony Red had his gun out. I held up my hand to stop him, but he didn’t bother looking at me for approval. He pulled the trigger.

Tommy tumbled to the ground with a loud thud. His head bounced on the floor like a ball. Blood stained the front of his white shirt. His dark eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.

I wiped a splatter of blood on my cheek with the back of my hand. “Tony, what the hell? Do you realize what you did? We weren’t supposed to kill him.”

Tony shoved his gun into the holster hidden inside of his suit. “I couldn’t take his shit anymore. He mentioned him, he disrespected you, he skimmed money, and I was sick of him talking to us like we’re a bunch of jerk-offs. If you get in trouble from the higher ups, you can pin this on me. I don’t care. He deserved to die.”

I ran my hands through my hair, my mind searching for a way out of this mess. Dominick wouldn’t like that Tommy ended up dead. If we explained the situation, he’d probably think Tony was justified, but it reflected poorly on me that I couldn’t control my soldiers. “Carlo, go out the side door, and pull the car around. Tony will carry out the body.”

“What are we going to do with him?” Carlo asked. I threw the plastic bag of cocaine on top of Tommy’s lifeless form.

“Dump his body along with the drugs on the street in the Bronx. Make the police believe it was a drug deal gone bad.”

Carlo folded his arms across his chest. “What are you going to do?”

“Clean up this fucking mess.” I gestured to the door. “Now move, before this blows up in our face.”





CHAPTER SEVEN





Evangeline



Exhausted, cold, and beyond pissed off were the only words to describe how I felt when I yanked on the exit door to Gian’s nightclub, and it didn’t budge. I wandered to the corner of the building and watched the people laughing, talking, hugging, and stumbling as they left the nightclub.

Leaning against the brick wall, I brushed strands of my hair away from my face and tipped my head to the sky. Things like this only happened to me. I must have done some seriously bad stuff in my previous life to deserve my nonstop run of back luck, or maybe it meant I needed to suck it up, pack my bags, and move home.

Resigned to waiting until the full hour expired to go back inside, I closed my eyes. An air conditioning unit thrummed somewhere in the shadows. I shivered. The early summer air had grown damp and clammy since I’d sent the taxi driver away after exchanging phone numbers. He’d been surprisingly accommodating.