I could see a thousand possible outs flash through his mind. He started almost as many words, but never got them out before he calmed down and resignation washed over him.
“Fuck you, you had it coming, kid,” he said.
“Gun.”
He handed it over.
“Other gun. Knife.”
I brought all his weapons back to the couch opposite him and took a seat, my own gun on the armrest and still pointing right at him.
“Why?” I said.
“I may not have liked every decision the Picollis made, but at least they weren’t disrespecting our heritage, the families back home, everything we ever fuckin’ stood for. These bullshit deals with redneck motherfucker biker gangs, all this money you flash around acting like a playboy. It makes me sick to my fuckin’ stomach how close you are to having a reality TV show.”
I shook my head. “That’s it? I’ve got a tighter grip on this city than the Mafia has had for over two decades, but this isn’t the way it should be done? This isn’t ‘pure’? You stupid motherfucker. You’ve never even been to Italy. Why the fuck now?”
“Sickening or not, nobody could say you haven’t run a tight ship. Until that pussy got into your head. Things have been slipping and you don’t even care. I noticed. The Picollis noticed. They started poking around a bit more. Word got to me that the person who served your head on a silver platter would be made consigliere when they took their territory back. That sounded a lot better than being a babysitter for a piece of shit.”
“So why didn’t you bring my head on a silver platter? You could have shot me in the back like the chickenshit you are a thousand times by now.”
“That wouldn’t have sent the right message, wouldn’t have made the right example of you to anybody else who thought they could get rid of the Picollis so easily. They wanted it to be out in the open, and they wanted your whore to go down with you.”
“Language, motherfucker. Where are the Picollis based now?”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me? Had enough talking? Fine.”
I stood up and walked over to him. He spat at my feet and looked up defiantly. I could only see the fear in his eyes because I knew him so well.
“You deserve to be with the Picollis, so I’m going to send you to where most of them are. You fuckin’ stuck-in-the-past assholes and your fuckin’ symbolism and etiquette. If you had any brains, this is what you should have done.”
I aimed my gun at his head and fired. The first shot killed him instantly, the second added insult, the third proved he did have some brains in that head. At least he used to, now it was sprayed all over my couch. I kept on going.
Chapter 25
Kendall
The feeling that something wasn’t right crept into my dreams and turned them into nightmares long before I was awake. Endless gunfire, explosions, running away from men in pinstripe suits with tommy-guns. I was thankful when everything faded away and I felt myself back in Jace’s bedroom.
I reached out for Jace under the warm covers, but his side of the bed was empty. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and looked around. It was still early morning, if the light was anything to go by.
The silence was better than normal, it was positively soothing to my ears. The way yesterday ended was so loud. Bullets, explosions, hard fucking and screaming orgasms. So damn loud.
This was the first time the whirlwind of events had stopped spinning me around long enough for me to look at my surroundings. The feeling of wrongness followed me from my dreams.
I bunched up my eyebrows as I thought about it. It wasn’t the obvious, getting shot at by a bunch of mobsters wasn’t right, but there was more nagging at me, screaming at me to think.
Mobsters, the Picollis of course. They were the crime family that had been responsible for all the stuff happening lately, but it was hard to imagine what they were coming after Jace for.
The kinds of businesses that Jace was directly responsible for weren’t the kinds of stores that required Mafia protection from common street crime. Had they got pissed off about all the businesses that were refusing to deal with them that were ultimately owned by Jace?
Had Jace turned them down too? He was the kind of man that wouldn’t give in without a fight, so were the Picollis trying to teach him a lesson?
I sat up and winced. My muscles were aching as if I’d spent all day and night in the gym. Shuffling backwards, I arranged the pillows behind me and leaned against the headboard. There was no need to rush this awakening, I supposed.
On Jace’s pillow was a piece of paper with a hastily scribbled note. It said “Wait here. Back Soon. Love, Jace.” A man of few words, but he said the ones that mattered at least.