Submission Specialist(Still a Bad Boy #2)(41)

“No thanks. Something tells me I’m not going to be here very long.”

He chuckled. “Well you might just be right about that. Suit yourself.”

Roid Rage, over by the window, snickered quietly under his breath. I decided I might have to fuck him up on general principal.

“So, like I was sayin’, things can change, and change pretty fuckin’ fast. Take today for example. Big change. Don Bertolini has kindly accepted my proposition to buy into certain sectors of the family’s business here in New Ashby. Hence this fine construction company being under new management.”

Renato gestured around the general area and I gritted my teeth, already having a good idea where this fucking stupid speech was going. My fingers were tingling and I resisted the urge to bunch them into fists. The air was already thick with tension; everybody was ready for a fight.

“Part of the deal is for the Bertolinis’ interest in MMA match fixing. So congratulations, you punch-drunk son of a bitch, you are now property of the great Picolli Crime Family. How does it feel to know I own you?”

“The fuck you do,” I said.

I heard a rustling behind me and a quick glance told me that Old School had pulled out his gun, a shiny little black number with a silencer already fitted. With narrowed eyes, I turned back to Renato, feeling every breath send the essential fuel of oxygen to my muscles.

“The fuck I do,” said the Picolli. “I told you guys he was a mouthy motherfucker.”

“You want me to shut his mouth for ya, Uncle Renato?” said Roid Rage.

“I told you to shut up and listen, Benny,” said Renato.

Great, the next generation of fuckwits was represented here too.

“Listen to your master, bitch,” I said to him.

Benny went red and flexed hard enough that I thought he was going to pop like a balloon. However, Renato had him on a short enough leash that he probably wouldn’t wipe his ass without texting for permission.

“Just in time too, with your big fight this weekend and all.”

“I’m winning that fight,” I said.

Renato leaned back in his chair. “Here’s the thing… no, you’re not. Things are gonna be different around here, punk-ass motherfucker. The way you spoke to Enrico? You don’t speak like that to me, to any Picolli. You do what the fuck you’re told, exactly what you’re told and nothing but what you’re told. Welcome to your new life. Do I make myself clear?”

“I made a deal with the Bertolinis, not you. We had some good times, made some money, but it’s run its course. It’s not such a good deal anymore, so it’s over.”

Renato laughed and leaned forward again, shaking his finger at me. “You cocky motherfucker. You don’t have a fuckin’ choice.”

“Go fuck yourself,” I said.

Renato’s eyes went to Old School and he raised his chin for a second. Old School shuffled forward and I felt cold steel against the back of my head.

Big mistake, Old School, I thought.

He never should have got that close to me. He never should have let me know exactly where his gun was without my having to look for it.

“Fuck myself? Hold him there, Al, I think fuckface needs to be tenderized by some baseball bats to help him get accustomed to his new circumstances.”

Sweet, fuck-off, adrenaline was flooding my system, making me want to explode, but this was a delicate situation. I focused on controlling my breathing and watching everything with laser precision as Rat One and Rat Two picked up baseball bats from behind the desk.

Rat One was holding the bat with his left hand above the right, a left-handed grip. That meant he would be swinging from the inside, crossing paths with his right-handed counterpart and getting in each other’s way.

Benny was puffing air in and out like a bull. I didn’t have to see him to know his cheeks were blowing out every time he exhaled. It was a fucking annoying sound to be honest, the loudest one in the room.

The closer the rats came, the louder he blew. If Al found him as annoying as I did, he might…

There. I felt the slight shift in the gun against the back of my head as Al looked at Benny with what I assumed was mild disgust. Now was the time to explode.

Ducking down and slightly to the side, I reached up and pulled Al’s arm over my shoulder. Making sure his thumb was facing towards the ceiling, I pushed up with my legs at the same time as I pulled down with my hands, snapping his arm at the elbow with a crisp crunching sound.

Al screamed and the gun went off. I saw Rat Two crumple over, clutching his stomach. I tried to grab Al’s gun, but didn’t have enough time to disentangle it from his fingers before Benny charged at me like the stupid fucking bull he was.