Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“What do you want? Ready to finally put the knife in my back like you tried five years ago?”
His jaw flexes. “Tommy made promises. You don’t understand.”
“I took care of all of you. I paid you well, got you good jobs, made sure you all rose through the ranks like I did. I was a good fucking boss.”
“Yeah, maybe, you were pretty good, but you’re still a Bianco. Tommy, he’s like us, he’s from nothing. I can trust a guy like that. But you? No offense, Angelo, but we were always miles apart.”
I stare at him and resist the urge to rage. We were fucking friends. No, we were brothers-in-arms. We killed together, fought together, bled together. I led them through hell and back, and I made sure they got rich. They were drowning in jewelry, pussy, and respect.
And they tried to take me out because I was born rich.
Fuck them.
“I don’t know what Tommy told you, but he was wrong. You guys made the wrong call.”
He laughs softly. “No shit. After it all went down, exactly one of us reaped the rewards, and it sure as fuck wasn’t me.”
“Then why are you still working for him?”
“Because what other option did I have? You came storming back into my life without so much as a conversation and I didn’t have a choice. You think I wanted to be anywhere near fucking Tommy? The piece of shit had my balls in a vice because of what we did.”
I move slowly and keep my hands low. My gun’s in my waistband, and he can’t see as I grip it tightly. “Why don’t you just kill me, Roc? Since I’m a rich prick and I’m not worth shit. End it now.”
“I want to make a deal.” He says it through his teeth like it’s hurting him. “Tommy’s going to get everyone killed. I’m done with that prick.”
“Now you’re seeing the light, Roc? You regret your mistakes?”
“Fuck you. I’m trying to save my ass. You want Tommy? I can tell you where he is, but first I want some assurances. After this conversation, I’m leaving Chicago. I’m taking a bus somewhere far from here, and I want you to swear you won’t follow me.”
I look at him in the rearview and hold his gaze. This bastard never gave me this chance, not back in the day. “Tell me where Tommy is and you’re as good as gone.”
Roc nods once. His gun lowers slowly. “He’s got a safehouse up north. It’s this old butcher’s shop on Argyle Street near North Mayfair Park.”
“Nice neighborhood up there.”
“Yeah, well, Tommy’s been moving up in the world.”
“How’d he do it?” I turn slightly, taking a risk. Roc stares at me and his gun doesn’t move. The barrel’s pointed at the floor.
He seems thin and old with dark bags under his eyes. I bet the fucker’s been sweating hard since I came back into his life. I bet he’s been thinking a lot about Vito and Paulie. I hope he’s been suffering.
“Girls. Always been girls. Back in the day it was immigrants from abroad, just a bunch of poor fucking Eastern Bloc chicks selling themselves in crack dens. Then he got Cage and turned it up to eleven.”
I let that sink in. Tommy’s trafficking women. And suddenly it all clicks together.
Cage’s extra money. And the third fucking floor. “He’s selling the girls,” I say to myself. “That fucking prick.”
“Cage was a real windfall for good ol’ Tommy.” Roc sounds bitter. He must be pretty pissed that he got cut out of the deal. “Tripled their business overnight and only grew from there. You know how it is. Rich guys want to get their dick wet with inexperienced girls and don’t give a shit if they’re sex slaves.”
“Don’t act morally superior.”
Roc shrugs and looks out the window. “Fuck Tommy. Fuck this life. I just want out, alright? You got what you need. Now it’s done.”
“Yeah, Roc. It’s done.”
He reaches for the door handle.
I raise my gun and shoot him in the face. The sound is loud, deafening. My ears ring as I pull the trigger a second time, blowing his jaw clean off. His corpse slumps sideways and his blood trickles down the back window. It clots on the leather seats.
I said he’s as good as gone. And now he’s fucking gone.
I lower the gun and close my eyes.
Now I owe Seamus a new car.
My headache’s pounding like a motherfucker and all I want to do is go home and take a bath with Claudia.
Chapter 35
Claudia
Ikeep hearing the snap of my tray against Skinny’s skull. Angelo’s lucky Cage uses fancy solid wood and not those flimsy plastic things. It felt like hammering at a brick wall, and the first time I hit him, he barely even grunted. It took a second, and a third, before he finally released this awful groan and the scalp under his hair broke away. Blood gushed from the wound, and I hit him again, and again, until he fell to the side and tried to curl around himself.