Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
When Vince came calling, I had to answer. The Leone family was the largest mafia in Philadelphia, and I was still an independent guy, working all my jobs alone. I was happiest that way, and didn’t want to get tangled up by the Leones, but their money was good and the job was simple: track down a couple goons and beat the ever-loving shit out of them. I brought Floyd along and offered to split the pay sixty-forty. He thought it was an even split, but shit, that’s on him for not asking.
“Either way. I hope they got the message.” Vincent smiled and clapped me on the shoulder, the one with the knife wound, and I grimaced. He had the good manners to look a little embarrassed before turning to Floyd. “Thanks for the assistance. I’m sure Ren will have your money soon.”
“When I get paid, he gets paid,” I said, nodding.
“Very good.” Vincent squeezed my shoulder. “I actually have another job for you, if you’d be willing to talk?”
I hesitated. I really didn’t want to get too involved. The Leones had their own thing brewing, and it didn’t look pretty. Not the kind of shit I wanted to dive into, not even remotely, but I couldn’t turn him down, not in his own house.
“Sure, I’ll talk,” I said.
“Good.” Vincent nodded to Floyd. “You can see yourself out.”
Floyd gave me a look and I nodded back—he knew where I lived and he knew I wouldn’t stiff him. Floyd turned and left, shutting the big oak door with its fancy carvings with a loud thud.
Vincent cleared his throat. “Come on with me, Ren.”
He led me up that staircase the girl had taken. I thought I could smell her perfume—sweet, almost a little spicy—but that must’ve been my imagination. A small statue stood at the top of the steps, a marble bust of a pretty-looking lady in profile. Vincent took me to the left, down a long hallway, past door after quiet door, our footsteps muffled by the thick ancient carpet, before he reached the end, turned a knob, and led me into what looked like a study.
A fire crackled in the fireplace and a big black chair sat in front of an oak desk. He lowered himself down with a sigh. A computer screen sat dead and black but he kept himself turned toward me.
I didn’t belong in a room like this. I was a small-time thief and thug. I had my own thing, down south where people knew me, and I got along just fine without getting tangled up with the damn Leone family. But now they had me in their jaws, and I thought I’d be swallowed, or thrown into that fireplace.
Bookshelves lined the walls, and leather-bound books lined the shelves, more books than I’d ever seen in my life.
“It’s like a library in here,” I said, smiling.
He didn’t smile back. “I’ve got a job for you.”
I nodded once. “All right. Let’s hear it.” I wanted to tell him I was done doing jobs, but I could at least hear him out. It was polite, after all.
Vincent looked at his nails and avoided my gaze. “I’m sure you’ve heard about what’s happening with the family right now.”
I hesitated and nodded, still standing. My feet hurt suddenly and I had the urge to sit, but held it off. “There are rumors.”
“Tell me those rumors.”
“Couple groups are out to get you,” I said with a shrug. “Not really my concern. I’m small time. Keep to myself.”
He nodded. “I know that. It’s what I like about you. Did you know that you have a good reputation?”
I snorted and paced away. “Not sure I’d call my reputation good.”
He smiled at that. “Honest, at least. You’re given a job, and you do the job. That’s a surprisingly rare quality in our line of work.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then you shouldn’t be surprised that I’m coming to you.”
I stopped pacing, faced him. “Frankly, I’ve been doing business in this city since I was a teenager, and you family never once looked in my direction.” I wanted to gesture, but my hand was still pressing my jacket down on the knife wound. I wondered if it would need stitches. Definitely antibiotics. I was sure that scumbag didn’t clean his knife. “I’ll admit I’m a little surprised you’re looking to hire me.”
I thought he might be annoyed about that, but he only shrugged. “Haven’t had a reason to hire you, truth be told. You’ve always done your own thing, and I’ve always done mine. Our paths never crossed. I suspect you’ve done that on purpose.”
“You give me too much credit.”
“Either way, our paths are crossed now.”
I nodded. “You’re right about that.”
He looked at me for a few seconds before sighing. He gestured at a chair behind me. “Sit down. You’re hovering.”