“Oh my god! Please, no!”
“Now’s your chance to run.” I climb the steps as black smoke swirls into the space, filling the air shockingly fast. It hits my lungs like tar.
“Please!” she screams but I don’t stick around to find out if she’s smart enough to save her own skin. I keep moving, climbing out of the bad air and to the second floor landing.
I walk toward the master bedroom locked behind a pair of big oak doors. The house crackles and burns behind me. In years past, this place must’ve been crawling with staff, cleaners, cooks, and dozens of guards. But now there’s nobody; the whole mansion’s a ghost town. No men with guns to protect the boss, all because the money’s been gone for years.
Strange how it comes down to this. In the end, it wasn’t about catching Fontana and physically overpowering him.
It was about out-maneuvering him, starving his operations, stealing his people, and crushing him slowly.
Would Shawn appreciate this?
Probably not. He was a stupid fucking kid.
I kick open the bedroom doors. They smash against the far wall. Fontana’s sitting in his bed, his phone against his ear. The room is lavish: thick rugs, ornate crown molding, painted black and gray and gold like a king’s private chambers. “Oh fuck, he’s here—“ Fontana dives sideways, reaching for his bureau.
I fire once, shooting the alarm clock six inches from his face. He recoils, flailing, the phone thrown from his hands. It tumbles across the floor and I don’t bother going after it. Whoever he has on the other end can’t help him now, even if they want to.
“Good evening, Mr. Fontana.” I tip over my gas can with my toe and let the liquid seep out onto the carpet. I walk around to the side of the bed, keeping the gangster covered. “It seems your house is on fire.”
“Prime.” He speaks through his teeth. He’s trying to be brave but the fear’s all over him. “You foolish boy. You realize what’s going to happen now?”
“The real question is, do you?” I stand over him and marvel at how old he looks. Augustus Fontana, the devil in my dreams. How did I ever let a pathetic weakling like this bother me for so long? It seems absurd now.
“They’re coming and when they get here, they’re going to kill you.” Fontana sneers at me. “Unless you’re smart and cut a deal. We can still work together. It isn’t too late. I’ve always said you were clever and enterprising?—“
“How many clever and enterprising young men have you ended over the years?”
His brow furrows. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I wasn’t the first you tried to kill. I’m guessing you’ve been identifying potential trouble for years and cutting it down before it can bloom. Like you’re weeding the city’s garden. But you missed with me and got my friend instead.”
His cheeks turn red. “I thought you were done after that. You disappeared for months. I should’ve finished the fucking job.”
“Probably, but you didn’t, and by the time I emerged, I had some help and you couldn’t touch me anymore.”
“You were beneath my notice by then. Don’t be so full of yourself.”
“How many, Fontana? I want to know. How many like me did you kill?”
“Plenty. Dozens. Hundreds. I don’t know and does it matter?” He leans forward, the covers slumping off his body. His hairy chest peeks out from under an old white tank top. One gnarled finger points at me. “You have just as much blood on your hands as I do, you fucking hypocrite.”
I curse under my breath. It takes a lot of effort not to shoot him right here and now. “Not fucking kids.”
“Kids, women, who give a god damn shit if they’re in the way? We’re the same, Prime, we always have been, only I’m better than you. I survived worse than you over the years, you know that? You think you can come in here and end me? Fuckingme?”
“Here’s what you don’t understand.” I move at him, kneeling on the edge of the bed, shoving him down with one hand on his flabby chest, jamming the muzzle of the gun into his mouth. He whimpers, all his bravado gone.
Best way to shut a man up is to shove a warm barrel between his teeth.
I lean close so he can hear. The fire’s getting loud downstairs. Smoke seeps in through the open door. Not too much longer now before the whole house is a bonfire.
“It was never about being the best. It was about taking care of my people. You never did get that, did you? Your whole outfit only existed because you paid your men, but you never made them give a fuck about you. That’s why they all fled the second the tap turned off. That’s why all your guards are gone and I could walk right in here and kill you like the scum you are. You deserved worse than this, Fontana, and you deserved it a lot sooner. Shawn deserved better. All those other dead boys deserved better.” I shove the gun harder, scraping his teeth. He moansand tries to thrash at me, eyes wild and wide, tears streaming down his face. Everyone’s a coward when they’re staring down their end.
“I want you to know, I got something waiting for me at home. I’ll go on, I might even be happy, and sometimes I’ll remember this moment fondly. But mostly I’ll forget about you like the rest of the world will, and we’ll all be better off for it.”
Please, he tries to say, but it comes out muffled.
