Page 66 of Marcello

The cops…

The dead Camorra in his bloodstained track suit…

But it was Buzzcut who caught me.

He put a gun to my head and said, This is what you wanted – right?

And then he pulled the trigger.

I bolted upright in bed, clammy with sweat, the thunder of the gunshot still echoing in my ears.

I barely got to the bathroom in time before I puked my guts out.

But I don’t think it was the alcohol.

Or at least, it wasn’t just the alcohol.

The next morning, my head pounded like Buzzcut had actually put a bullet in my brain.

As I stood in the bathroom brushing my teeth – very slowly, because every little movement hurt – Federica walked in and frowned at me. “Did something happen yesterday?”

“No – why?” I asked, trying to sound bored rather than panicked.

“You kept mumbling in your sleep.”

I stopped brushing. “What did I say?”

“I couldn’t make out most of it, but you kept repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over and over.”

“…I… guess it was just a nightmare.”

“I guess,” she said, then shrugged and walked away.

What I didn’t tell her was that I was living a nightmare.

It just seemed to have seeped into my dreams, as well.

As I walked to work, I tried to figure out how to find Buzzcut.

Turns out, he found me.

He was out in front of Sotto Napoli, slouched against a column in the exact same spot I’d botched the drug buy with Lametta.

When our eyes met, Buzzcut jerked his head to the side – Come on – and strolled across the street without waiting for me.

I hurried after him.

“Where were you yesterday?” I asked grumpily when I caught up to him.

“Fuckin’ good morning to you, too,” he snapped as he kept on walking.

I realized it probably wasn’t a good idea to get on the bad side of a murderous psychopath. Especially one I wanted as my new boss.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I just thought I’d see you right after I… you know.”

“That was the plan, but you’re one fast motherfucker.” He finally looked over at me and burst out into a grin. “Good fuckin’ job, by the way.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, but couldn’t bring myself to enjoy his praise.