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Shit. I fumble in my pocket and draw out my cell. I have Zane on speed dial, so I just hit the number.
Zane answers immediately. “Fucker, where are you?”
“Alley behind the club. Careful, they may—”
A boot kicks the cell out of my hand, and I hiss at the new burn. Another kick to my stomach and I gag, puking on the ground. The blackness is seeping into my sight. It’s growing dark.
“This one’s out for the count,” one of them says. “I don’t think he’s getting up again soon. But he’s not the one we want. Huh, Nino?”
“Get off me,” he mutters, but they laugh, and I fight to stay conscious. Need to know what will happen.
“Boss said you pay or die,” the guy who kicked me drawls. “Your pick.”
“I told him I need another week and he’ll have his damn money.”
“No good, Nino. You owe him three hundred grand. Are you even worth that much?”
“Let me go, just let me—”
The deafening crack of a gunshot. My ears ring, and I blink and blink, trying to clear my eyes enough to see.
Nino is lying in a spreading puddle of blood, a dark circle in the middle of his forehead. The two men stand there, as if checking he won’t be getting up again.
He won’t. This is execution, mafia-style. Like Nino executed my dad. A bullet in the head. Now it makes sense.
The men laugh and wander away. I haven’t even seen their faces. It
doesn’t matter. A mobster killed a mobster who killed a mobster.
I let my eyes close and drift into darkness. Nothing left to take care of. I found him, and now he’s dead, like those he killed.
I’m done.
***
Someone is shaking me.
Goddammit, a guy can’t even pass out in peace in a stinky back alley for five minutes. No way. The hand shaking me is persistent, not letting me fall back into the black pit.
“Rafe. Come on, fucker, you’re scaring the hell out of me. Open your eyes. Look at me. Rafe, dammit.”
Zane. Figures the bastard won’t let me have a minute’s rest.
“What d’you want?” I slur, struggling to blink. “Fuck.”
“We need to go.”
I drag my gaze up to where Nino is lying on his back. “Before the cops come,” I mutter, seeing the logic in that.
“No, fucker, we need to go because Meg may be in trouble.”
“What?” Wide awake now, I push myself to a sitting position, gritting my teeth against the pain. “The hell you mean?”
“She was coming here to meet us, but she never arrived.”
“Why the fuck was she coming here?”
“To be there for you, goddammit.” Zane grabs my arm and hauls me up. “I sent Dylan to look for her. She was walking from the café here. She told me about that ex-con, but he’s in Philly, right? Not here.”
