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“This ain’t my problem,” I snapped.
That was when I heard the ominous sound of sirens roaring. Glancing up, I cried out in shock as the alley outside the bedroom window was filled with the cherry and blueberry lights, flashing frantically.
“Fuck!”
“Come on,” Silvio said. “We gotta get you out of here.”
I struggled to pull on my pants and shirt. Just as Silvio was helping me out of the room, the front door to the hideout burst open and cops flooded into the foyer like a dirty river. They spotted me instantly.
I shrugged. “Sorry boys,” I said. “Didn’t feel like staying in tonight.”
One of the cops launched forward, grabbing my wrists and twisting them behind my back. It hurt, but I grit my teeth, determined not to make a fucking sound.
“I oughta shoot you right now,” the cop growled in my ear. “You know how much I hate scum like you?”
I grinned. “Oh, baby,” I said with a smirk. “That’s how I like to hear it.”
The cop growled. He cuffed my
wrists, then shoved me forward. I stumbled and almost fell, but then my feet recovered and I walked out into the alley.
A girl was standing there, watching me with a triumphant look on her face. At first, I thought she was deformed – her eyes were almost swollen shut, and there was a purple bruise around her fat lower lip. She had pale skin and dark brown hair. We locked eyes.
“Who the fuck are you?” I yelled as the cops hustled me closer to the car. “You get the fuck away from me, you cunt!”
The girl didn’t move. She didn’t seem fazed by my insults.
As the cops shoved me in the backseat, the girl didn’t take her eyes away from me. The car began slowly pulling away, sirens flashing.
The girl’s mouth broke out into a wide grin.
I don’t know who you are, I thought with hatred in my heart. But if you’re responsible for this, I’m going to find you and make you wish you’d never been born.
--
I was barely awake in the morning when Monty came in with a suit for me to wear to court.
“Hey, Alessio,” Monty said. He snapped his fingers in front of my face and it took every ounce of strength not to grab his hand and snap his wrist.
“Shut the fuck up,” I growled. I rolled over on my prison cot, clutching the threadbare pillow to my chest.
“Alessio, you gotta get the fuck up,” Monty said. He snapped his fingers in the air again. The sound was the most annoying thing I’d ever heard, and I launched myself out of bed and wrapped my hands around his throat.
“You do that one more time,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “You do that one more time and I’ll fucking kill you, you cocksucker.”
Monty’s face paled before turning a shade of blue clearly showed his lack of oxygen. He gasped for air and finally I released him, shaking and sweating. Monty bent over and rested his hands on his knees.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Monty panted. “Now get into that fucking seat. I’m not going to court with someone who looks like a goddamned convict.”
The suit didn’t fit – it was clearly one that Monty had borrowed from Silvio – but it was better than showing up in an orange jumpsuit. I shrugged on the jacket and fastened the pants after sucking in a titanic gasp of air.
“Come on,” Monty said. “Time to go, big shot.”
I rolled my eyes at him as the guards led me out of the door and through the small corridor to the courtroom. Being held in the tank was the fuckin’ pits, but I was smart enough to know that if I went upriver to the Big House, things would be a hell of a lot worse.
I snickered as the guard led me into the courtroom. It was packed with shouting lawyers, drunks with their heads in their hands, and tired-looking judges. The guard shoved me down on a bench next to Monty. Monty wasn’t looking at me, he was flipping through his notes and scowling.
“Hey, man, what the fuck is the plan,” I hissed. “We only got a few minutes before this show starts. What are they gonna do?”
