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“You think you can come here and intimidate me? On my property? You think you new school wiseguys got anything on somebody like me? Baby, I’mold school! I’m not sweating either of you—one’s a cocky asshole with an anger problem. The other’s a son of a bitch who belongs in a straitjacket. Fuck both of you!” Claro rants, his saggy face purpling.
For being grubby and fat-fingered, his hands are quick. He reaches into the waistband of his pants, grappling for his piece. It’s within his grip when four bullets puncture his chest, the loud gunshots reverberating beyond the den.
Claro’s white dress shirt darkens as red blood leaks from his wounds. He stumbles back a couple of steps and then crashes sideways. I step back to make room for his fall. His body thuds against the hardwood floor, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Gio steps closer, pointing his pistol downward, aiming for his face this time. Before he pulls the trigger again, he glances up at me.
“Do you want to do the honors?” he asks. He extends the pistol in my direction for me to take. “Since this is the last thing we’ll ever do as brothers.”
He’s right. I can’t predict what will happen after this, but there’s something final about this moment. Though as twins we’ve never been close, and our relationship has always been more of a tense rivalry, this last time as brothers means something. Even through my numbness, I know this.
It’s special. One last hurrah. Ending our uncle for good.
I take the pistol from my brother and aim at Claro between the eyes. “Goodbye.”
