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It only took thirty seconds of being in the crowd to spot Franco. Seeing him walking so casually through the huge group of guests creates a deep sense of disgust within me. Why the fuck does he get to walk free to enjoy a wedding while my brother is rotting in prison? It’s his fault, and I’m going to make sure his last moments are filled with remorse and terror.
I’m much calmer than I expected to be under such circumstances, and I’m hoping that this isn’t just a fluke before my resolve breaks and I lose my shit. The past five weeks have been consumed with this moment playing in my head on repeat without reprieve. I need to stay focused, but I fear I’ll lose my head.
He’s walking straight for the bathroom, probably to do some key bumps and stave off the inevitable boredom that comes with the cocktail hour of a traditional wedding. I can’t say I blame him there, but it does put him perfectly where I need him.
The crowd of people begins to flood the lobby area, temporarily blocking me from seeing the bathroom door that’s around forty feet away. I’m frustrated by the setback, but I figure that having more people around will just be more cover for me if nobody is suspicious of me in the first place. I’ve planned this moment down to a science, and I’m not about to let it get fucked up.
I watch him enter, waiting a few minutes behind him in order to keep suspicion at bay. So far, I haven’t felt like we’ve had any eyes on us, but it’s too big of a risk to get sloppy now.
When I decide to strike, I feel for my pistol. I know exactly where it is. He won’t see it coming at all.
I push the door open, entering the bathroom, where I find Franco pissing in one of the urinals. How appropriate.
There are stalls right behind him placed perfectly in a way that would allow me to shove him into one of them and cut his lights out without much issue. He doesn’t even know I’m in here. He’s too oblivious as he stares down at his own disgusting worm of a cock.
With my gun drawn, I do a quick scan to make sure that there’s nobody else in here with us before I creep up behind him, covering his mouth as I drag him into the stall behind us.
He’s just as distraught as I expected him to be and far worse prepared. He has no weapons on him as far as I can tell, and he hasn’t reached for anything to defend himself with. So far, all he’s done is start screaming behind my hand.
“Shut the fuck up, you fucking narc. I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, and if you make one sound, I’m going to blow your brains all over this toilet. Is that what you want? You want your brains to be scraped off a toilet?”
He shakes his head hysterically, nearly in tears after nothing but a threat. For someone who has garnered the respect of so many high-profile criminals, this dude is a bigger pussy than I could have imagined. He must be bankrolling all of them to the ends of the earth.
As soon as I remove my hand from his mouth, I slam him into the wall of the bathroom stall to keep him from attempting to flee. Fortunately for me, the walls are sturdy enough not to make a sound when his back connects with the surface.
So far, this is going better than planned.
“Who are you? Why are you doing this?” he cries, almost collapsing to the floor as he silently begs for his life. “What’s this about?”
The fact that he doesn’t immediately jump to his own defense tells me that he knows he’s guilty ofsomething,maybe multiple somethings. I could be doing the rest of the world a huge favor by taking this motherfucker out.
“I want you to guess, you little bitch,” I growl, putting only inches between us. I need him to feel the wrath as it radiates from me. Every remaining minute of his life will feel like an eternity of torment, just like he deserves. “Does the name Enzo Costa sound familiar to you?”
His face turns ashen, a premonition of his not-so-distant future. “This is about Enzo Costa?”
I reach up and choke him hard with my free hand. “Yes. It is. Why did you testify against him?!”
He bursts into tears, snot-nosed like a child who got caught playing with a lighter after he’s burned himself. “I didn’t want to! I really didn’t! I felt like I had no choice!”
“I don’t give a fuck what you felt. You know you deserved to go to prison instead of him. Just admit that,” I reply, holding the tip of my pistol to his forehead.
He starts to shake and sob again. “I don’t understand! I wasn’t going to testify. I had no plans to do so. I was threatened with life in prison and given a plea deal. You would have done the same!”
I press the gun harder into his head, making an imprint on his skin. “You think I would have let my own brother take the fall for a crime he didn’t commit?”
As soon as he hears me say the wordbrother,his eyes widen in terror. “Enzo was your brother?”
Now heknowshe’s going to die.
I’d do anything to watch him continue to suffer at the horror of his consequences, but I hear the bathroom door open before I’m able to torment him any longer.
“Please help me! He has a fucking gun to my head!” Franco shouts loud enough to split my eardrums.
Now is the time for action. I fire two rounds into him, one in his forehead and then another into his chest as he falls to the floor.
If I have to kill a civilian to prevent myself from being caught, I will, but it wasn’t a part of my plan.
I burst out of the stall, gun drawn, surprised and relieved to see June standing there. She’s stunned, throwing her hands up as soon as she sees my pistol pointed at her. Otherwise, she’s alone and unharmed.
