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“Ouch,”I whisper to him with a grin.
“Says you.” He looks down at the dead guy on the ground next to me.
Footsteps signal Vince joining us, and we walk towards the boat.
There’s only one guy that I can see, and he’s tying up the boat.
I press my gun against the back of his head, and he stills.
“Guns.” I bark at him. “Load them in that van. Now.”
“Eh?” He turns to face me, the tip of my gun now at the center of his forehead. He looks past me, to Frankie and Vince on either side of me, and then down.
I laugh as the shock appears on his face when he spots the bodies.“I see you’ve spotted your friends back there.”
“I-I am not part of this. I’m just the delivery guy.” His voice quivers.
I jab the barrel hard enough to leave a half-circle cut on his head. “Load the guns into the truck. Tell Romano there is only one way to ship his guns into New York and that’s through Luca Russo.”
He steps back, nodding frantically and calling in Italian to someone in the boat.
Frankie pulls his own pistol up as a young guy appears at the steps, shaking like a leaf.
“Go on, then.” I shove the old man with my gun.
Once they load up the back of the truck, Frankie slams the doors shut.
“You sort out the mess here, V,”I say while I’m texting the quantities to Enzo.
“You got it.”The short Russian herds the two boatmen back towards the docks.
Frankie hops in the truck. Not a single hair is out of place on his head. This life comes naturally to him.
I hit send on the text and look up at him. “Good job. Get those back to our warehouse. Keep them hidden, the less people that know about this, the better.”
He doesn’t say a word, just drops his chin before firing up the diesel and backing out of the alley.
My boots kick along the gravel. I should have gone with him to make sure everything gets well covered.
Something is screaming at me to get home.
To get to her.
* * *
By the timeI get there, it’s two in the morning. I’m careful as I creep past the guest bedroom, not wanting to disturb Rosa.
I head into the en-suite and wash the blood off my hands. The water swirls a deep red. Gripping onto the side of the sink, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is tousled, with splatters of blood smothering my white shirt and speckled all the way up my neck. My jacket and shirt get tossed in the ever-growing pile of laundry. It takes forever to scrub the dried crust from under my nails.
Turning on the shower and cranking the heat up, I stop as I go to take off my pants. I swear to God, that sounds like yelling. I rush out of the room into the hallway.
Screams rip from Rosa’s room.
“Get off me!”I can hear the panic in her voice.
What the fuck? I dart back into my room and snatch the gun off of my bedside table. I slowly push open her door with my weapon at the ready, then flick on the light.
Her cries get louder. I scan the room and she’s in bed, wrapped up in the blanket, but rolling around and shrieking in agony.
