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It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s the source of the trouble.
Fabio takes aim and opens fire.
Pedestrians in the area break out into screams and run for cover.
Clay’s menacing air evaporates as he desperately ducks down a side alley between two buildings.
Due to the commotion, the rest of our security team flood the scene from where they were on standby. They dart down the same alley to chase after him.
Fabio checks on me. “You okay, Mrs. Phi?”
I’m breathing unevenly, my hand on my slightly protruding stomach. “Not at all. That was the guy who wrote me. Clay’s his name. He wanted me to come with him.”
“Let’s get you home. This day trip’s over. I’ll phone Psycho and let him know what happened. Thatcazzolooked familiar.”
I say nothing, though a million thoughts fill up my head. Above all, Aunt Bea’s insistence that I throw out Clay’s letter.
Toburnit.
What does this man want with me and my family?
18
clay
Damn.Damn.Damn.
Minutes into my scheme, I’m fleeing like a pussy.
I’ve got no other choice. Mancino’s guys flooded the scene out of nowhere. They weren’t fucking around. They meant business, blasting the sidewalk up with bullets to get me any way they could.
Leontine’s daughter wasn’t supposed to ring the alarm.
She was supposed to be too curious to turn down my offer.
I’ve always been a smooth talker—a big reason I caught Leontine in the first place was using my words, my infectious personality, and what some call charm or swag.
Leontine fell for it. Turns out, her daughter isn’t as easily swayed. Must be the side she gets from her father.
I flee into a narrow alley way, dodging bullets and formulating an escape route. These guys might think they’re hard, but I’ve been in the business since many of them were in diapers. I can hang with the best of ‘em.
My name speaks for itself—Killer Clay was an urban legend in the 70s and 80s. Few dealt with me face to face. Though the second they did, they bowed down and recognized my power.
A couple bullets ain’t going to stop me. I know these streets better than anybody.
I climb up a fire escape of an old building and disappear into the first open window. They lose sight of me from there—they dash down the alleyway searching and thinking I became a ghost.
In reality, I’ve made myself disappear for a little while.
My age has caught up with me. I don’t move around as easily as I used to. That quick escape act has me huffing out a few breaths with sweat on my brow.
If I’d known Delphine would be so much damn trouble, I would’ve brought back up.
My phone rings as I’m mulling over my next move.
“Boss,” Andre says, sounding busy. “It’s done. We chased down Mancino.”
“Finally some fucking good news. You took him out?”
