Page 43 of Tainted Love

“You, too, big brother.”

The line goes dead. I flip the phone over to tug out the battery and the SIM card before smashing all of it and tossing into the trash.

Fucking hell. This is all worse than I thought it was. Part of me knew this day would come but I never expected it to happen so soon. I thought I’d have two bullets in my eyes ages before something like this went down. It’s unprecedented and downright fucking scary. If it’s not the cops or the mafia gunning for me, it might be other Snake Eyes agents looking to turncoat and bargain out of spending the rest of their lives in prison by giving up as many of us as possible. You think there’s no honor amongst thieves? Try dropping a loaded gun into a room of desperate killers and see what that’s like.

I throw on my suit and grab my bag as a car door slams outside on the street below. I stand up and peek outside, paranoia crawling up my spine.

It’s just a mom piling her kids into the car. Frown lines crumble on her face. She’s clearly holding back every swear word in the English language behind her tight lips, possibly some in Italian given the neighborhood we live in. I can’t blame her. I’m tired of this shit, too.

I scan the rest of the street and spot an unmarked black car sitting at the corner. I grip my gun a little tighter, squinting to try and make out the driver’s face.

The door opens and Marty Zappia steps outside.

Fucking hell.

Watching today’s news must have been like Christmas morning for the brat. I can just imagine him sitting there, his lips curling with delight as the anchor went on and on about Snake Eyes and the black cobra tattoo that oddly looks just like mine.

Daddy, please. Let me do him. I’ll make you proud. I promise.

I wasn’t exactly planning on killing Marty Zappia, but I guess there are worse ways to spend a shitty morning.

He jaunts across the street, heading straight toward my front door. I pull away from the curtains before his little, weasel eyes find me. Right now, I have the advantage and I have to keep it.

I go back to my bag to grab the silencer hidden in the front pocket. No sense in alerting the neighbors, especially since I already have one dead body stashed in my living room. I twist it onto my gun’s barrel and sidle back to the window.

Marty’s gone. Most likely sneaking around to the back garden to catch me by surprise. He’s an idiot, sure, but not stupid enough to knock on the front door.

The doorbell rings.

I may have spoken too soon on that one.

I move down the stairs with my bag, keeping light on my toes, watching his shape behind the translucent windows. His shoulders are down, almost calm and casual. Maybe this isn’t his big day after all.

I drop the bag in the corner and shift the gun behind my back before cracking the door open.

“Hey, Hart!” he greets with a smile.

“Marty…” I scan his body. Both of his hands sit by his sides, not stuffed into his pockets with his fingers wrapped around a trigger. “What’s up?”

“I, uh…” His smile twitches on his dull face. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Can I come in?”

Not with my dead mentor on the couch. “Now isn’t really the best time, Marty.”

“What, you got that girl in there or something?”

“Something like that.”

“I’ll only take a minute.”

My finger slides over the trigger. He’s pushing a little too hard to get in here. “Let’s talk later at the casino, all right?”

Marty lays a hand on the door. “This is a bit too sensitive for the casino, Hart.”

Son-of-a-bitch. If I keep resisting, he’ll know for sure something is wrong. “Fine,” I say, sliding the gun into my belt behind my back. “I can spare a minute.”

He holds up his hands. “That’s all I need.”

I open the door wider and he steps inside. I keep my eyes on his hands and jacket, looking for any pooches that might indicate he’s holding. If he came into my place completely unarmed, then Marty Zappia outright deserves to die. His old man might even thank me for purifying the gene pool.

---