Page 93 of Mafia Star

I shoot his right arm, ensuring he won’t go for his gun again. I wait for him to make the next move. He wobbles but staggers a step forward. I shoot him in his left ribs. I purposely miss his lungs. He puts his hand to the wound, as though that’s the one he’s going to have to worry about.

“Your choice. Head or heart?”

I sense the movement to my left. I squeeze the trigger, confident the bullet will land in the center of his forehead. No time for Simms to pick. I pivot on my knee and fire the next round as I realize one of his men was far closer than I sensed. He goes down with a shot through the chest. I move quickly since I’m used to having to shift positions depending on where the clay pigeon is released from.

Simms is lying face up, eyes unseeing to the heavens. I wave the muzzle at the ones still standing, gesturing them away from Marco, Steve, Carmine, and Pauly. My boyfriend walks to me and holds out his hand. I’m happy to relinquish the rifle. I don’t flinch when he shoots the last of them.

It’s only then that I really see everything. Not just the carnage I left. I honestly don’t really care about that. It’s the truck they transported us in. But it’s also the four midsize SUVs that Simms’s people came in. It was like he needed a platoon to fight our squad. I look at my boyfriend, Carmine, and Pauly. Simms truly feared them if he thought he needed this many people to go up against the three of them. He didn’t expect Steve and me joining in the fight. I bend over and rummage in the bag. I pull out three bowie knives. Who the fuck knows what they intended to do with these.

“Do any of you hunt?”

The three boys from Queens look at me like I’ve finally gone and lost my mind.

“Then I don’t want to know how you gained the skills you’re about to use. We gut them.”

I hand one knife to Steve and the other to Pauly. I head to the guy I shot after Simms. Steve’s already headed to one woman. I kneel and use the knife to cut through the shirt. Then I use both hands to press the blade into the body from the sternum to the jeans. God, I hated this part of hunting. I usually had gloves. I pry open the abdomen as best I can without touching much. I pray I don’t regret exposing myself to someone else’s bodily fluids. Marco’s standing over my shoulder, probably horrified, as I cut loose most of the organs. I’ve never done this on a human, but I’ve done it on deer. Same concept.

“Help me roll him.”

Marco hasn’t said a word, letting me work. I haven’t looked at him to see what he thinks about his girlfriend going all Jeffrey Dahmer— minus the cannibalism —on this guy. Marco moves around to help, shaking the body to make everything tumble out.

“They’ll sink if we do this. Then we toss the organs in too. But we have to puncture all the lungs since they’ll float. I know we can’t leave anything behind.”

I look over to where Carmine and Pauly are working on a guy too. Steve’s a far more experienced hunter than I am, so he’s moving faster than any of us. We’re carving the last body when we hear the ferry whistle. Fuck.

There isn’t time to get the corpses into the water along with their organs.

“What’re we going to do?”

I’m finally feeling panicky. Marco tilts his head toward the truck.

“In there.”

I run to a woman and stand behind her head. I grab her sweatshirt at the shoulders and drag her. It would take me twice as long to struggle with a guy than with any of the women here. I do what I can to help, but my guys are stronger and faster. They haul the bodies into the truck. It looks like a fucking black market for organs with shit strewn across the grass. I grab a shovel, and Carmine finds two more. It’s like mucking out horse stalls, except it’s hearts, kidneys, lungs, and intestines— among other slimy, gross shit —being flung into the truck.

Fortunately, the ferry docks on the other side of the island. We won’t go unnoticed for long, but it’s not like they’re pulling in right next to us.

“Get in the SUV, Beth.”

Marco points while Carmine pulls the truck’s rolling door down with a clang. I run to the closest one. We searched pockets as we worked and found the keys to all the vehicles. That’s all good and well, but our clothes. We’re all covered in blood. Now what?

“Car, my belt pulsed.”

I don’t know what that means. I’m almost to the first SUV’s back passenger side door when Pauly calls out. I look at Marco, and he’s not hurrying with another shovelful. I don’t understand.

“Beth, it’s all right. Our belt buckle will pulse when the tracker is deactivated remotely. Our family’s here.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Marco

I watch as three of our SUVs skid to a stop in a semi-circle around our battleground. Out of the center one pours Papa, Uncle Salvatore, Uncle Domenico, and Uncle Cesare. The one to the right has Gabe, Matteo, Luca, Enzo, and Emilio slamming doors. The third contains six of our men. A fourth pulls up a moment later, and I know that’s filled with our guys too. Twenty men to rescue four of us. But that’s not what holds my attention.

My best friend’s older brother is here. The man who was once my older brother’s best friend. The man who sliced Luca’s face when they were fifteen and left him with a scar that runs down his cheek, along his neck, to below his collar. Emilio is not a welcomed member of the family. Uncle Salvatore banished him to Jersey. Uncle Dom, Auntie Carlotta, and Matteo see him, but he’s only allowed near us during Christmas or during missions so dire that we need all hands.

Papa and Uncle Cesare run to us. Uncle Cesare lifts Carmine off the ground. That’s no small feat since my cousin is two-ten, easily. Papa nearly pulls me off my feet as he yanks me into his embrace.

“Scimmietta.” Little monkey.

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