Page 44 of The Hitman's Secret Love Child

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Gabriel Salvatore

“Boss.”

Pausing with my drink, a rum and coke, to my lips I stared up at my second-in-command, Cain Ramirez. Cain looked nervous, his dark eyes shifting from side to side but refusing to make eye contact, which meant he had bad news. I had a reputation for having a quick temper. The last person to give me bad news had an unfortunate accident with the F train. Accidents happen.

“Fucking spit it out, I don’t have all day.” I motioned to the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked one of my clubs. Drugs flowed freely here – at least my drugs did. No one else dared deal on my turf. Any unlucky bastard to unwittingly deal here was given a lesson in manners for their first offense. Let’s just say their second offense would be their last. “I have a club to run.” Truth be known, it ran quite well without me, though I did have a shipment coming in in an hour that I had to be there for.

“Chester.”

“What about him?” Fuck me senseless, all this pussyfooting around the topic was going to get Cain a fucking bullet in the head.

“He’s dead.”

I leaned back into my leather desk chair and downed the drink in its entirety. “Fucking druggie. Did the idiot go off and OD himself?” Chester had been my first-in-command. He was an idiot and a user, but he was a loyal idiot and in my type of business loyalty was king so I trusted him with many of my most important matters, such as the termination of my bitch of a wife, Robyn.

But I was fond of the kid and he adored dear old Daddy. Once she was out of the picture the kid would belong to me and I’d groom him to take over my empire as he came of age. He was a smart little fucker – even at five years old you could see the kid was destined for great things.

“He was found in the shitter of a subway station with his throat slit.”

Well, that would explain why he hadn’t reported back to me on the hitman he’d hired or Robyn. “So was it a random act, some junkie not get the shit he needed so took matters into his own hands or…”

“The police are looking into it.” Cain shifted from one foot to another. There was more he wasn’t telling me. I had had enough of his hesitating.

Grabbing the revolver that was mounted under my desktop, I pointed it at Cain. “Fucking spit it out or I swear to God I’ll blow your motherfuckin’ brains out all over this office.”

“Robyn has disappeared. We may have waited too long and she may have already cut a deal with the feds.”

“Fucking whore!” I saw red, rage filling me fuelled by the effects of the cocaine I’d snorted not too long ago. I don’t snort often – dealers who snort too much of their own product don’t stay in business for long – but I’d been on edge ever since that little bitch left. My finger squeezed the trigger and the gun sounded. My aim was off, missing the target of his forehead and whizzing past his head, but coming so close that it grazed his ear. Cain screamed out, his hands going to his bleeding ear.

“She may not have. I just know she’s gone.” There was sheer terror in his eyes, but Cain didn’t run, he took the bullet like a champ. He was a good grunt. My new first-in-command, it would appear. Of course, if he had tried to run I would have just shot the coward in the back and done the world a favor.

“I want you to track down that useless hitman we hired and put a bullet in his worthless head. No one takes my money and doesn’t deliver. And I want you to find Robyn.”

“And then what, Sir? If she’s in police custody, it’ll be hard to get to her.”

“Find a way, be creative, whatever it takes and bring her to me. I want to see that cunt die with my own eyes, no more leaving this shit to chance.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Now get out of here and clean up, you’re bleeding on my floor.”

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