Page 3 of Out of Sight

“I wouldneversteal what isn’t mine,” Antonio said with such amazing conviction I probably would have believed him if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.

“You did! Willie-B, you saw him! Come on, I had the money! I had it all! Willie-Boy, tell him, tell Mr. Morelli I had it all!” he sobbed, the guilt eating at me as he begged me with everything he had.

I remembered a little framed photo hanging behind his counter at the laundromat: Mario Costa with two little girls on his lap, a curvy woman leaning over his shoulder to smileat the camera. This man had a family; he needed me to do something—anything—to stop this craziness before it went any farther.

“I think you should—” I began, but then the knife appeared again as if by magic and took the first finger.

Mario’s screams were horrible. The hair on my arms rose up under my coat and I knew I would remember the bloodcurdling sound of his agony for the rest of my life.

Antonio didn’t need me to take the lead or teach him how to hurt someone—he was confident enough in his sadism to do it all himself. I needed to put a stop to it, but he was still swinging that crazy knife around, excitement in his eyes.

“I get it!” Antonio said. “If we did this in the city there’s no way someone wouldn’t hear us. No wonder we had to go out to the suburbs!” His smile was childlike in its joy.Ah, hell.

I took a step forward, but Antonio was already at it again. I heard another howl of pain from Mario as he lost another finger.

I’d beaten the hell out of men before, but all the gore? When Mario Costa didn’t do anything to deserve it? When he paid the goddamn money and Antonio—and I guess me too since I had a stack on bills weighing down my back pocket—stole from him? It wasn’t right. If you were going to beat someone to death they needed to deserve it.

Antonio put his bloody hands up in the air, dancing to some unheard music as he celebrated his lunacy, slicing the knife through the nothingness in front of him, his movements so erratic I’d never get close enough to disarm him throughstealth.

“Why are you short on Morelli’s money, huh? You think he forgives easily?”

Another finger with another scream.

“You think I forgive?”

And another.

“You think Willie-Boy does?” And there went the thumb. “Well, this hand is useless. Might as well get rid of it altogether!”

I had to watch as Antonio sawed that serrated edge back and forth. It sickened me, but I kept my eyes open, mouth closed, and waited for my opening. But how could I stop it? Even if I caused a distraction, Mario had a kneecap broken in. He couldn’t run away. Could he?

“Hey, Antonio man, even out in the middle of nowhere he’s being a bit loud.” I waited for Mario’s next scream to taper off before continuing. “I’m gonna turn on the car radio to drown him out.”

I did my best to meet Mario’s eyes as I turned the key in the ignition, revving the engine to make it obvious the car was on and running. Only then did I turn up the music, leaving the door wide open. Antonio stopped for the moment, looking at me curiously, so I took the opportunity to approach, walking toward them as casually as I could manage.

“Give me-”

I cut myself off to get my bearings together. There was a lot of blood already.

“Give me the knife.”

Antonio looked a little disappointed—fucking sadist—but handed it over before backing up to take my place at the trunk of the car.

I held the knife up to Mario’s neck, right below his ear, and leaned in close. Keeping a menacing look on my face, I tried to ignore the whimper he let out.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I whispered. “Do you think you can make a run for the car?”

“I… I don’t so.”

“This is your only chance. If you don’t make it he’s gonna kill you anyway, so why not at least try?” He whimpered again. “You’ve got kids, man. They need you to try.”

Mario elbowed me in the gut and pushed himself out of my grip so fast that the knife sliced through his ear. The piece of dismembered cartilage fell into my hands, horrifying me with the squish of his earlobe between my fingers. I fumbled around until I dropped it on the ground, nearly falling down on it as I gagged.

Mario didn’t even flinch as he hurled himself toward the car, staggering and stumbling. He wanted to live.

I got over my disgust quickly and bolted upright, “accidentally” entangling myself with Antonio as he made a grab for Mario, but Mario was already lunging into the driver’s seat.

Almost there.

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