Page 67 of Filthy Little Games

“Do I look like a fucking cop?” I gesture with both hands toward my custom suit, letting him also see that I’m not armed.

“Guess not.”

“I’m Creed Ferraro.”

With another swear, he scurries into the driver seat as if to leave. So, I take a seat on the hood. “Get out of the damn car. Either you’re a wannabe gangster or you’re a pussy. What’s it going to be, Eugene?”

After a long moment, he opens the squeaky car door and steps back out.

“What do you want from me? Did you hurt Zara?”

“No, I haven’t and wouldn’t hurt Zara. But she is staying with me now. And she sent me to give you the envelope full of cash in my suit pocket. I’ll give it to you if you put your gun on the hood.”

“How much money?” he asks curiously.

“You’ll find out after you give up the gun.”

“Fine,” he huffs. “It’s not loaded anyway. Can’t afford bullets.” He places the weapon down on the hood near the windshield wipers, as far away from where I’m sitting as possible.

Standing up to face him again, the boy tenses as if he’s about to take off on foot. I reach into my jacket to retrieve the envelope and hear his exhale of relief when I offer it to him. He snatches it from my fingers and immediately starts thumbing through the bills.

“Holy shit! How much is this?”

“Ten grand. And it’s just the start. You can keep that cash with no strings attached. If you want more, you’ll get that much in cash every week in exchange for agreeing to work for me.”

His fingers tighten around the envelope. He looks up at me through the eyeholes of his mask. “I don’t get it. What’s the catch?”

“The catch is that you do what I say, stop pretending to rob stores, and keep your mouth shut about my business.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. There will be risks involved in the work, but you’ll also have my protection. What’s your last name, Eugene?”

He only hesitates for a moment. “Gallo. It’s Eugene Gallo, sir.”

“Gallo? Your family have any Italian in your blood.”

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Find out. If so, in eight years, if you’ve proven yourself to be loyal, then you can move up the ranks, become one of my men.”

“But…why me?”

“Because Zara says you’re a good kid, doing what you need to do to raise your sisters. And if you keep doing that shit on your own, one day, probably not too far in the future, you’re going to get caught, thrown in prison for life, and never see them again.”

“Is that a threat?”

Chuckling, I tell him, “No, kid. It’s a fact. Not everyone is as amenable to being robbed as my wife.”

“Your wife is Zara?!” I shouldn’t have let that shit slip like that.But I can’t seem to help myself. I want everyone in the fucking world to know who my wife is, even though it’s too risky to announce.

“That’s your first test, Eugene Gallo. Nobody knows Zara and I are married, except three people who, without a doubt, would take a bullet for me. If anyone else finds out, I’ll know it was you, and I won’t be happy.”

“Fuck, man. Who would I tell?”

“I don’t know. Who would you tell?”

“Nobody,” he replies. “I don’t talk to anyone.”

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