Page 10 of Rotten Men

“Whatever. I’m sure you’ll find more than enough entertainment to keep you busy there.” I play off, not wanting to get into real talk with the man at my side.

Those types of private conversations I leave to have with my family—and that’s Vince and Gio; the only ones who understand and are living the same shit I am, day in and day out. Ciro wouldn’t get it, and frankly, apart from breaking bones and going out to drink the night away, there isn’t enough of a bond to link us together. Not even close to the strong bond we three share with each other.

I doubt there are many friendships like ours anyway.

Doubt any heartache and love like ours does either.

I quickly move our conversation along, away from any melancholic themes, to more mundane syndicate issues. Such as, which young associate is showing talent, and should be initiated; or whichcaponeeds more manpower in his crew. Talking shop always gets my mind focused, and I know Ciro is the same way. Soon enough we’re back to more pertinent topics than talking about feelings and shit—those fuckers I keep a tight lid on. And no way are they coming out in front of Ciro of all people. Aside from his little slip of the tongue, I’ve never known him to be anything else than a cold-blooded killer. And that particular attribute suits me just fine.

Once we reach the farm, I belt out a whistle, warning the men inside the rustic barn of our arrival.

“So, who do you have?” Ciro asks, patting my large black duffle bag.

“Just some tech geek who thought he could swindle money out of us without us being the wiser. The idiot was taking ten cents out of every transaction we were getting from the online gambling ring, thinking he was smooth by taking such a small amount. Doubt the scumbag knew he’d make three million in two days.” I laugh, shaking my head at some people’s poor decision-making when money is on the line.

“Idiot, in his panic, got careless and came up with the excuse he needed to leave town to take care of a sick grandma. We had done a full background check, and it turns out he had no living relatives whatsoever. Kid didn’t even have time to enjoy it before Gio asked me to pay him a visit this morning.” I shrug unbothered. Sure, I felt for the foolish kid trying to pull one over on us, but he knew exactly who he was dealing with the minute he took the job. It’s his own damned fault he didn’t stay loyal.

“It’s hard to get something past ourconsigliere, isn’t it?” Ciro remarks, emotionless.

“I pity the fool who tries,” I admit. “So, who do you got there? What’s your trash about?”

“Nobody,” he replies, blasé as always.

“Nobody? Really? Looks mighty heavy for a nobody,” I state, racking my fingers over my beard.

“Doesn’t mean he was a somebody. Didn’t like how he looked at me, so now he’s a nobody,” Ciro answers, indifferently, as if we were talking about the weather and not the life he took out on a whim.

“That’s cold, man, even for us. Whoever you whacked must have been something to someone, Ciro. Doesn’t make you less of a man admitting it, either,” I tell him, giving my own two cents on the matter.

Sure, I’m not opposed to my line of work. Someone who targets thefamigliashould be disposed of accordingly. But senseless death isn’t something I can condone. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not the bloodthirsty beast everyone thinks me to be. I’m just really fucking good at my job because I believe in the Outfit wholeheartedly. Especially since Vince and Gio took over; they are the only family I know, and I would die for them without missing a beat. But that doesn’t change the fact that a life, no matter how rotten it is, should still be viewed as precious. That’s one of the few certainties I still have, specifically because I do the shit I do. Taking out the light from someone’s eyes isn’t easy, but I have the comfort of knowing that, if I didn’t do it, then the dying soul being choked by my hands would harm the organization, one that has looked out for me since I was just a scrawny, hungry kid. But killing someone just for the sake of killing isn’t my style or the way I ever intend to live my life.

The result of being such a man stands right next to me.

An unfeeling, empty shell of a man.

That’s no way to live a life.

Some parts of me—my broken heart for one—might be dead to the world, but I still have my soul. I have no doubt that Ciro lost his, long before he even knew what to do with it.

A loud whistle breaks my train of thought, and I tilt my head up to see three farm hands walk in our direction. With just a quick nod of recognition from the gray-haired pig farmer, his companions take our bags from us, and I slip him a cool thousand for their troubles.

“You fellas burn the hair and bash the skulls?” the younger jean-clad man questions suspiciously.

“Of course. Pulled the teeth and crushed the hip bones, too. Think this is my first rodeo, dickhead?” I growl at the insult. I take pride in my job, and effectively disposing of bodies is an important part of the gig.

“I apologize on his behalf, Mr. Mancini. The boy is still new and learning the ropes,” the older man interjects, glaring daggers at his new employee to keep his trap shut.

“Make sure next time he knows who he’s talking to, or he’ll be the one in a duffel bag,” Ciro huffs out, forcefully closing the trunk and strolling back to the front seat.

All three men grow pale at the comment, the older ones knowing full well thatThe Thorndoesn’t warn anyone twice.

“Guess your new boy is lucky as well as stupid. Had my boss not liked his face, you’d have another body to feed the greedy hogs. Must be his lucky night.” I announce, patting the old timer on the shoulder, and rushing to get my own ass back in the car before Ciro changes his mind.

My day started out with a burial. I don’t want to end it with another.

I’ve had enough death for one day.

Four

---