Page 755 of The Tempted

The G-Man didn’t flinch as he continued to eat, ignoring the war raging around him and the man headed for him.

I pull my shirt out of my pants, my hands closing over the metal as my form casts a shadow over the man I’ve been hunting for since he ordered the hit on me.

He calls himself a boss, a fucking leader, but he isn’t worthy of the title andthis boss, is about to strip him from the label he cherishes. A boss doesn’t order a hit and miss the mark. A boss doesn’t kill the wrong man and never gets a chance to get the right one. A boss doesn’t rest until he gets revenge. A boss does things his way—until he’s dead and buried.

I’m the boss.

And it’s time for me to rest.

The G-Man’s tongue takes a swipe across the plastic spoon, licking the remnants of the pudding as he lifts his head.

The flicker of surprise spikes my adrenaline, transfixes me back to the man I was thirty years ago and for a moment, I’m not dying. I don’t have fucking cancer and I didn’t just say goodbye to the people I love. I am the fucking man who ruled the most powerful organization in New York City.

I am the legend.

I pull the scissors from the waistband of my pants and watch as his lips move. His words are deaf to my ears as he grips the edge of the table and slowly rises. The lights flash around the room alerting me that the prison is on lockdown.

I’ve created a riot and now before the riot squad comes barreling in here with their guns blazing I’ve got to do what I came here to do.

He continues to talk with every step I take toward him. In my mind he’s begging me not to kill him but my conscience knows better and tries to get me to listen to what he’s preaching.

I don’t though.

I lift my gaze from his running mouth to his eyes and spot the black ink just beneath the corner of his eye.

Three little dots that resemble tear drops, a trademark for gang members when they take a life. One of those tear drops represents the life and death of my underboss. I pull the scissors out and lift them in the air.

Forgive me father for I have sinned.

He lunges for me as I rear my hand back and push the blunt tip of the scissors right into his jugular. The instant the metal pierces his vein blood squirts from his neck, spraying over my face.

For I have committed murder.

His hands close around his neck as he sputters blood from his mouth and begins to bleed out from his neck. A moment later he drops to his knees and falls face first at my feet, staining my white canvas sneakers with his blood.

Forgive me father for I have performed my last hit.

The scissors fall to the floor as a pair of hands tighten around my neck and drag me to the floor.

I close my eyes and see my Gracie’s face before everything fades to black.

Forgive me Gracie

---