Page 88 of Delivered in White

It took a fucking shootout and the heat of a bullet to realize it?

One look at my side shows a stain of blood on my polo. Nothing that’s going to stop me.

Woosh!

The back casino door swings open, and out steps an angry card player dual-wielding pistols in a suit like some kind of action star. Frankie’s still screaming about the dead bouncer and no hearing in one ear.

Bff!

Another thug comes stomping out.

“The prick took off like a bat out of hell. Valentino scum. C’mon!” They head toward the front door, and I’m as still as a cheetah waiting for my moment to strike. I need leverage if Nicky took Capri.

What if he shot her point-blank?

I clench my jaw at the sick thought, adrenaline mixing with anger. It makes me want to dive right back into the casino and strangle Frankie with my bare hands.

Bff!

Two more run out with guns drawn. They’re splitting up like morons, heading in every which direction. I even hear a car starting.

Me and Snaps didn’t rehearse any of this, but I gotta trust my man to do the right thing. Get back up, or something smart.Don’t make me regret having faith in you, Timmy. I swear to fucking God.

My hands are ripped to shreds from strangling the bouncer, but I pull out another tight string anyway.

I’m crouched, inching toward the door.

There’s only two of them left in there. Frankie and a card player. I didn’t notice any made guys besides him, so…whenI get out of this, I’ll only have to atone for one sin in the mafia’s eyes.

Nah, I better kiss my capo wishes goodbye after this one.

God, if they fucking hurt Capri…

Bff!

When the door knocks open again, I lunge like a wolf and wrap the next man in a voiceless strangle. My foot stops the door from closing fully, and I embrace the struggle of the card player. I want him upright and kicking… so I can use him.

Woosh!

I kick the door open and shove the card player toward the last remaining guy in the back room – Frankie. He wasn’t anticipating that, nor my steel grip stringing him up around his neck. The disoriented man wouldn’t dare shoot Nicky’s second-in-command, so I take Frankie’s pistol out of the back of his pants and shoot the card player awkwardly trying to reorient himself.

“Shh.” I press the hot barrel an inch from Frankie’s head. “Not a word. Nod if you understand.”

With a snarl, he does as I ask.

“Using your finger, point to my cell.”

He leads me toward a drawer. I’m careful to tighten the string around his throat the closer we get. I’m not tolerating any funny business, as if the gurgling soon-to-be corpse on the floor wasn’t proof enough.

“Nicky’s gonna have your head,Knots,” Frankie’s voice is strained. “It ain’t too late to rethink this. No made guys got kille—” He chokes and reaches desperately for the string.

“Shut the fuck up,” I warn, reaching for my cell.

Amid the coughing, the door creaks open, and before I turn—

“Don’tfucking move.” One of the card players taps his gun on the door to assure I’m not in position to turn. Heat centers around the back of my head, where I suspect the gun is aimed. “Nice try, Knots. Really good fucking try.” He opens the door fully to inch into the casino. “Something was itching me, telling me you didn’t flee for some reason. Then I heard the gunshots.”

Frankie chuckles in my grasp. “Four of a kind, buddy. You’re outmatched. Now get your grubby hands off my neck.”

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