Page 39 of O'Mega's Revenge
“Threats will get you dead.” One of Nonno’s boys spoke out of turn.
He shushed them with a raised hand. “It’s best this way.”
“Oh, hell to the no,” Missile glared and adjusted her aim. Her finger hovered over the trigger.
Trot began to speak, but I stood up and wiped the blood from my hands onto my jeans.
“I remember your hospitality. I didn’t like it.”
“See? She ain’t going.”
Ignoring Missile, I continued. “Give me assurances I, or any of my sisters, won’t be treated like that by you or your men or anyone in your circle, and I’ll go.” I could handle Nonno.
“Tits,” Trot warned.
“No, the sooner this gets figured out the sooner you can …” My throat closed. I was going to say, “Help Margaret,” but she was beyond anyone’s help. We all knew it. I finished with a lame, “clean things up around here.” My heart broke. What was left of my good side crumbled and got torn into pieces. A beast rose inside me. I would take them all down. I would work from the inside and eat at them like cancer until their entire world was ashes.
Because my own world was already there. If I was going to linger in this hell, I’d take every one of my enemies down with me. And to do that, I needed to be close. Knife blade close.
Wolf stood at my back. “It ain’t going to go down like that anymore.” His hand squeezed my shoulder.
“Told ya he caught feelings.”
Nonno frowned at Jackson.
“She is making the bargains here.” He addressed me to continue bargaining.
“For your cooperation, not one of mine will cage you, hurt you, or treat you with anything but respect. Jackson, that extends to your men.”
Jackson nodded with a short dip of his head. Then he ruined it. “Wolf, that means you, too.”
“Fuck you. She’s not going.”
“Like she’ll listen to you. But I had to ask, you know?”
I didn’t want to think of Wolf. So, I spoke up. “Deal. Why do you need me?”
Nonno smiled. “The Surgeon is back.”
My heart dropped to my feet. That couldn’t be true. I’d killed him. He was dead.
“Bullshit,” I whispered.
Wolf’s hand tightened too much, and it hurt.
I turned on him. “You knew?”
His face was a study in torment. “Yeah.”
“Who the fuck is the Surgeon? Some boogeyman? Are we supposed to be impressed or scared or something?” Missile laughed and lowered her rifle.
“Sounds like a bad villain name to me,” Quick quipped.
“Personally, I’d go with something scarier like ‘the dentist’ or some shit,” Trot added her two cents.
They didn’t know.
“He was a plastic surgeon for the mob, and an enforcer.”
