Page 32 of O'Mega's Revenge
The reminder being this was a brotherhood. Go after one of us, you go after all of us.
His beady eyes scanned my brothers.
“At least you aren’t stupid. I will reprimand the help.” He motioned for Nonno to get up. “Three days, Nonno. The debt is still owed.”
With that, his entourage collected their leader and maneuvered their exit through the junkyard we called home.
“Who the fuck was that?” Jackson asked as soon as the coast was clear.
Nonno blinked as if waking up from a trance or being caught in the middle of a deep thought. His eyes drifted to mine as he spoke two words.
“The Surgeon.”
It was a title, and I’d heard it before. I locked eyes with Nonno.
Jackson’s mocking tone was lost in the background noise. Nonno saw the recognition on my face.
“She spoke of him?”
I staggered back, my knees turning liquid with shock and fear. Sprout caught me by a hand to the back.
“Who? And what the fuck is this shit, about a surgeon? Is that supposed to sound scary? Because it doesn’t mean shit.” Jackson smirked.
“They’ll cut your entire family apart,” I muttered. It was something she said.
“Wolf, bro, you okay?” Sprout caught the back of my neck and squeezed. It helped ground me.
Nonno motioned to our meeting room. “Let’s talk.”
He included Jackson in the invitation. Sprout followed us to the door, but I shook my head when he made to join us.
Once again, the door shut out the outside world. But this time, no one sat. Nonno paced. Jackson leaned against the wall to watch.
I stood still, numb with shock and full of racing thoughts. In the middle of them was a crazy idea to get Tits and run. She’d fight me tooth and nail. And I couldn’t tell her why either. If I did, she’d turn right around and barrel down the maw of the beast in a fucked-up pursuit of revenge.
Hell, if I’d known who the guy was a mere hour ago, I would have tried to enact my own revenge. That idea also swirled around in the mess of my head.
“Alright, let’s first fill me in on who the fuck this surgeon is.” Jackson led off the discussion.
“You just met him,” Nonno pointed out.
“Wasn’t formally introduced,” Jackson shot back.
“Be glad you weren’t.” Nonno’s voice went cold.
“He’s old school mob.” One of the guys that moved in the dark edges making things work for the ones in power. Amassing respect rather than money. Never demanding a moment in the spotlight. Nope, the Surgeon was like the Wizard of Oz. Pulling levers and creating illusions so others could pretend the world wasn’t built on seedy little lies told by greedy little men.
Nonno pointed a finger at me. “Not just old school, old country.”
“Funny, he didn’t have an accent.” Jackson crossed his arms.
Nonno stopped pacing and addressed him. “He’s been an enforcer since the early eighties. Had a specialty with knives. That changed when he got involved in prostitution and the cocaine trade in the eighties. This guy, his partner, rolled to the cops. He found him while he was awaiting trial. Cut him up into pieces. Then went after the guy’s family. Broke all the rules, but it sealed his reputation.”
“Now he’s some fuck in a wheelchair.”
“That fuck in a wheelchair has more power than the fucking president. Shit, he’s probably got blackmail on the guy. One snap of his fingers, and we’d be fighting a war for him and never even fucking know it.”
“He used underage girls with the politicians.” I let Jackson in on a bit of history.
