Page 71 of Memento Mori
“You know, Agent,” I said. “I hate when people lie to me, especially in the house of the Lord. On sacred ground. That’s a sure way to get a one-way ticket to Hell faster.”
He shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling with indifference. “Either fuck me or kill me but get it over with. I’m not telling you shit.”
With a toss of my head, laughter bubbled up from deep within me before I refocused my gaze on him. “You really think you’re in charge, huh? I’m definitely not going to fuck you. My husband does a very wonderful job of that. But I will kill you after I get my answers.”
“You don’t have it in you to kill me, bitch,” he said with a smirk. “Why don’t you go back in the house and let the men handle the hard work sweetie.”
“Did you hear that Luca?” I asked, but never taking my eyes off Grasso. “Agent Grasso doesn’t think I have it in me to kill him.”
“I heard Donna,” Luca said, chuckling. “I think you need to show him.”
“I think that’s exactly what I should do. Could you please hand me that nail gun?” I asked, pointing towards a work bench near one of the stained-glass windows.
“Yes, Donna.”
There were men working on replacing the framing around the windows, leaving some equipment scattered around the room. And right now, I was grateful because it was going to get me the information I needed.
As I reached out, Luca placed the nail gun in my palm, its rubber grip cool against my skin. It was heavy but it would do the job. As I approached Agent Grasso, the smug expression on his face vanished. A look of fear swept across his eyes. I already asked him where she was, so I wasn’t going to ask him again.
As I held the nail gun in my hand, I could feel the weight of it against my palm, and I didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. The nail pierced through the back of his hand, causing him to howl in pain as it lodged into the wooden armrest of the chair. The chapel echoed with his piercing screams and curses as he fought against his restraints. Luckily, there was no one around to hear the sound. And Papa had the place sound proofed, so not even a pin dropping could be heard from outside.
“Now, where is the Ghost?” I asked for a second time.
“I... I don’t know,” he stammered. “Fuckkk!”
“Not the answer, I’m looking for Agent,” I said, placing the nail gun against his other hand and squeezed the trigger.
The church echoed once again with his curses and cries. From the corner of my eye, I observed my men shifting on their feet. Yes, this was uncomfortable, but I always did what needed to be done to protect my family. To protect myself. He knew where she was, and he was going to tell me.
“Let me tell you how I know you’re lying to me. Maybe that will show you that you will not leave this place without telling me what you know. See my husband and other people that I personally know use the Ghost. She will be looking for the rest of her payment after the job is done. How are you supposed to pay her if you’ve had no contact with her?” I positioned the nail gun against his shoulder. “Your grandfather is dead, thanks to my husband which makes you her contact now.”
“If you let me go, I’ll tell you.”
I sighed. “Why is it always, I’ll tell you if you let me go?” I couldn’t help but mock him with a sarcastic tone.
“If you kill me, you’ll never find her.”
I nonchalantly shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But either way you die. Do you want your death to be painful or easy? The choice is yours,” I said, pulling the trigger.
Tears streaked down his face as he screamed again.
“How much do you want to suffer for the bitch, Grasso? Because I can do this all fucking day. I can drag this out until you’re fucking hanging on by a thread. Or I can make it end quick and easy.”
I glanced at my watch. It was almost four o’clock. It wouldn’t be too long, and Tony would be awake. I wanted to finish this before then.
“Time’s ticking, Grasso. I’ve got shit to do, and that doesn’t involve standing here listening to you whine like a little bitch. Where is she?”
“She’s probably in California,” he mumbled.
“And why do you think that?”
He shrugged. “The last time I spoke with her about finishing the job, I overheard the boarding call.”
“And when was the last time you spoke with her?”
“After she hit the hospital,” he said.
“Address?”
