Page 13 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
She screams and I come out of the darkness to slam a hand over her mouth.
“Shh. Run.”
With that, I turn, untie Arnold, and quickly walk around the corner.
I really hope to God she runs.
My brothers are sitting in the study when I get home.
“I cut my evening short for this, Tor. Should’ve fucking seen her tits, they were out to—” He drops his hands from an improbable distance from his body, as Lucie, Callahan’s wife, comes into the room.
“If her tits were that large, Seamus, she’d fall over. Gravity, you know?” She kisses my oldest brother, then with her arm around Cal’s neck, she asks, “Who died?”
“A nasty fucker,” Callahan says. “We got a call.”
“And all our phones are on fire,” Dec says.
I unclip Arnold who runs up to Lucie, jumping up on her. She abandons my brother for the dog. “Should I stay?”
“No,” Cal says, “but you do you.”
“I’ll order dinner,” she says. “Come on, Arnold. Let’s gobug Clawzilla.”
My blood pounds, and my stomach lurches. It’s not the opposite of an adrenaline comedown. It’s worse. It’s foreboding.
Shit. I know I took a chance making that hit, but the gun had a silencer and no one was around to see it happen. Besides, between the shadows and the dark, it would be impossible to tell who actually pulled the trigger.
Arnold and I left the back way. And then we went on a long walk down along the paths on the West Side Highway.
It’s been eleven years since my last hit, but instinct is like muscle memory.
I shot the asshole fast and clean and didn’t touch him.
Besides, I can hack into any database that would store evidence with my computer setup. I look at Cal. “Who was the call from?”
“Anthony Bianco. A nobody, at least on paper,” he says, disgusted. “Mam knew his sister. And they were small-time mafia before the sister got married and took all the contacts with her.”
I nod, a shiver prickling my skin.
Anthony is Harry’s uncle.
“His niece is in trouble,” Cal continues.
It takes everything I am not to leap to my feet, grab my gun, and add to my new kill list. “And?”
“It seems the girl’s been blamed for the hit on Bernardo Ricco.”
“A last-minute, quick-as-lightning hit?” I shake my head and ignore the questions on Cal’s face.
“Seems there’s been one on him a while, but she’s being fingered. The Riccos are old school, and they play by the old-school rules. They’ll announce the culprit and put out their own retaliatory hit.”
I keep my voice even. “The girl?—”
“The girl publicly argued with him, and now Bernardo’s very much dead. Shot, execution-style.”
I get exactly what he’s not saying. They decide to put a hit on this girl, thinking there won’t be any repercussions. And that gives the Ricco mafia the perfect scapegoat. “Did anyone see her shoot him?”
Callahan’s eyes narrow a little and I hold his gaze, afraid that if I look away, he’ll get even more suspicious than he already is.
