by Kara Hart
“Okay, I get it. You don’t need me after you’ve cum. Whatever,” I laugh. “Anyway, I’ll do you a favor and visit you in your prison cell tomorrow. You know, if you want me to.”
He turns around in his “kitchen” and makes an angry face. “Sure. That sounds okay,” he says. “But I don’t need you or anything. You just help me pass the time.”
“Right,” I wink at him. “I’m just helping you pass the time. I do what I can.”
I get dressed and head toward the front door, feeling kind of annoyed, even though I know he’s too much of a man to tell me to my face that he has some kind of strange feelings for me. However, before I can leave, he wraps his arms around me and kisses my cheek. “Why don’t you stay the night?”
I laugh and push his arms off of me. “Why? So I can help you pass the time?”
“C’mon,” he says, ignoring the question. “It’ll be fun. It’ll be like camping or something.”
“Yeah, I remember when I used to go camping up in the woods, rats used to run over us all of the time,” I say. “No thanks, Hunter. I can’t. My dad will get paranoid and Ricky will know something is up.”
“I guess you’re right,” he sighs. “Well, alright. I’ll see you when I see you.”
“Yes you will,” I say. “Think of it this way. My absence will give you something to look forward to.”
“You’re right,” he says. I wrap my arms around his chest and he pulls me in, kissing me one last time. “And next time I’ll tell you what happened. Maybe.”
“Definitely,” I say. I walk into the street and don’t look back. I hear the door slide closed. Oh, what a day.
Hunter
There’s nothing left for me to do, but continue my search for the ones that fucked me. The days pass and my gun gets hotter in my palm. Men fall and I leave their bodies for the police to discover.
There’s the Sacco family in Boston and the Razetti family in New Jersey. Both end up killed and thrown in a gutter. This is my revenge and it’s what I deserve. At least, that’s what I used to feel. Now I’ve got this sinking feeling in my stomach and I don’t know what it is.
Maybe it’s that guilt feeling people always talk about. You know, the thing they always mention in movies or TV shows. Well, this isn’t a TV show. This real life, and what they did to me is worth the harsh sentence. So why is it that I feel so fucking shitty?
Bianca. That beautiful bitch Bianca. She’s making me feel all these feelings. And I gotta be honest. It’s throwing off my game. I used to be Hunter “the scalper” Scapoli. You want to know why? It’s because I cut from the center up. When men came face to face with me, they fell to their knees and started praying because they knew their time was up. Now, they might as well call me “lover boy.” It’s a shame to find a woman you like.
I made a big trip up north because Bianca told me to move around more. I don’t want Ricky catching up to me, so I gutted the whole warehouse. Even she won’t be able to find me. So be it. I’ll find her when I need to. She’s right, this is my life we’re talking about.
Against the swirling river below, I look up into the night sky and think about what I need to do. Michael "baby-faced" Tucciano is next on my list and I can’t wait to gut him. I push away all feelings of guilt and take a few deep breaths to center myself. This is business. This is what I have to do.
I’m not just seeking my revenge. I’m going after all of the families. I’m killing off the underground. The cops are going to love a guy like me.
Amongst the shadows, I see a man walking with his gumad. She’s a tall broad, blonde hair and blue eyes. And he’s whispering “I can give you the world,” to her with lecherous promise.
That’s when I come in. I hold my pistol right above her head, all for effect. “Honey, why don’t you take a ride,” I say. My voice is rough from all the Jameson and cigarettes I’ve been chugging down lately. I guess it’s added to my gruff look because when she sees me, she nearly faints.
“Son of a bitch,” Michael mutters. Of course, that’s when I aim the gun at his leg and fire. A bullet goes straight into his knee. He falls, clutching at his gaping wound and screams. “Do you know who I am? I’ll fucking kill you!”
“Wrong thing to say,” I laugh. His woman has already run off, most likely to call the police. I can’t take any chances and I have to be quick, despite wanting to draw this one out. This is Michael Tucciano, after all. The United States Government has been trying to put this guy behind bars for almost a decade now. Of course, what they don’t understand is that it just takes one bullet. Just a gun and a bullet. Oh, and me, of course.
I grab his collar and drag him into a nearby alley. I pat him down and find two pistols, a knife, some cigarettes and a lighter. His wallet has about 300 bucks. It’s nothing special, but I take it anyway because why the hell not? Plus, I’m thinking Bianca deserves something nice.
This is where things start to become a problem for me. This feeling of revenge draws me out of the woodwork. It makes me feel special again, like a gangster. Suddenly, I’m not a homeless man anymore. “I’m Hunter Scapoli,” I say, through gritted teeth.
He looks up at me and I slam my pistol against his cheek. “No,” he breathes heavily and spits out shards of teeth. “That’s impossible. I killed you!”
“You didn’t kill shit,” I say, grabbing his hair and pulling him up. He winces with pain. “You left me for dead. What a stupid fucking move.”
I aim my gun and pull the trigger. It clicks, but no bullet comes out. He shudders with relief. I toss the gun away and grab one of the two that I took form him. “Don’t go thinking it’s your lucky day. I’m sending you to hell.”
“Wait, Goddammit!” he screams like a little fucking baby. “You were an informant. Did you really think we’d let you walk?”
I grab his ear and twist. “An informant? Who the fuck told you that joke? I was the underground’s best chance at taking us back to the golden days, before Rico. I was going to make us all rich, you idiot.”
He screams and falls to the floor, exhausted and ready for what’s coming. “Ricky! It was Ricky Luciotti.” I aim the gun at his face and put the barrel in his mouth. He tries to shield his eyes and for some reason this makes me feel a sense of pity. I have to get this done before I turn into more of a pussy.
“Ricky?” I question him. “Since when do you take orders from the Luciotti family? Answer me!” My finger is wrapped around that trigger and I’m about to fire until there’s no tomorrow.
“We were all tipped off. You were seeing that girl. You didn’t know. She was FBI,” he sighs and gulps down when I take the pistol out of his mouth. “She was setting you up. The bitch was going to take down the Five Families.
“Catherine? Bullshit,” I say, but now the thought has taken over my brain. I can’t stop thinking about her. Catherine. The one I thought I loved. She disappeared fast, didn’t she? “She died. Cancer. Everyone told me!”
“They lied to you. That’s what the Feds do,” he says. I shove the gun back into his face and he closes his eyes shut. “Do what you have to do, but know that you were set up like a fucking punk. I guess we all were in the end.”
“I don’t feel an ounce of guilt, you lying son of a bitch. The only thing I feel is complete and utter hatred for your kind,” I say, clenching my jaw.
“You were just like me once,” he laughs, knowing his time is almost up. “You would have done the same exact thing if you were in my position, so don’t go acting all high and mighty. Your time will come soon enough. Go ahead. I’m ready, you motherfucker.”
In the near distance is the sound of sirens and I realize what I have to do. “Goodbye,” I say. I pull the trigger and a small plume of smoke and blood shoots up into the air. My mind seems to slow everything down. I feel dizzy. Shit, I feel faint.
I stumble to the cobblestone steps and I hold the sides of my head. “Fuck. What’s happening?” I say out loud, but of course no one is around me. The sirens are muffle
d and slowed down, but they’ re getting nearer. I roll over and puke. Then, I pick myself up and stumble away, clutching at my gut.
I used to be hard. I used to be Made. Now I’m some soft asshole, and all I can think about is getting back to Detroit to see Bianca. She’s the only good thing in my life anymore. Everything else has turned to shit. On the other side, it’s all blood, guns, and death.
I just want to be normal. I just want to be like the rest of society. I want a shitty 9-5 job. I want two happy kids, a boy and a girl. I want them to go to a good school and to grow up happy. I want to wake up in the morning, to kiss my wife’s cheek, and sip on my coffee while I cut into my perfectly scrambled eggs and toast.
But the reality is, I won’t ever get that life. No, instead, I’m an outlaw. I’m society’s reject. I’m the bit of pond scum people scowl at and scrape off the bottom of their boots. I don’t deserve love. I don’t deserve anything good.
I’m Hunter Scapoli, the killer. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Bianca
“Have you seen your brother?” My dad shakes me awake. His cold hands make me nearly jump out of my skin. I was having a crazy nightmare where I was walking down a cobblestone road. Oddly enough, I was with Hunter. A man jumped out with a gun and I had the strangest feeling that his life was coming to an end. That’s when my dad woke me up.
“No,” I croak. “Is he still gone?”
My dad looks worried. We haven’t seen him in nearly three days. By his expression, we’re thinking the same thing. “Yeah. He won’t return any of my calls either. His phone is either dead or off,” he says. “I’m sorry for waking you. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t seen him before I talk to Ricky.”
“Do you think he’s dealing again?” I ask him, rubbing my eyes awake. I push my body up against my pillow and yawn loudly. Life out here is nothing like San Francisco, that’s for sure.
“I don’t know. It’s possible,” he says. “Did you hear about Michael Tucciano?” Dad asks.
“No. I didn’t hear anything,” I say. “Did they finally indict him or something? Seems like that’s the ongoing trend now for the Big Five.” The Big Five is what all the newspapers are calling the Five Families. It’s always been funny to me that the whole media and public know who is corrupt and it’s still a game of cat and mouse. I guess it has to be like that.
He shakes his head. “No. It’s much worse. Everyone’s talking about it. He was gunned down in New York.”
“No fucking way,” I say. “Seriously?”
“Yes fucking way,” my dad smiles, though I can tell he’s still worried about Giovanni being gone. “He was on a date with some woman who wasn’t his wife. She claims the guy put a gun to his head. Of course, Michael’s wife is denying all of that. She says it was an inside hit, most likely done by someone in Jersey City.”
“Well it’s possible,” I laugh. “But it’s likely he was with that girl too. All these guys are scumbags. Do the police have any leads?”
“No, of course not,” he shakes his head. “But they’re scrambling to find someone to pin it on. They’re on full alert now that more people are dying. They’re afraid another war is going to start.”
I groan. “Yeah, well. When they sensationalize this type of stuff, a war becomes more and more likely. It’s better they keep it out of the media.”
“I agree,” he says. “I just hope your brother isn’t involved in any of this. I hope he’s safe.”
“He is, dad,” I lie. I have no idea if he actually is or not. I’m hoping the same damn thing. But hope is all I can give my father right now. I wish there was more I could pass on. “He’s just making money. You know, being a gangster. He watches too much television.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighs. “Anyway, I just thought you should know.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“I love you, sweetie,” he kisses my cheek and I smile back.
“Love you too, dad.” He closes the door gently and I jump out of bed.
I’ve got a sinking feeling in my stomach that tells me something is wrong. It’s not that I think my brother is dead or involved in some heavy crime. Most likely, he’s out slinging drugs and he hasn’t earned enough to head home. He’s done this before. No, the feeling I’ve got is telling me that Hunter is either dead or involved in this Tucciano business.
The past three days I’ve gone to his hideout. It’s completely empty. In fact, there’s no trace that anyone has been living there for decades. If he’s left the city, he’s a bastard. I should have known a guy like him would be a complete and total let down.
However, if he’s the one who took down Michael Tucciano, I’m not sure how to react. On the one hand, Tucciano is the one who killed my grandfather. Part of me should be thrilled he’s gone. On the other hand, do I really want to be fucking an active killer?
Well, he is great at eating pussy. I have to laugh at how absurd my thoughts are. I must be going insane. Since when did I justify sex with a killer? I hate using that word. It makes him sound like Ted Bundy or something. Was he bad news? Probably. Did that turn me on? Definitely. Oh, jesus. I’m in a whole lot of trouble, aren’t I?
I decide that it’s about time I make the most of my trip and take a run in the park. Back in the day, I ran every single morning before class. It’s such a beautiful and unique place. It practically begs you take advantage of it. If I wasn’t from Michigan, I’d probably say the same. On one side, it’s falling apart from a lack of infrastructure. However, in between the cracks of the dirty city, there’s a natural beauty. Of course, most of that is in the wealthier areas.
When I’m running, I think about my childhood. When I was young, the lifestyle interested me quite a bit. I was always proud of the Luciotti name. To me, it stood for greatness. I used to brag at school about how my family owned half of Detroit. Of course, I didn’t really know what that meant.
I thought people were just born into that type of greatness. I didn’t realize it meant that lives were stolen from innocent people. I didn’t know that harmless shopkeepers had to pay half their wages to keep their stores open in their neighborhoods. I thought that our family gave others opportunities that they couldn’t otherwise get.
That’s what we were told, anyway. And we believed the lie. We believed that if the five families didn’t exist, the government would take over and let everyone down. We wouldn’t have any protection and corporations could just come in and ruin our neighborhoods. It was partly true. Only, it became harder and harder to decipher what was the lesser evil. Which do you choose: large corporations or large men with an assembly of guns? As I grew older, I knew that the answer was in getting out.
I push through the trees and the green grass, past the edge of the water, and I end up back in the rusty city. I fall against a bench and catch my breath. I’ve pushed myself way too hard. I shouldn’t be running. My doctor’s told me a thousand times, don’t overexert yourself if you’re going to run. But I’m a person who loves to hurt herself. I can’t just go at things half-assed.
I take three deep breaths in, feeling the oxygen relax my lungs. I smile and close my eyes, feeling the peaceful summer breeze wash over my face. It’s a nice day and I find myself finally enjoying the city for once.
“You’re quite the runner,” I hear a voice say. “I love the way your tits bounce up and down. I could watch you for hours, darling.”
I turn to see Ricky, leaning against a tree nearby. He’s smiling and smoking a cigarette. Fuck. Why is he here? I look around for a person to run to in case he gets weird again, but there’s no one there to help me. He walks forward and puts his cigarette out on the bench handle next to me. “Ricky, what the hell are you doing here? Are you fucking following me? Really?”
“What? Can’t a guy go on a nice walk in the city?” he laughs and sits down next to me, putting his small hand on my right thigh. “Who’re you looking for, doll?”
“I went on a run by myself. To get away from peop
le like you. Jesus, can’t you take a hint?” I scowl at him and try pushing my thigh away. He grips down hard, so hard that it actually hurts me.
“Ricky, stop,” I whisper. “You’re hurting me.”
“What’s the matter baby girl?” he sneers, teeth yellow and cracked. “Why won’t you be my friend?” It’s hard to say what he will do to me if I try to escape. I’m frozen and unable to move. My whole body tenses.
I’m nearly having a breakdown because he won’t leave me alone. My anxiety has jumped to new heights. When he laughs loudly at my reaction, I quickly realize just how careful I need to be from now on. Most likely, this is his way of letting me know that he’ll follow me until he finds Hunter. From now on, I would walk with stealth.
He grunts when I don’t respond, saying, “Oh, I found your brother, Giovanni.” My eyes light up and he lets go of my thigh. I stand up, but I don’t leave. I need to know what he wants with my brother. “Don’t worry. He’s hard at work. He’s very proud of the family name, as you may very well know.”
“I’m aware,” I say. “He needs to go home, Ricky. We’ve been worried sick about him.”
“Like I said. Don’t worry. He’ll be home by tonight. We just needed him for a job,” he winks at me.
“Tucciano?” I ask him, feeling my stomach sink. “Please tell me he didn’t…”
But the way he looks at me with confusion tells me Giovanni had nothing to do with that. “Not us,” he says, pulling out another cigarette. “Anyway, enough about Giovanni. How’ve you been? What have you been up to?”
“Nothing, Ricky. You know that,” I sigh. “I figure you’ve been following me.”
“Who? Me? No, I don’t do that sort of thing,” he smiles, lighting his cigarette. He takes a drag. “I have other people do that sort of thing for me, mostly. You know, you really should go out more. If you want, I’d love to take you to a movie. Maybe we can have a nice dinner. You don’t have much time left in the city. Might as well make it a good last week, right?”