A Bad Man: Joey

by Jenika Snow

  Joey stopped when he got to the table, stared at Kelly, and wanted to make sure she was okay. But he kept his mouth shut, didn't show any emotion until he could get a feel for how everything was going down, and then he'd make his move.

  "Please, take a seat," Carlos said and pointed to the spot beside Kelly. She swayed a little, but Carlos grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.

  Joey clenched his teeth and stared at Carlos. The man was young, cocky in appearance, and had this greasy, stereotypical Italian look. Joey wanted to bitch slap the fucker, but he fisted his hands on his lap and waited.

  "Just to clear things up, Kelly here will be dead in two seconds if you try anything," Carlos said and took a sip of his drink. "I have a gun pointed at her gut right now, so you start shit and her pretty little belly will be opened right up." Carlos tapped the gun on the underside of the table, as if emphasizing his point. He grinned, and a gold tooth flashed.

  Joey wasn’t worried about this shit though, because his boys were right outside, watching, waiting, and the moment he hit Alex’s number on speed dial on his phone, his men would come busting in with guns high. He’d get Kelly out of here in one piece if it was the last thing he did.

  "How about you just get the fuck on with this, Carlos?" Joey had never bent for anyone, yet here he was at this sit down that was filled with pussy threats of harming women, and demands that would soon be spouted off. If Kelly and Marra weren't involved, he would have ended this already, but he needed to tread lightly. He had known Kelly for years, had even gone to her wedding when she married the traitor. He hated seeing her all doped up like this, not knowing what the fuck was going on, let alone that he was sitting right beside her.

  “I bet you’re wondering what went down, and how we are where we are at right now.”

  Joey didn’t respond. He sat back in his seat, watched as Carlos called over a semi-nude waitress, and then waited for her to come over. She came to the table a few moments later, three drinks on her tray. After she set a glass in front of each of them she left them alone.

  “Go on, drink.”

  “I’m not thirsty,” Joey said.

  “Drink the fucking vodka, and show me some respect.” Carlos slammed his fist on the table, which had a few of his men coming closer. He held up his hand, stopping them. The sound of the gun being cocked under the table, and the sight of Carlos lifting his brow in challenge, told Joey that this fucker was off his rocker, unstable, and was on the edge with a trigger finger.

  Joey didn’t show any emotion, but grew angrier by the second. No one spoke to him this way, yet this little jamook was trying to set the rules. This little prick was already mezza morta, and once this was already said and done he would be deader than a fucking rotting fish baking in the sun. Joey did pick up the drink, though, not because Carlos ordered him to, but because he needed to make sure Kelly came out of this whole.

  “I’ll cut right to the point. You do what I say, fold and give up your territory to the Gondalo crew, and I’ll let you have Kelly. I’ll leave your new goomah out of all of this even though she might have seen some things she shouldn’t have, and forget about the men of mine you wasted.” Carlos leaned back, took a drink from his vodka, and stared at Joey. When he didn’t speak right away, Carlos reached out and pulled Kelly close to him.

  Joey saw the track marks on Kelly’s inner arms, knew that this woman was nearly broken, if not already bent. “What makes you think I won’t just take all of you out? What makes you have big enough balls to think that I will just give you my empire?” Joey leaned forward. “I’ve been around longer than you, boy, have seen things you have only dreamed about, and this is a family business.” He clenched his hand into a fist on top of the table, and with his other hand he reached for his cell. He had his backup on speed dial, and had his finger lightly touching the key. The cell was a burner, one that couldn’t be traced, and ancient compared to the technology of smart phones nowadays. But for what he used it for it worked to perfection.

  “You’ll do what I want because you and I have something in common.”

  Carlos’s words had Joey stilling in pressing the button that would call his men in to start the rain of fire.

  “You and I are nothing alike.”

  Carlos was silent for a moment, but then grinned. “Your father, the great and powerful fucking Marco Bacelli, had a goomah on the side in the city.”

  This was not news, as most wise guys had women on the side, even when they had wives and children at home. Joey wasn’t married, had never wanted more than some pussy on the side. But he didn’t cheat, and even when he had Angie as a goomah he had never had any other women.

  “My dad having a goomah on the side is not fucking news.”

  Carlo grinned. “It does when your father knocked up my mom.”

  That had everything in Joey stilling. “You’re fucking insane,” he said, knowing that although this was very plausible, to think he shared the same father with this lowlife piece of shit made him pissed and sick all in the same breath. “And what, you think because we share a parental line that I’ll want to join with you, combine my empire with your fucking pathetic excuse for one?” Joey felt his anger rise, and he knew that there was no way in hell he’d ever join forces with this motherfucker.

  “After my mother became pregnant your father bailed, said he didn’t want to handle her with a kid,” Carlos ground out. “On my mother’s deathbed she told me everything, all of the beatings your father gave her, the fact she almost lost me because of that abuse, and how your father left her with a child and nothing to support us with.”

  “And because of something Marco Bacelli did you are holding me and my crew accountable? Seems like a grudge that is best dealt with in other ways.”

  Carlos’s face turned red and he exhaled loudly. “My mother tried going to Marco after I was born, showing him that he had a child he needed to take care of, but he was with his other fucking family.” Carlos gestured for another drink, and the waitress brought it over.

  Joey looked at Kelly and saw she was near to being passed out.

  “She didn’t know that Mario ratted you out, if you were wondering,” Carlos said. Joey looked at him, lit the cigarette, and the exhaled the smoke. He glanced at Kelly. “He might have been a traitor, but he did love her, that’s for fucking sure. He was willing to do anything to make sure she stayed alive and didn’t turn into one of my slutty bitches.” He exhaled again, and then started speaking before Joey could respond. “But here is what I want, and you’ll do what I say or I’ll make sure Kelly, your goomah Marra Santos, and anyone else you hold dear will be hurt because of your lack of submission.”

  Joey stated laughing, genuinely laughing at what he heard. “And what makes you think you could have me or anyone else in the Bacelli family getting hurt? Do you know who the fuck you are dealing with?”

  “I want all of your connections. I want you to work for me. I have lived in the background long enough, watched from the shadows as you and our father had a nice relationship, one where he took you to games, taught you everything he knew, and totally forgot about me.” Carlos raised his voice.

  “I don’t work for anyone. I am the Boss of this family. You are not a Bacelli, will never be one, and you sure as fuck aren’t going to be running things.”

  “It’s my fucking time to take over the family business,” Carlos said with deranged determination.

  Joey had his hand on the phone still, and just as he grinned, about to dial that one number that would bring this house down, there was a voice that came from beside him that had his blood running cold.

  “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, Joey.”

  Angie’s voice was right beside him, and he turned and stared at her, pissed that she had the nerve to follow him, because that was the only way she would be standing here right now. “Leave, Angie. Now is not the fucking time for you to be here.” Shit was about to go down, but he knew once his boys busted in the strippers woul
d be ushered out, or at least he hoped that was the case. Right now he couldn’t worry about collateral damage, because if he did he wouldn’t be able to take down this crew that thought of hurting the people he cared about.

  “An old goomah,” Carlos said and grinned. “I was just talking to Joey about the new piece of ass on the side he has. She’s a pretty dark haired little thing, Portuguese I think.” For whatever reason Carlos was clearly trying to stir more of the shit in the pot.

  “Joey, what is he talking about? You got rid of me for another bitch?”

  He so didn’t need this shit right now, and wasn’t going to deal with Angie’s drama. “Get the fuck out of here. Now.” He emphasized the last word, and when he saw her nostrils flare he knew she was about to blow a gasket. She was feisty in a psycho bitch kind of way, and at first it had been exciting because when they were young she matched him and his temperament, but right now she needed to get the fuck going, because she’d get hurt in the crossfire.

  “Joey, what the hell is going on here? You’ve been avoiding me, blowing me off like I was nothing but a piece of ass to you.” She was raising her voice now, the hysterics picking up.

  And then to his utter shock—to a point at least—Angie pulled out a small handgun. The tears were rolling down her face, and it was clear she was about as stable as this whole situation.

  And the sight of that gun and the way she was trembling told Joey this would be closed down now. He pushed that one button, knew that the phone would ring only once before his brother picked up, and then the doors would be busted down. And then more of his crew that were waiting a little farther down would follow suit.

  Joey gritted his teeth and glanced at Carlos, Kelly, and then back at Angie.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  On that last number he grabbed the edge of the table and pushed it up and toward Carlos. It caught the other man off guard enough that Joey could grab hold of Kelly’s arm and pull her toward him, and push Angie to the ground. The doors had already burst open, sounds of gunfire came through, and women screamed.

  “Joey,” Kelly said softly, but she was right beside him and he heard her clearly. He pushed Angie and Kelly behind an empty booth, and went for Carlos. The other man was just getting the table off of him, and his face was a mask of rage. He reached behind him for the gun presumably at the small of his back, and Joey lunged forward and tackled him. They crashed into the back of the booth, and Joey clocked him in the face.

  When Carlos was stunned for a second he reached or his gun. Carlos slammed his fist into the side of Joey’s face, and he cursed out and felt his anger grow.

  The gunfire was all around them, the sound of screams, glass shattering, and of males shouting filled the room.

  “I’m going to fucking rip your throat out,” Carlos grunted as they wrestled with the gun.

  “Not before I fill your worthless body with bullets,” Joey growled back.

  They crashed to the ground, and Joey got control of the gun. But Carlos had a knife that he had gotten from somewhere, and sliced the blade across Joey’s neck, just centimeters from his jugular. Carlos got the upper hand, threw Joey onto his back. Joey grabbed his neck, felt the warmth of his blood on his fingers, and grunted from the weight of Carlos on him.

  “You motherfucker. I’m going to like taking your life, and basking in your empire.” Carlos held the knife high and grinned.

  The blood was steadily falling from Joey’s neck, and although it wasn’t an immediately life threatening wound, he was growing weak from the blood loss. Before he could shove Carlos off of him and reach for the gun that was just a few feet away, a shot was fired, and blood started spilling from Carlos’s mouth. The knife fell from his hand, and Joey kicked him off. Carlos fell to the ground, started clawing at his back where the bullet most likely was, and groaned out.

  Joey looked down as Carlos held his hand out, and felt the heavy weight of the gun one of his guys gave him. “Niklo, this piece of shit claims Marco had a goomah on the side, and that he is our half-brother.”

  “I have one brother, and his name ain’t Carlos,” Niklo said.

  “I agree.” Joey pointed the gun and shot Carlos in the stomach. The man howled in pain. He pointed the gun at Carlos’s leg, fired off a shot, and then did the same to his arms, and shoulders. “I run my fucking family, and my empire doesn’t belong to a man that threatens to kill women, or to the likes of you, thinking you can place claim on any of what’s mine.”

  Carlos lifted a hand, and Joey shot the asshole right between the eyes. The gunfire had stilled. Silence filled the room, and then Niklo and Alex were stepping up beside him. Niklo held out his hand, and Joey took it and picked himself off the ground. Alex handed him a rag, and he pressed it to his neck. A look around the club showed a lot of Gondalo dead bodies.

  There were about five more of his guys stepping over corpses, some of his men shot in the arm or leg, but all standing. He looked at Niklo, saw his brother holding his shoulder, and cursed. “Fuck, Niklo.”

  His brother shrugged off the concern. “Flesh wound, nothing more.”

  Joey nodded, and then went over to where Kelly and Angie were crouched behind the booth. “Give me that fucking thing.” He snatched the gun out of Angie’s hand and stuck it in the waistband of his pants behind his back. “What the fuck was that about?”

  “You fucking cock-sucking bastard.” Angie flew at him, her red painted nails aimed at him like claws. He caught her hand before her nails clawed his fucking face off. “You’ve been screwing some little tramp behind my back this whole time. I’m going to kick your ass and then beat her into the ground.”

  “Calm the hell down, Angie.” He turned her so her back was to his chest, and he had her arms behind her back. “Calm. Down.” And then the sound of a shot firing had everyone shouting. One of the Gondalo bastards was standing, a bullet hole in his chest, but his arm straight and his gun pointed right at Joey.

  Little Johnny stepped up right behind the fucker, pointed his gun at his head, and blew his brains out. The guy fell to the ground, but a gasping, gurgling sound came from Angie.

  “Oh shit, she’s shot,” Alex said.

  Joey set her on the ground and cursed. “Goddammit, Angie. You should have stayed away.” She may have been a pain in the ass, and a possessive psycho at times, but shit, he had never wanted to see her like this. The guys stayed back as he held her. The blood was pooling underneath her, covering his legs, and smelling metallic. The bullet hole was in her chest, and Joey knew the fucker had been aiming for him, hoping to kill him, too. But clearly the bullet was lodged inside of her, and here she was dying in his arms.

  “Joey,” she gurgled out, and blood sprayed from her mouth. And then right in front of him the life left her. He looked at her, staring at her lifeless eyes watching him back.

  “We need to get out of here,” Little Johnny said and stepped up beside the guys. “The cleaners are here, and I am sure the cops will be showing up soon.”

  “They’ll get anything that might lead them back to us out of here,” Alex said. “I got the woman, but we have to go, Boss.”

  Joey nodded, but before he could take Angie, Alex was lifting her out of his arms. Niklo had Kelly tossed over his shoulder and stared at Joey pointedly.

  “It’s time to go, brother. Marra needs you.” Niklo’s words penetrated his foggy brain and heavy body, and he nodded.

  Marra. His woman.

  “Let’s go.” And he led his men out of there just as Luciano and his crew walked in.

  Chapter Eleven

  Niklo sat at the table nursing a bottle of whiskey and grimacing as the back alley doctor that came to help out in these situations pulled the bullet out of his shoulder. The shit that had gone down at the club had been intense and wild, and although a few of their guys had been shot, no one was dead from their side. The Gondalo crew on the other hand, was, and Angie, that crazy bitch, but God rest her soul, was now lying in
the back office. She had been young and beautiful, and had grown up in the neighborhood. Truth was, Niklo had had a thing for her back in the day when he was young and dumb, but when she had gone after Joey he had shut those emotions down right away. Good thing, too, because she had gotten crazier as the years went on. But even though she had been off the hinge most of the time, and so fucking obsessed and possessive of Joey when she had been his goomah, he did feel sorry that she had been involved and lost her life.

  The sound of the bullet landing in the metal tray was music to Niklo’s ears. “About fucking time,” he said on a slur, the whiskey hitting the spot but not numbing the pain enough. He was a tough man, prided himself on that, but fuck, a bullet lodged in anyone’s body was going to bring the biggest, toughest man down.

  “Don’t be a pussy.”

  Dr. Lucoma was an old as fuck physician that had been working in the neighborhood, and with the Bacellis, for a long-ass time. Niklo looked over his shoulder at him, saw the doctor take a long swig from his silver flask that Niklo knew was filled with scotch, and then grabbed his Cuban cigar. The puff of smoke that came from the old fuck was thick and heavy.

  “You are one grumpy asshole, you know that?” Niklo said, and took a drink from his own bottle.

  “I might be a grumpy asshole, but I’m damn good at what I do, and have been taking care of your stubborn, accident-prone ass for the last thirty-two years since I pulled you out of your mother.”