by Tia Lewis
I turned.
Quick-Toes and Gunner walked into the Chinese restaurant.
Quick-Toes was named for his small stature and the fact that he had once been the best soccer player in the neighborhood before he took a bullet to his thigh. He always wore a red beanie hat. I wasn’t even sure what color his hair was under there. The beanie was pulled low, just above his eyes. He had the face of a sly rodent, always searching and prowling deep into the night.
Gunner was named for his arms, which were like shotgun barrels and could do a lot of damage. He stood a head and a half above Quick-Toes and wore shorts and a white muscle tank top that displayed his bodybuilder’s physique. Tribal tattoos covered his left arm, swirling from his hand to his shoulder. His head was bald and reflective, catching the light. His eyes were a blue that was so pale that they were almost white. He was a real meathead in every sense of the word.
I held my ground and tried to feign a pleasant surprise, but I knew that was bullshit. I knew that they were here for blood.
“Well, if it isn’t the Harpy boys. Getting some grub too?”
“Did you really think you could play us for fools?” Gunner asked. “Where the fuck is the girl, Liam?”
Gunner and Quick-Toes took a step forward.
Chapter Fourteen
“So, you finally find me.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“We sure did,” Gunner smiled devilishly.
“How did you find me?”
“Word on the street,” Gunner said shortly.
“Word on the street, huh?” I smiled, nodded and rubbed my sharp jawline.
“Come on, Liam. Where’s the girl?” Quick-Toes asked.
“You could find me, but you couldn’t find her? Some ‘word on the street,’” I smirked.
Quick-Toes glared and took another step towards me. I knew an important decision lay ahead of me now. I knew the smart thing to do would be to give Tess up. I’d only met her recently. Why not give her up? Why not end it all now? Why not go back to Boss, Gunner, Quick-Toes, Samson and all the crew at the Drunk Harpy and fall on my knees and beg for forgiveness? And then a thought entered my mind. I saw it like it was happening before my eyes. Tess would be given back to Zharkov, or they would put a bullet in her head. I would end up dead either way.
I saw Zharkov’s gold-ringed greasy fingers clawing at her, his neck fat quivering as he struggled to contain his sick lust. I imagined his grotesque belly hanging over his hard cock. I saw Zharkov’s hands moving over Tess. I saw her mouth open in a cry for help. I saw her trying to crawl away, and Zharkov laughing as he casually smacked her across the back of the head. And then my mind conjured up images that made my stomach turn, and I grew sick. I saw Zharkov’s body on top of her, crushing her as his silver-plated teeth flashed a wicked grin. His cottage-cheese ass moved up and down, up and down, as Tess was lost somewhere underneath his ballooning belly. I smelt the sweat, the scent of her fear and heard Tess’s muffled protests as he violated her again and again. I saw all of this in the span of a few seconds. I clenched my fists and my jaw, my teeth grinding. Then I stopped gripping because I had made my decision. I needed to be calm now; it was time to go to work.
Quick-Toes took another step forward. Gunner stepped up beside him and was taking deep breaths now. I remembered Gunner had always wanted to stand toe to toe with me. He was one of those bastards who spent every second of their life in the gym, looking in the mirror every chance they got, smiling at themselves and tensing their muscles like they’re Arnold Schwarzenegger. He didn’t understand that having big muscles was only half the battle; you needed instinct, animalistic senses, that killer’s edge. Gunner was just a brute. I was a killing machine.
“You no fight in my restaurant!” the Chinese man yelled. “You no fight! Go outside!”
In the glass windows that peered into the street, I saw the Chinese man waving his arms above his head.
“Where is she?” Quick-Toes demanded. “You’re really going to go against the Bianchi family and risk everything for some whore you don’t even know? I never took you for soft, Animal.”
He looked up into my face with his bottom lip jutted out, trembling like he couldn’t understand what was happening. Maybe Quick-Toes had looked up to me once upon a time, but that time was long gone. He couldn’t look up to a man who’d disobeyed Boss or went against the family. Family and loyalty were the core of Bianchi family values and what I did was an act of betrayal. Perhaps lying to Boss was not the best idea but I be damned if I would let anything happen to Tess.
“No point talking with him, man,” Gunner growled through gritted teeth. “He’s all drunk on young pussy. I heard some stories from the Russians about that tight cunt that he’s with.”
“You’re talking to Russians now, Gunner?” I asked, surprised.
Quick-Toes looked at me and then to Gunner. I’m sure he was thinking the same thing as me: you’re mingling with the enemy now? Rat!
“Does Boss know you’ve been talking to the Russians?” Quick-Toes asked Gunner.
Gunner ignored Quick-Toes and folded his arms across his chest with a knowing grin.
“I also heard Zharkov stretched that whore’s little pussy nice and wide. I heard he fucked her real good. Ain’t so tight anymore,” he snickered, clearly trying to provoke me. “But she makes up for it in other ways, so I’ve heard. She sucks dick nonstop. She sucked Zharkov off for two hours straight!” He laughed hysterically. “Why are you protecting that whore…”
Something triggered in me when Gunner talked about Tess like that. Maybe Kevin was wise even in death; I knew that I was starting to care for her. What right did Gunner have to talk about her? He needed to keep her name out of his fucking mouth as far as I was concerned.
“Gunner, you fucking rat!” Quick-Toes said, shocked.
Just then, the Chinese man let out a startled scream as I leaped across the restaurant towards Gunner. I must have been too busy thinking about Tess because Gunner reared back and delivered a blow to the center of my face that I wasn’t prepared for. Stunned, I dropped to my knee, cradling my face as blood seeped between my fingers. I let out a loud groan, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that he broke my nose.
“Off your A game today, Animal?” Gunner laughs with a shake of his head. “This is what happens when you’re drunk off some whore’s…”
Before he could finish, I jumped up and gave Gunner a powerful uppercut to his face. My fists made a crunching noise as they connected with Gunner’s jaw, and a jolt moved up my arm from the force of the blow. I was strong, ready to spring into action, bouncing on the balls of my feet as blood continued to drip from my nose. Gunner fell back into one of the tables, his ass smacking into the edge with a dull thud. He slid to the floor and let out a deep groan.
Quick-Toes threw himself at me, arms spread, but I knew that he had a weakness that would give me an advantage. He had taken a bullet to the leg, and I would target his injured leg if it came down to it. I ducked behind Quick-Toes, snapping his neck back and pinning his arms behind his back.
“I’m not the enemy, Quick-Toes!” I growled.
“Both of you went against the family!” Quick-Toes yelled.
I had no choice but to defend myself. I turned and kicked Quick-Toes in the back of the knee as hard as I could. Quick-Toes cried out and stumbled forward, letting out a childlike whimper. I knew what my face looked like: eyes narrowed, my temple pulsing, my jaw tightly clenched. It was the face of a man doing his job: the focused face of a soldier or an assassin performing his duties.
Gunner was back on his feet when I turned around.
“You go outside! You go outside!” The Chinese man had walked around to the front of the counter and stood with his arms spread across it protectively. “You no fight in here!”
From the kitchen, a small little girl with jet-black pigtails held a chewed up Barbie doll. She could not have been more than eight-years-old, and she watched as we tri
ed to kill each other. Her brown eyes were wide, either with fear or curiosity; I couldn’t tell.
“You’re a fucking idiot!” Gunner snapped. “What the fuck are you risking everything for?”
“You think you’re a tough man because you talk shit about women?” I said calmly, wiping the blood from my face. My hands were open, ready to choke, grab or pummel with fists. “Does that make you a tough guy? You feel like a big man demeaning women? Because I’m not gonna let you say a goddamned thing about Tess, and if you say another fucking word about her I’ll end you right here.”
I heard the muffled sound of canvas tennis shoes moving across the linoleum floor. Quick-Toes stepped forward. His step was quiet, but nothing was too quiet for my trained ears.
“If you take another fucking step toward me, it’ll be the last step you take,” I warned, without turning to face him.
The footsteps stopped.
Gunner’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m the tough man?” he roared with laughter. He lifted his fist and pounded his chest. The little girl in the doorway began to cry, dropped her Barbie and darted back into the kitchen.
“It’s time for you to leave,” I said. I kept feeling him out, watching Quick-Toes at the same time that I eyed Gunner.
“Gunner, I think we should…” Quick-Toes mumbled. I could see him massaging his leg, and I could hear the wracked pain in his voice. I knew that he debated going after Gunner or after me. He was no match for either of us so his best bet would be to stay down and out of our way.
“No!” Gunner loomed big, his voice filling the small restaurant like a foghorn. The Chinese man fled back around the counter and crouched down behind the cash register, looking at Gunner like he was a massive boulder coming to destroy everything in its path, taking his livelihood with it. “Go back to Boss and tell him that we failed?” He shook his head from side to side, his face tight and incredulous. “You can go back if you want, Quick-Toes. But I’m finishing this. And if you rat on me to Boss, I’ll snap your other leg in two.”
Quick-Toes nodded in agreement.
Gunner grinned at me. “I’m gonna finish this because that whore is a worthless bitch and she’s only good for sucking and fucking. And before I take her back, I’m gonna fuck her in that tight little fucking asshole of hers, because Zharkov already ruined her cunt!”
Quick-Toes yelled, the Chinese man covered his ears and Gunner tried to take out his gun, but it was too late. I pulled out my pistol from the inside of my jacket, aimed it at Gunner’s head and pulled the trigger.
As I fired, I didn’t feel anger. I didn’t feel anything at all, apart from gratification: a deep-seeded satisfaction that I’d protected what was mine. I’d done right by Tess, defended her honor and kept her out of danger. I didn’t know why that should please me, but what I did know was that I couldn’t let what Gunner had said slide.
The bullet buried itself deep in Gunner’s left eye. Blood shot from his face, over his clawing hands, and then he fell to his knees. A container of salt fell from the counter as Gunner’s body collided with it on the way down to the ground.
“You shot me!” Gunner screeched, clawing at his eye, his words slurred. People thought a headshot was always an instant death, but I’d seen fellas carry on conversations for ten minutes after being shot. Gunner wouldn’t be so lucky, though. “You shot me, man!”
My expression was blank, and I pressed the barrel of the pistol to Gunner’s right eye and pulled the trigger.
Red chunks of brain and body fluids sprayed everywhere, covering the counter, the transparent glass, and my clothes. He fell back and collapsed, his mouth slack with two red pit holes in his head. I towered over him, aimed my pistol at his heart and fired twice. The smell of shit and blood filled the air, but I’d smelt that before when men died.
I was vaguely aware of the Chinese man crawling toward the kitchen on his hands and knees and the little girl screaming. But mostly I was busy searching for the bullet casings. I found one underneath Gunner’s foot; the other lay on the table. I pocketed them and headed for the door.
Quick-Toes breathed heavily as he stood in front of the door, favoring his good leg, looking like he might fall over at any moment.
“What did you do, Liam!” Quick-Toes looked at Gunner’s body like he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“I ended him, Quick-Toes.”
“But—but that was Gunner!”
“Yes, it was, and he also was a rat. Now move.”
“But you’re also a rat. You lied to Boss.”
Quick-Toes did not move fast enough for me.
“I don’t want to kill you too, Quick-Toes,” I cautioned, wiping my bloody nose.
I held his gaze for ten seconds. The Chinese man and the girl were still screaming, and the air became thicker, closer, and sharper; the metallic scent of blood and the stench of shit swam around them. I could see Quick-Toes did not want to die over this. Quick-Toes and I had a drunken brawl in the past, but that was it. We weren’t enemies. We weren’t exactly friends, either. But Quick-Toes had no real desire to kill me. He was just following orders.
Slowly, he stepped aside.
I turned back to the Chinese man and aimed my pistol at him.
“You’re not thinking about calling the police are you?”
“No, no. I call no police!”
“Smart man,” I said, and looked around the bloody restaurant. “Keep yourself busy and clean this place up.”
The Chinese man nodded. I turned back to Quick-Toes with blood draining from my nose.
“How did you really find me?” Their story about ‘word on the street’ didn’t sit well with me.
“I don’t know,” Quick-Toes trembled. “I was minding my business at the Drunk Harpy and Gunner came up to me and said, ‘let’s go.’ I swear. We took my car and on the way here he tells me you went against the family, lied to Boss and saved some…”
I stared down at Quick-Toes, sniffed through my bleeding nose and wiped my hands on my jeans.
“You know this isn’t the last of it, Liam,” Quick-Toes muttered, limping to the other side of the restaurant.
“I know,” I replied, opening the door, the warm night air rushing into the restaurant. I faced Quick-Toes one last time. “If you follow me or call the police I’ll put a bullet in your head, too.”
Chapter Fifteen
I must have looked like a ghoul when I busted through the motel room door.
Tess sprung up from the bed like a jack-in-the-box, twisting her lips into a howl as she ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Even through the door, I could hear her frantic panting. The door whined in protest as she propped herself against it. The wood was so thin that I could see the impression that her body made on it like it could collapse into the bedroom at any moment.
“Tess, it’s me,” I said, holding my nose and walking across the room to the door. “I’ve had a hell of a night. Open the door.”
“You’re covered in blood!”
“Don’t sound so shocked.” I laughed. “It’s not even my blood. Well, some of it is.”
I heard Kevin say: Most people, brother, wouldn’t be able to laugh at a time like this. But you’re not most people, are you?
“Whose is it?”
“I don’t have time to go into it. I’ll tell you later. Now open the door.”
I heard the bathroom sink running, and a moment later Tess opened the door with a wet towel. I felt dirty when I stood opposite of her like this. She was clean, pale, and unmarked. I was stained burgundy with blood, darkened with death.
“You look like a mad man!” Tess twisted her face as she began to wipe the dripping blood from my nose. I reached up, grabbed her hand and held it for a moment. I gazed into her eyes and smiled.
She looked away, her face flushed.
“Is your nose broken?”
“Nah. It’s just a bad bloody nose,” I said towering over her.
Tess looked back at me holding in her smile and
finished wiping my nose. She started to wipe down my clothes with the towel. She reached back into the bathroom, grabbed another clean towel and handed it to me.
“Here. Hold the towel on your nose and put pressure on it.”
“Thanks,” I said and did what she told me.
She paused. “Is it weird I find you oddly attractive like this?”
I smirked. I didn’t know what to say to that.
“This is so gross,” Tess said as she continued to wipe. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the smell of blood. Reminds me of the time I volunteered at the Red Cross.”
“They have a Red Cross in England?”
“Uh, yeah. You haven’t heard of the British Red Cross? I volunteered briefly in their emergency response division about a year ago.”
“Oh.”
“I did the training and everything and was on-call for when they needed me. This was during summer break at Oxford. But I will say this—During the brief period I volunteered I got to see some pretty gory stuff, but it’s the smell of blood that makes me gag.”
“Yeah, you’ll get used to it. It becomes second nature in my line of work,” I shrugged as I watched her run the blood soaked towel across my boots.
“I bet,” she giggled, focusing on the task at hand. “Okay, I’m going to need some more towels, Liam.”
“We actually need to get going.”
“Not with you looking like this!”
“There’ll be police in this neighborhood at any moment. If the police get to me, Boss and Zharkov will know exactly where to find us.” I had to assume that Boss, the Bianchi crime family and Zharkov are working together now. It’s not unusual for the Russians to play house with their enemies if money was involved. I didn’t know why Boss would collaborate with that fat Russian fuck, but that wasn’t important right now.
“Boss? Wait, your boss?”