the whole fucking country!
You cost me millions and I’ll make you pay, you arrogant sonofabitch!’
I appear to have touched a nerve with
the big boss. And like a shark smelling blood in the water, I went in for the
kill.
‘Well, that’s all terribly impressive,’
I began. ‘Now let me explain something to you . I’m the man you think you are. You keep going on about me having nowhere to hide from you. What
makes you think I’d be hiding? I promise you, if I ever want to settle a score
with you, I’ll knock on your front door, ask for the dick head of the
household and look you right in the eye before I destroy everything you’ve
created. I will wipe you off the face of this earth, and I’ll smile as I do it.
You can pay whoever you want to come after me, but as a favor, I’ll give you
some advice to try and save you the money: ask around. You’ll soon find that
most people out there know that I’m not one with whom to fuck. Now, from here
on out, I’ll stay out of your way, you stay out of mine. Sound good to you?’
They both stared at me; Manhattan looked
afraid, whereas Pellaggio just looked angry. But neither one of them replied.
I said, ‘Okay then. I’m glad we’re all
in agreement.
Content that was the end of the discussion,
I stood and backed away, keeping my gun aimed at them until I reached the door.
Manhattan had perched on the end of this desk, his hands clasped on his lap.
Pellaggio was staring a hole through me. He hadn’t said anything, but I could
almost smell his anger. He obviously wasn’t used to not scaring people or
getting his own way.
I left the office and went through the
red curtain, back out into the club. Now everything had settled, the place looked
like a warzone. I re-holstered my gun and stared at them one final time through
the hole I’d made in the mirror. Then I turned and walked out of the club.
I turned left out of the doors and down
the street. The street was filled with people who were in the club, along with
many others who had stopped to stare at the scene. In the distance, I could
hear sirens.
I turned into an alleyway and broke into
a jog, anxious to put some distance between myself and the club.
God, I needed a drink.
TWENTY-ONE
I woke up on my
hotel room floor. I don’t remember getting here, and I had no idea I’d been out
for so long until I’d checked my phone and saw it was turned two p.m.
I stood up and sat on the edge of the
bed. I felt like I had the worst hangover in history. And I’ve had some real
stinkers in my time, let me tell you.
I tried to stretch, forgetting for a
moment about my broken ribs. The shooting pain that ripped through my torso
soon reminded me.
I massaged my temples with my right
hand, then groggily looked around the room. It took me a moment to realize I
could hear the shower running in the bathroom, and the door was pushed to.
Had I left it on last night when I got
back here? I really didn’t remember. My concussion was pretty bad. I suppose
getting thrown through a window will do that to you.
I staggered over to the bathroom door.
As I reached for the handle, I heard the shower turn off. Then the door opened
and Clara Fox stood there, wearing a towel.
I didn’t understand. And I couldn’t
think of anything intelligent to say at that moment. All I could come up with was:
‘Huh?’
It ain’t Shakespeare, I’ll admit.
‘Morning sunshine,’ said Clara. ‘You
look like shit.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘You look like you’re
wearing a towel.’
‘I am.’
‘Oh, okay. Any particular reason?’
‘I just got out of the shower,’ she said
as she padded, barefoot and dripping, across the room toward the mirror on the
wall.
She picked up a hairbrush, which I’m
guessing she brought with her, and began combing through her long, wet, dyed
blonde hair.
I massaged my temples again, in the hope
it would stimulate my brain enough to form actual sentences and questions.
‘Yeah, what I mean is,
You cost me millions and I’ll make you pay, you arrogant sonofabitch!’
I appear to have touched a nerve with
the big boss. And like a shark smelling blood in the water, I went in for the
kill.
‘Well, that’s all terribly impressive,’
I began. ‘Now let me explain something to you . I’m the man you think you are. You keep going on about me having nowhere to hide from you. What
makes you think I’d be hiding? I promise you, if I ever want to settle a score
with you, I’ll knock on your front door, ask for the dick head of the
household and look you right in the eye before I destroy everything you’ve
created. I will wipe you off the face of this earth, and I’ll smile as I do it.
You can pay whoever you want to come after me, but as a favor, I’ll give you
some advice to try and save you the money: ask around. You’ll soon find that
most people out there know that I’m not one with whom to fuck. Now, from here
on out, I’ll stay out of your way, you stay out of mine. Sound good to you?’
They both stared at me; Manhattan looked
afraid, whereas Pellaggio just looked angry. But neither one of them replied.
I said, ‘Okay then. I’m glad we’re all
in agreement.
Content that was the end of the discussion,
I stood and backed away, keeping my gun aimed at them until I reached the door.
Manhattan had perched on the end of this desk, his hands clasped on his lap.
Pellaggio was staring a hole through me. He hadn’t said anything, but I could
almost smell his anger. He obviously wasn’t used to not scaring people or
getting his own way.
I left the office and went through the
red curtain, back out into the club. Now everything had settled, the place looked
like a warzone. I re-holstered my gun and stared at them one final time through
the hole I’d made in the mirror. Then I turned and walked out of the club.
I turned left out of the doors and down
the street. The street was filled with people who were in the club, along with
many others who had stopped to stare at the scene. In the distance, I could
hear sirens.
I turned into an alleyway and broke into
a jog, anxious to put some distance between myself and the club.
God, I needed a drink.
TWENTY-ONE
I woke up on my
hotel room floor. I don’t remember getting here, and I had no idea I’d been out
for so long until I’d checked my phone and saw it was turned two p.m.
I stood up and sat on the edge of the
bed. I felt like I had the worst hangover in history. And I’ve had some real
stinkers in my time, let me tell you.
I tried to stretch, forgetting for a
moment about my broken ribs. The shooting pain that ripped through my torso
soon reminded me.
I massaged my temples with my right
hand, then groggily looked around the room. It took me a moment to realize I
could hear the shower running in the bathroom, and the door was pushed to.
Had I left it on last night when I got
back here? I really didn’t remember. My concussion was pretty bad. I suppose
getting thrown through a window will do that to you.
I staggered over to the bathroom door.
As I reached for the handle, I heard the shower turn off. Then the door opened
and Clara Fox stood there, wearing a towel.
I didn’t understand. And I couldn’t
think of anything intelligent to say at that moment. All I could come up with was:
‘Huh?’
It ain’t Shakespeare, I’ll admit.
‘Morning sunshine,’ said Clara. ‘You
look like shit.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘You look like you’re
wearing a towel.’
‘I am.’
‘Oh, okay. Any particular reason?’
‘I just got out of the shower,’ she said
as she padded, barefoot and dripping, across the room toward the mirror on the
wall.
She picked up a hairbrush, which I’m
guessing she brought with her, and began combing through her long, wet, dyed
blonde hair.
I massaged my temples again, in the hope
it would stimulate my brain enough to form actual sentences and questions.
‘Yeah, what I mean is,
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