detail is called in and the elevators are put on service. That means no one can get up there without using the stairs, which are guarded.”
Darwin stood on the cement sidewalk and listened to Paul tell him that they’d come all this way for nothing. Paul had acted scared and compliant. Now he looked smug, and he talked with attitude. What had happened? How had his attitude shifted?
“What do you propose I do?”
Paul laughed. “You didn’t think I was going up with you, did you?”
“Actually, you are.”
“Yeah, right. Fuccini would kill me if I went up there and let you walk right in.”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t.”
Darwin’s stomach dropped further as the sun did. It would be dark soon. He couldn’t be out in the dark. He knew his fear was irrational, but it wasn’t a choice. It was just that way.
Paul wasn’t making sense either. Back at Termini Station, he’d been intimidated. Now he talked like he had it all going on.
“So kill me,” Paul said. He opened his jacket at the chest area and said, “Shoot me right here. Come on.”
The guy’s crazy. Darwin couldn’t shoot him. He didn’t even know how to use the gun.
Before Darwin could react, Paul was on him. It was a mad rush, he was hit with a blind sucker punch. Then another.
Darwin was falling, trying to keep his balance, his arms pinwheeling. He instinctively knew that if he fell, he wouldn’t be getting back up.
Paul threw all his weight on him in that second.
Darwin landed on his back, the wind rushing from his lungs, Paul tossing punch after punch, in the stomach, the side and a couple in the arms.
Then it was over as fast as it started. Paul got up, breathing fast and hard.
“You fucking idiot. You thought you had the jump on me ?” he screamed.
Darwin wiped blood from the edge of his mouth. He reached for the gun in his jacket, but it was gone.
“That’s right. Got my gun back.” He turned the gun sideways. “See this here. That’s called a safety. You can’t fire the gun without the safety turned off.” He looked down at Darwin, who lay there collecting his breath, as the lights slowly dimmed on Rome. “The whole time you thought you had me. You couldn’t even fire a gun. Actually, have you ever fired a weapon?”
Paul searched Darwin’s face for an answer. Then he laughed and slapped a knee. “You haven’t, have you? Holy shit, are you ever a fucking amateur. And the boss has everyone afraid of you. Damn, is he going to be happy when I deliver you.”
Paul leaned down and grabbed Darwin’s jacket pocket where he’d stashed the pencil. He ripped it out and looked at it dumbfounded.
“A pencil. A fucking pencil . Lead poisoning? Are you fucking kidding me? This is royal. This, I gotta tell the boys.” He looked down at Darwin. “Get up. Get on your feet.”
Darwin had no idea what to do. The sun continued its descent. A mafia hit man stood in front of him. A hit man with a gun and not afraid to use it.
And the sun is going down , Darwin reminded himself.
His reality shifted for real. Maybe he was going crazy after all. If they had Rosina and they were going to kill him, then what was the point of living? What was it all for?
“I said, get up.” Paul stepped closer and kicked Darwin in the stomach.
The blow knocked the wind out of him. He curled around and got on his hands and knees. He thought about his stepmother. He thought about all the times he sat in that dark room and got poked. He thought about blood, and Big John’s face came to him, neck split open, blood on his face, his shoulder, his arm.
Darwin got up slowly. Paul was talking about how he could never have taken Darwin prisoner and got him to the Fuccini building so easily. It was much better to go as a willing captor. He thanked Darwin for the pleasure of delivering himself.
Then a streetlight turned on overhead. The
Darwin stood on the cement sidewalk and listened to Paul tell him that they’d come all this way for nothing. Paul had acted scared and compliant. Now he looked smug, and he talked with attitude. What had happened? How had his attitude shifted?
“What do you propose I do?”
Paul laughed. “You didn’t think I was going up with you, did you?”
“Actually, you are.”
“Yeah, right. Fuccini would kill me if I went up there and let you walk right in.”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t.”
Darwin’s stomach dropped further as the sun did. It would be dark soon. He couldn’t be out in the dark. He knew his fear was irrational, but it wasn’t a choice. It was just that way.
Paul wasn’t making sense either. Back at Termini Station, he’d been intimidated. Now he talked like he had it all going on.
“So kill me,” Paul said. He opened his jacket at the chest area and said, “Shoot me right here. Come on.”
The guy’s crazy. Darwin couldn’t shoot him. He didn’t even know how to use the gun.
Before Darwin could react, Paul was on him. It was a mad rush, he was hit with a blind sucker punch. Then another.
Darwin was falling, trying to keep his balance, his arms pinwheeling. He instinctively knew that if he fell, he wouldn’t be getting back up.
Paul threw all his weight on him in that second.
Darwin landed on his back, the wind rushing from his lungs, Paul tossing punch after punch, in the stomach, the side and a couple in the arms.
Then it was over as fast as it started. Paul got up, breathing fast and hard.
“You fucking idiot. You thought you had the jump on me ?” he screamed.
Darwin wiped blood from the edge of his mouth. He reached for the gun in his jacket, but it was gone.
“That’s right. Got my gun back.” He turned the gun sideways. “See this here. That’s called a safety. You can’t fire the gun without the safety turned off.” He looked down at Darwin, who lay there collecting his breath, as the lights slowly dimmed on Rome. “The whole time you thought you had me. You couldn’t even fire a gun. Actually, have you ever fired a weapon?”
Paul searched Darwin’s face for an answer. Then he laughed and slapped a knee. “You haven’t, have you? Holy shit, are you ever a fucking amateur. And the boss has everyone afraid of you. Damn, is he going to be happy when I deliver you.”
Paul leaned down and grabbed Darwin’s jacket pocket where he’d stashed the pencil. He ripped it out and looked at it dumbfounded.
“A pencil. A fucking pencil . Lead poisoning? Are you fucking kidding me? This is royal. This, I gotta tell the boys.” He looked down at Darwin. “Get up. Get on your feet.”
Darwin had no idea what to do. The sun continued its descent. A mafia hit man stood in front of him. A hit man with a gun and not afraid to use it.
And the sun is going down , Darwin reminded himself.
His reality shifted for real. Maybe he was going crazy after all. If they had Rosina and they were going to kill him, then what was the point of living? What was it all for?
“I said, get up.” Paul stepped closer and kicked Darwin in the stomach.
The blow knocked the wind out of him. He curled around and got on his hands and knees. He thought about his stepmother. He thought about all the times he sat in that dark room and got poked. He thought about blood, and Big John’s face came to him, neck split open, blood on his face, his shoulder, his arm.
Darwin got up slowly. Paul was talking about how he could never have taken Darwin prisoner and got him to the Fuccini building so easily. It was much better to go as a willing captor. He thanked Darwin for the pleasure of delivering himself.
Then a streetlight turned on overhead. The
Similar Books
