And you think I’m
going to let you see my wife’s bare breasts and her naked body and there be no
retribution? Who the fuck do you think
you’re dealing with? Who the fuck do you
think I am?”
And
Sal began the beat down. He beat Santino
in his face so many times that Santino, who tried to fight back, didn’t stand a
chance. Jody knew he was doomed too; he
knew he was going to be next; but he also knew he couldn’t run. If he ran, boss would hunt him down like a
mangy dog in the street and do worse to him than he was doing to Santino. He had to take it here and now and could only
hope to get out of it alive.
Because
Sal Gabrini wasn’t playing. Blood was
spewing from Santino, and populating the big picture window with every lick as
if a painter was splattering it onto a canvas. By the time Sal was done, and he stepped back, Santino slid like a
lifeless piece of trash onto the floor. Sal clutched his knuckles. They
were aching from the blows. Then he
began to leave.
Jody
stood still. He was going to take this
like a man. But when Sal stopped as soon
as he got parallel to Jody, Jody flinched.
“Get
me that tape,” he said to the younger man.
“Yes,
sir,” Jody said without hesitation and hurried to retrieve all recordings from
Sal’s private elevator. While he did so,
Sal picked up Santino’s desk phone and called downstairs. “Come to Sannie’s office,” he said to his front desk chief. “And bring some muscle with you. There’s a mess I need cleaned up.”
“Yes,
sir, boss,” the chief said on the other end of the phone, and then Sal hung
up.
Jody
handed Sal the tape. “Here’s the day’s
recordings from the elevator, sir.”
“Was
a copy made?”
“Yes,
sir. I included that too.”
Sal
nodded, and accepted the tape. “Now get
your ass out of my building.”
Jody’s
heart sunk. “You mean I’m fired, sir?”
Sal
couldn’t believe he asked such a question. “No. I’m giving you a paid
vacation. Of course your ass fired! You weren’t in charge, Sannie was, and that’s why you’re still standing. But I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
“Yes,
sir,” Jody said, and then he took off.
Sal
looked back at the unconscious, beaten body of Santino Druce again. He wasn’t dead, he was going to pull through,
but it was going to be a painful recovery. Then Sal shook his still-aching knuckle. “Fucking head harder than a fucking rock,” he said angrily, and then
left too.
Two
days later and he and Gemma were at the Fern, a restaurant in Vegas, waiting
for Ted Coggan and his client to arrive.
“Where
are these people?” Sal asked as he tossed another handful of nuts into his
mouth. They had been waiting for nearly
half an hour.
Gemma
sent a text to Ted ten minutes ago, explaining to the man that she might have
time to waste, but her husband absolutely didn’t. It was a miracle that he could make it at
all. Ted text her back, stating that he
understood and they were on their way.
“They
should be here in a few minutes,” Gemma responded.
“It
better be a few minutes,” Sal said, “or we’re leaving. Who does he think he is?”
“He’s
a renowned attorney who’s accustomed to people waiting on him.”
“We
aren’t those people,” Sal made clear.
“Agreed,”
Gemma said.
She
was pleased that Sal could come at all, and now for Ted to be this late was
upsetting. She even considered leaving
now, just to prove to him how much they weren’t those people, but it didn’t
matter. He arrived.
“Here
he comes now,” Gemma said when she noticed his presence in the restaurant.
When
Sal saw him he nodded his head. Then
looked at his wife. “And you have the
nerve to talk about me.”
Gemma
was confused. “What do you mean?”
“Me
and my weakness for blondes is no different than you and your weakness for
muscular black
going to let you see my wife’s bare breasts and her naked body and there be no
retribution? Who the fuck do you think
you’re dealing with? Who the fuck do you
think I am?”
And
Sal began the beat down. He beat Santino
in his face so many times that Santino, who tried to fight back, didn’t stand a
chance. Jody knew he was doomed too; he
knew he was going to be next; but he also knew he couldn’t run. If he ran, boss would hunt him down like a
mangy dog in the street and do worse to him than he was doing to Santino. He had to take it here and now and could only
hope to get out of it alive.
Because
Sal Gabrini wasn’t playing. Blood was
spewing from Santino, and populating the big picture window with every lick as
if a painter was splattering it onto a canvas. By the time Sal was done, and he stepped back, Santino slid like a
lifeless piece of trash onto the floor. Sal clutched his knuckles. They
were aching from the blows. Then he
began to leave.
Jody
stood still. He was going to take this
like a man. But when Sal stopped as soon
as he got parallel to Jody, Jody flinched.
“Get
me that tape,” he said to the younger man.
“Yes,
sir,” Jody said without hesitation and hurried to retrieve all recordings from
Sal’s private elevator. While he did so,
Sal picked up Santino’s desk phone and called downstairs. “Come to Sannie’s office,” he said to his front desk chief. “And bring some muscle with you. There’s a mess I need cleaned up.”
“Yes,
sir, boss,” the chief said on the other end of the phone, and then Sal hung
up.
Jody
handed Sal the tape. “Here’s the day’s
recordings from the elevator, sir.”
“Was
a copy made?”
“Yes,
sir. I included that too.”
Sal
nodded, and accepted the tape. “Now get
your ass out of my building.”
Jody’s
heart sunk. “You mean I’m fired, sir?”
Sal
couldn’t believe he asked such a question. “No. I’m giving you a paid
vacation. Of course your ass fired! You weren’t in charge, Sannie was, and that’s why you’re still standing. But I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
“Yes,
sir,” Jody said, and then he took off.
Sal
looked back at the unconscious, beaten body of Santino Druce again. He wasn’t dead, he was going to pull through,
but it was going to be a painful recovery. Then Sal shook his still-aching knuckle. “Fucking head harder than a fucking rock,” he said angrily, and then
left too.
Two
days later and he and Gemma were at the Fern, a restaurant in Vegas, waiting
for Ted Coggan and his client to arrive.
“Where
are these people?” Sal asked as he tossed another handful of nuts into his
mouth. They had been waiting for nearly
half an hour.
Gemma
sent a text to Ted ten minutes ago, explaining to the man that she might have
time to waste, but her husband absolutely didn’t. It was a miracle that he could make it at
all. Ted text her back, stating that he
understood and they were on their way.
“They
should be here in a few minutes,” Gemma responded.
“It
better be a few minutes,” Sal said, “or we’re leaving. Who does he think he is?”
“He’s
a renowned attorney who’s accustomed to people waiting on him.”
“We
aren’t those people,” Sal made clear.
“Agreed,”
Gemma said.
She
was pleased that Sal could come at all, and now for Ted to be this late was
upsetting. She even considered leaving
now, just to prove to him how much they weren’t those people, but it didn’t
matter. He arrived.
“Here
he comes now,” Gemma said when she noticed his presence in the restaurant.
When
Sal saw him he nodded his head. Then
looked at his wife. “And you have the
nerve to talk about me.”
Gemma
was confused. “What do you mean?”
“Me
and my weakness for blondes is no different than you and your weakness for
muscular black
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