one that took cover--fuck, if I was him, I would've just killed myself. Instead now he's sitting there, chained to a chair with a gag in his mouth. He should've known this was going to happen.
“Whatcha gonna do with him, boss?” I ask Vince.
“Well, we got the information we need, so I couldn't give two fucks. Figured you may wanna take some aggression out, since it was your girl he took.” Vince walks over to the sink in the back room. We're in the basement of the safe house. It's fucking freezing down here. The fucker in the chair has bruises all over his face. His one eye is swollen so bad his face looks inhuman.
Anthony's drying off his tools. I instinctively look down and see three fingers on this fucker's right hand have been removed. That's usually Anthony's first move. They're easy to cut off, and it makes a pretty bold statement.
“So you got everything you need?” I ask Vince as he dries off his hands. He turns back to me.
“Yeah, they aren't going to fuck with us unless they want their entire operation shut down. Thanks, Nik!” Vince slaps a hand on the man's shoulder and he doesn't even react. He's so close to death.
“Alright, I'm good. Just kill the bastard,” I say.
Vince looks at Anthony and he nods as we turn to leave. Anthony's not talkative when he's on the job. Never has been. I used to take offense to it. But now I get it; he has to be in the right headspace, and that doesn't include saying a fucking word.
“There's one more reason I called you down here,” Vince says as we climb the stairs.
“I figured there was.” And it's about Tonya. I know it is. I waited at the station and followed her home last night. I just held her all night; I needed to feel her. Knowing I almost lost her fucking hurts. I'm not letting her go. I can't.
“I understand that you wanna be with her. And truthfully, she's a nice broad.” We walk into his kitchen and he grabs me a beer. The faint sounds of a chainsaw can be heard coming from the basement. It sends chills down my spine.
“I'm not leaving her, Vince. I can't do that.” My stomach drops, knowing that what means. I don't wanna leave my family. The familia is all I know. But I'm not letting her go.
“I get that. I do.” He passes a beer to me and shuts the fridge.
Leaning against the counter, he pops the cap off his beer with his keys. “She's still associated, Tommy.” I put down my beer and shake my head as he tries to pass me his keys. I can't drink right now. “You know we can't have that shit.”
“Yeah. I know.” I do know. I wouldn't be a smart move to have that shit known.
“Good,” he says with finality. “I'm sorry, Tommy.”
I nod my head, my throat closes, and my heart tries to leap out of my chest. “What's it gonna mean, boss?”
“You can't do errands anymore. It can't happen. You can't represent the familia.” I wanna argue with him, but I can't. I know it's true. Fuck--realistically, he should kill me. It's a risk keeping me alive. It's a risk letting her get close. “Not like that, anyway,” he says, and it brings my attention back to him.
“I've been thinking about you and your brother. I think it'd be good to finally take on those contracts. We'd get a shit-ton more money from the hits. And it'd keep us in a good place with our contacts. Anthony always said he'd need another person to help. That's what I want from you two, and he agreed already. Just need you in on this, too.”
My heart slows, and I swear to God I lose feeling in my hands. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you're gonna be taking a cop as your girl, then you're going to have to be a contractor.”
“A contractor?” I ask, not understanding.
“You two will do the hits. We'll give you the names and you get it done.” I nod, taking it all in.
“What about the rest of the familia business?” I ask.
He shakes his head and says, “That's no longer a concern of yours. It keeps things a little neater.”
“I understand.” I take a moment to process it as he opens my beer himself and hands it to me. I finally ask, “Does that mean I don't have to call your ass