Chapter 136 138

Chapter 136 138
There’s a waver in his voice, sort of like a drunken man’s. I wonder how much he’s been drinking tonight. Maybe the pain of losing his hand sent him to the bottle. Maybe he’s slightly unhinged. Or, perhaps, I’m just hoping for some sort of advantage. “How much?”

“Money? You think this is about money?”

No, I think this is about you luring me out into the middle of nowhere so you can either kill or kidnap me. But he is hardly going to come out and say that.

“What else would it be about? Like you said, this is business.”

“You tell me, Carlo,” he chuckles. “How much do you think this whore’s life is worth?”

“She’s worth everything.” Maury tosses me a glance. The other men look down at the table. They know I should be keeping my cool, but to hear Hazel called a whore, to know that if I’d just kept her close to me she wouldn’t be in this danger… it’s too much. “You were blessed with the most amazing daughter a man could ask for and you threw it all away. You’re a fucking idiot, Fergal.”

“Are you done?” he asks. “But I like the sound of that everything. How about we just start with five million dollars? You know the drill, don’t you, motherfucker? Bring the cash, alone, unarmed. If I so much as get a whiff of garlic in the air, I’m gonna put a bullet in her belly and make you watch as your baby bleeds out all over the floor. Oh, that’s right. I know about the baby.”

My hand trembles on the phone. He killed Angel. He killed Father. There’s no part of me that doubts he means what he’s saying. These aren’t empty threats.

“Text me the address,” I say. “I’ll be there.”

“You sound upset, Carlo. I hope I haven’t offended you.”

I hang up the phone and lean back, my whole body shaking as my mind fills with evil images of what the Elephant is going to do to my pregnant woman. Yet I know, too, that I can’t just do what he says. I have to make a stand for the Family. Because the Elephant is going to kill me and then kill Hazel anyway. Bringing him that cash won’t end this. It will just be the start.

I nod at the Albino.

“Get me the five million,” I tell him.

“We’re not going to pay that devil?” Maury asks in disbelief. “Carlo, after everything he has done—”

“We are going to pay him,” I say, looking him in his red eyes. “We are going to pay him in blood.”

Maury grins as he rises to his feet. “We will save your woman, Carlo. Congratulations on the baby.” He exits from the room.

I turn to the men, looking into their faces one by one like I do before every job. “Get ready, men. Tonight, we end this fucking war.”

34

Carlo

I drive out to the warehouse alone. There’s no way we would’ve been able to find it without the Elephant’s directions. It’s buried in the heart of the woods, two hours outside the city. By the time I get there, the sun is already rising. I know I’m not alone, that no Family man is ever alone, but as I pull up outside the ramshackle building, I feel pretty damn isolated.

I’ve got nothing on me except the briefcase full of cash and my love for Hazel. I’ve never been surer that today might be my last day. It could all end so quickly. Walk in, the Elephant laughs, shoots Hazel in the head, and then turns his gun to me …

But I can’t think like that.

I have to believe there’s a version of today where Hazel and I get out alive, where we start a new life together. I love her. I want to tell her that. I want us to argue about baby names. I want her to decorate our child’s bedroom in crazy Surrealist fever dreams and then turn to douse me with paint. I’ll crush her with a kiss.

I push away the future and focus on the present, approaching the warehouse. Benjamin Sweeney comes walking out wearing a gray hoodie and sweatpants with mud-colored boots. Weirdly, he offers me a smile.

“Hello, Carlo,” he says.

“Uh, hello,” I reply.

He casually moves his pistol from hand to hand. Behind him I see other Irishmen, crowding around the door, guns brandished. “Is that the cash?”

I nod.

“I guess this is kind of ironic, isn’t it? How you’re my prisoner now?”

I smile grimly. “I guess so. Funny how life works.”

“My dad wants you to hand him the cash yourself, but first we’ve gotta search you, y’know, to make sure you’re not trying to pull a fast one on us. Put the briefcase down and raise your arms.” I do as he says, and then Benjamin strolls over to me. He puts his gun into the back of his pants. “If you try to hurt me, they’ll kill you.”

I nod. I won’t try anything yet, anyway. Not until I see that Hazel is safe.

Benjamin pats me down from top to bottom, and then leans in and whispers in my ear, “Do you love my sister?”

“Yes,” I murmur, wondering what the hell has come over him. “More than anything.”

“Wow,” he says. “Guess what, Carlo? I’ve never killed any children. Or women. Daddy fixed up some crime scenes so it looked like I did, to, like, give me a reputation. I’ve killed men, don’t get me wrong, but they were always in the life. I’m no lady killer. In both meanings of the term. You get it?” He cackles.

I just nod again. I have no idea what to say. This could be some trick, a twisted game. It’s hard to tell with Benjamin Sweeney.

He steps back, leveling his pistol again. “Open the case. We need to make sure there’s not a bomb in there or anything.”

I open the briefcase and let him look over the cash. This is the part where it could all go wrong. I force myself to look straight ahead, to pretend that this is all routine. Because if he sees it, I’m fucked. Hazel is fucked. But then he grunts and slams it shut, handing it to me.

“Come on, then,” he says. “Let’s go see the Elephant.”

I walk into the warehouse, hazy sunlight coming in through windows set high into the walls. The room is empty except for a couch and a poker table in the corner, and some broken crates at the very rear. Hazel is tied to a goddamn chair with her arms and legs zip-tied like meat ready for market.

I spot some industrial equipment right behind the crates, heavy metal that will serve well as cover. Then I see Benjamin looking between me and the crates, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. He gives me a nod. I have no clue what to make of it. Maybe I’m imagining it, but it’s like he knows I’m planning something. Did he see what I stowed in the briefcase? But how? We hid it well, and he didn’t look that closely.

The short, bald man who killed my father and little brother turns to me with a theatrical bow. “What a fuckin’ pleasure this is, eh?” he growls. “Carlo De Maggio in the flesh.”

He doesn’t look good. I think I was right about the drinking. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t posted scouts, like I would’ve done. Maybe that’s why, once we got the location, this place was so easy to approach.