Page 58 of Mafia Bride
It didn’t work. He was too little a man with too many nerves. Emilio should have known better.
I parked by our usual spot and we all met at the rear bumper. Emilio made some smartass remark about soap and how tight it was in the back seat.
“You can drive home,” I said, pocketing the keys after I unlocked the trunk because I knew better.
“She’s a good car.” Emilio patted me on the shoulder. “You’ll miss her when she’s gone.”
“Unlikely.” I hoisted the lid of the trunk, its protesting creaks and groans eaten by the marshes. The guy tied and taped up scowled and thrashed against his restraints but Emilio had taught me not to underestimate the value of a good knot. The tighter he squirmed the tighter he made the restraints.
When Emilio first hired me, I thought we’d talk about guns and territories and family hierarchy…but no. It was all ropes and knots, like we were on a fucking sailboat.
I dragged the guy out of the trunk and threw him on the ground. Reached in the deeper recesses of the trunk for a shovel and slammed it shut.
Dami stood there like a guy about to revisit his lunch.
“Dami.” Emilio pulled out his gun, and my buddy’s eyes got wider. I have to admit, I had a moment of worry. A guy never knew what another guy could get caught doing. But Emilio turned the gun around in his hand and passed it to Dami with the business end facing the ground. “Since you’re the one who got thissfigatowhere we could reach him, you get to do the honors.” He might as well have said, “Make me proud, son.”
Even though Dami took the gun, I was thinking it was going to be a long fucking night.
“We’re doing him a favor.” Emilio took the guy by the hair and jerked him to his knees. The fear in our captive’s eyes was palpable. “Either we do it fast or his boss is gonna do it slow.”
Damiano wiped his face with one hand and pointed the gun with the other. Thesfigatoflinched because he knew this was it for him. Poor fucking guy. Didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to his mother.
Right about then is when I started to wonder why I was not shaking. Why I didn’t care. Why I just wanted to get the business done and move on. It wasn’t that the guy was a rapist. He came to us with an opportunity because we paid better than the Tabonas—the family he pledged to. He was a stupid and careless soldier. Not worth killing except that it would put us—a soldier cell of the Cavallos—in a position to find a profitable peace. Emilio would rise to capo and give me and Dami a place we belonged, if only my friend would stop acting like such a fuckingvergine.
I hadn’t killed anyone either. I decided I just might shake too, because before I worried about hell, I had to believe I had a soul to burn.
“You won’t be green after this,” Emilio promised Dami. “After your first, it’s like riding a bike. It’s new. New shit is scary. But it’s a whole damn lot easier once you get up and going. Once you’re ready for it, know what to expect. You understand?”
Dami nodded but it was clear he couldn’t do it. Emilio was getting bored. Thesfigatotied up before us laughed from behind the duct tape. Not just any close-mouthed chuckle, but a laugh of derision. Like if we were going to kill him, he was going to get an insult in and Dami was so out of sorts, the guy with a gun to his head was telling him to get on with it.
So Emilio nodded in my direction and I knew what to do. I laid my hand over Dami’s and waited for him to loosen his grip on the gun. He didn’t. He knew that if I did his job, it wouldn’t look good.
“You’re shaking,” I said loud enough for Emilio to hear. “Did you eat? You sick or something?”
I’d known Dami so long, I could tell he understood what I was saying was not what I meant.
“Just a little agita.” His grip relaxed. “I don’t wanna miss is all.”
“You get the next one.”
My friend let go of the gun and I took it, swung my arm around, and popped thesfigatoright in the face. A spray of blood blew out the back of his head, and he wavered on his knees as if falling one way or the other was the difference between heaven and hell, and God and the devil were fighting over his soul. He dropped to the left. Another win for the devil.
Easiest kill I ever had. Didn’t even think about it. Just handed Emilio his gun.
Then I started digging, because I’m a kid—a nobody—and that’s what nobodies did.
“You understand I need men under me who do what I tell them?” Emilio got in Damiano’s face. “These people aren’t your friends. You’re not responsible to them or their fucking immortal souls, and if you’re worried about your own, go join the priesthood.”
Emilio snapped to me and put his hand out. I knew to stop digging, but as soon as I leaned on my shovel I got this feeling I had only had once before. The bathroom in my building had two sinks. The one on the right had water that sometimes came out brown. The other had an exposed wire for the overhead light touching the pipe. The electric water didn’t hurt, but if I touched the flow right out of the faucet, it shook the nerves of my hands to the bone.
When I stopped shoveling, my whole body felt like that. All I wanted was a cigarette, so I lit one up.
“I think it was the capicola.” Dami held up his hand. “I’m still shaking.”
I glanced over as I tossed a shovelful aside. He was not shaking. Not really. Anyone could see he was faking it.
“Santi,” Emilio reached toward me and snapped his fingers before opening his palm. “Give me that.”
