Again, Bruno made no reply, his stoic expression shielded any hint of emotion. He waited, as the silence between them stretched out like an elastic band, the air getting tenser, strained between them.
“Bruno?” Antonio sounded scared, a different man.
“Don’t give me your dumbass, I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about BS!” Bruno snapped with a fierce growl. “Tell me the truth. Don’t lie to me.”
Raising both hands, Antonio stepped closer to him wearily. “Bruno! Bruno, I’d never be disloyal to you.”
“Come on. Admit it.” Bruno sneered. ”I’m not fucking playing around. Quit stalling and answer the goddamn question. Why did you steal from me? If you needed money; I would have helped you out. You know me, but it hurts my heart that you did that.”
Antonio gave him a blank stare. “Do you think I’m being evasive?”
Bruno laughed. “You’re a filthy snake, Antonio. I’ve worked with you for five years. All this time and apparently, I don’t have a clue who you are. Shit, it makes me sick to hear your name aloud.”
Antonio looked utterly confused. “Bruno...boss. I’m sure we can talk this out like brothers. What do you want me to do?”
Bruno felt his blood begin to boil. “It’s too fucking late. There’s nothing you can do, you’ve earned your fate.” Bruno pointed the pistol at him. The muzzle was like a black eye that saw through his lies.
Antonio’s jaw dropped, stunned. Fear replaced curiosity, and he smiled with a twitch of fearful bewilderment. “You’re fucking kidding me?”
Bruno closed the gap between them and felt a little satisfaction watching Antonio sweat between the crosshairs. .
Antonio narrowed his eyes at him. His cheeks reddened and he looked as if he were holding back rage, but he held it back, pressing his lips into a line instead. “Bruno, look,” he said, “I don’t deserve to die. Let’s go and have a drink and talk this out.”
“You’re in no position to bargain!” Bruno bellowed, holding the man’s head in the sights of his gun, mouth salivating, heart thrumming. Then he let out a sigh and shook his head. “Alright. One last drink with my best pal.” Bruno moved the barrel of his gun away from him. Dropping his gun, he patted the other man on the arm. “I’m only fucking with you, you little pussy!”
Antonio let out a relieved breath. “What you drinking tonight?” He sounded happy, relaxed as he turned around.
His turn was followed by a heart-stopping BOOM!
That was when Bruno shot him, the bullet slashing right through his skull and brain tissue. Antonio’s body hit the ground with a loud thud, and Bruno felt instant relief in his heart.
Hit before he knew it was coming, it was the kindest death he could have had. Bruno lifted the smoking gun to his nose and inhaled the fumes with a look of satisfaction.
Let’s go have a drink and talk this out. Imagine, the nerve of him telling Bruno what to do.
It took perhaps thirty seconds for Bruno to feel the full impact of what he’d done. He stalked slowly over to the man’s body. He heard the short muffled cries which carried from the traitor’s lips. The shot to the head hadn’t killed him.
A precise and deliberate man, it was unlike Bruno to fuck up a bullet to the brain. He had ten kills under his belt so far, all of the men died instantly. Looming over his former friend, Bruno watched his filthy blood pour from the dime-sized hole in his head. Raw, fatty contortions of brain matter hanging from it. His face so pale, his eyes a horrific mixture of terror, desperation, and pain. “It’s guys like you who give the mob a bad name.”
Dying, Antonio panted and whimpered, reaching with the tips of his fingers on his outstretched arm for his gun, which had landed cruelly, a hand’s length out of his reach. There would be no mercy. It was too late for that. Shooting himself dead was his final wish, and even the hands of fate decided that was asking too much.
With the heaviest sigh he may have ever heaved in his life, Bruno crouched down to where his friend lay, close to death.
Blood ran river like from the corpse which lay still, his head cocked lazily to one side.
Bruno’s jaw tightened a few times, and his cold efficient eyes scanned the remains of somebody he’d once thought was truly a great man. This wasn’t the man he’d known. He stared at him and the face he looked into may as well have been the face of an absolute stranger. Antonio died crying and begging. Assuming he’d be remembered for anything, the man who would forever be remembered as a traitor and a coward too. A filthy fucking traitor who’d sold out.
Certain that he was dead, Bruno let out a deep breath. He removed the golden mafia ring from Antonio’s hand and said in a flat monotone, “Rest in peace, my brother.”
Rising to a standing position and stepping over, not around the body, Bruno hurried away.
Heading south, he left the bridge and scurried into a small park across the street. Two uniformed cops stood on the corner.Damn it to hell!He was in a hell of a mess if he couldn’t get out of here—fast. Quickly, he stripped off his clothes and put on a black skull suit and balaclava. He gave the suit he’d worn to commit murder to a homeless bum out by the bridge.
In asshole-ish fashion, Bruno beat pavement back to his car and shoved Toni’s gold ring into his jacket lying on the seat. Then he swiftly put some serious miles between himself and the bridge, not even mildly affected by what he’d just done. A level of detachment that had been both a curse and a blessing all his life.
He didn’t look back.
Chapter Nineteen
