Slipping the phone in my pocket after I turned it off, I looked down at my watch.
It’s time for the game to begin, motherfuckers.
* * *
I walked down some,waiting in front of Dolce. The smell of vealparmigianainvaded my nostrils and tightened my throat.
Right on cue, two masked men jumped out of a waiting car, hustling to the alley.
Shouts. Gunshots. The kitchen staff was dead.
Boo. Bam. Boo. Three down.
More gunshots. The two masked men ran back out from the alley. Three men ran behind them.
The waiting car sped away with the two masked men. The three dumbfucks ran down the street to the parking garage. They were going to try to chase them down.
“Yeah,” I breathed. “And how did that work out for you last time? All brawn and no brain.”
I casually walked down the alley, head down. I stood to the side of the kitchen door listening. Arturo was shouting. In all his years as the King of New York, only one soul had ever tried him.
Corrado Palermo.
This was a turn of events he wasn’t used to.
I laughed a little, listening to him scold Achille. After the old man retired, he’d take over. The insane joker would rule a kingdom of misfits.
Two more Scarpone men came rushing out of the door, one at a time. When the first stopped, the other one did, and the first hit the second on the chest—a signal that meant, keep your ears and eyes open, and your mouth shut. The other guy nodded.
These men had done nothing to me except work for the family inside. So this wasn’t personal. And to slit a person’s throat, that was fucking personal. Without a word, I took them each out with a bullet to the back of the brain. It made a mess, but blood ran out of the kitchen anyway. The gun was quieter than the two bodies that hit the ground.
I stepped into the kitchen like I owned the place. As predicted, three bodies were down on the floor.
Looked like Cash Kelly had gotten his revenge, even if he hadn’t been able to touch the main players. He’d have some clout in this town, even if his two guys ran away after.
The Scarpones had been weakened, but they were known to eat their septic paws to save the entire body. Because of that, Cash would earn some respect from the Italians, even if the Italians would be more cautious of him and his motives. In general, the Irish and Italians worked together in harmony or stayed clear of one another.
Until I started in.
Before the newly crowned princes could get the jump on me, I took Achille’s two sons out. One of them fell against the wall and slid down, gun still in his hand. The other one looked shocked for a moment, his gun still raised, before he slumped over the card table.
Achille and the whiz kid son had gone to the front of the restaurant. I figured they would, to check things out.
I took a seat beside Arturo after I collected the prince’s guns, my back against the wall, and set my gun on my lap. This was my honorary seat, the glass of whiskey untouched.
“Mind if I join you?” I slid a pile of cards my way, and then took a sip of my whiskey. It was in my honor, after all. I set the cards face down, looking Arturo in the eyes. “Seems like I got dealt a shitty hand. I demand a do over.”
His shoulder holster held two guns, and even though he itched to use them, he waited me out. This was too good for even him to pass up. After all, what did he have to be afraid of? A ghost with a gun? A man who was outnumbered three to one?
That’s right, my butterfly.The devil comes in threes.
“Walk away now.” He rolled his teeth over his bottom lip. “And I’ll let you live.”
I leaned forward, taking more cards from the pile. I slid the shitty hand toward him. “Let me live?” I grinned. “After you were so kind to slit my throat and let me die like an animal, alone and out on the cold cement, right next to the trash.”
“You double-crossed me. No one double-crosses me and lives to tell about it.”
“Ah. But I did.” My throat tightened and my voice came out sharp and rough. Scar tissue sometimes made my voice do funny things. “I’m telling about it.” I waved a hand, taking out a card and replacing it with another in the pile. “That’s all old news. It’s time to put an old ghost to rest.”
