“Oh, my!” Pinkie said. “What do we have here?”
When Miguel reached toward the case to pick up one of the packets, Gennaro noticed Toomey also moved closer to Pinkie to see inside the case.
That was Gennaro’s cue. He reached under the table.
As Gennaro freed the gun, Miguel said, “What is this? Some kind of joke?”
Ignoring him, Gennaro pushed out of his chair, and whipped up the gun, his aim moving between Pinkie, Miguel, and Toomey.
Pinkie glared at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“The money’s mine,” Gennaro said. He jutted his chin at the bills Miguel was holding. “Put it back.”
Miguel snorted. “You want this? You can have it.”
He tossed the bills onto the table in front of Gennaro, and several notes slipped out of the band.
Gennaro glanced at them, then blinked and glanced again.
All but one were one-dollar bills.
Gennaro couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing.
As he reached for them, he caught movement across the table and looked up in time to see Miguel grabbing his gun.
Without thinking, Gennaro pulled his trigger. Miguel slammed back in his chair, a hole in his forehead.
Gennaro pointed his gun at Pinkie, as Toomey yanked out his pistol and aimed it at Gennaro.
“Drop it or I shoot Pinkie,” Gennaro said to him.
Pinkie raised his hands, palms out. “Let’s not make this worse than it already is. Ricky, put that thing away and we can talk, okay?”
“Tell Toomey to drop his gun, or I swear I’ll kill you.”
“Come on, Ricky,” Pinkie said. “There’s no need to—”
“Tell him!”
The man who’d been guardingStefan crept past him toward the dining room, using the guy named Toomey to shield his movement.
The second Stefan was sure no one had eyes on him, he stood and rushed toward the back of the house. He knew if he tried to use the door, someone might shoot him in the back before he could get it open.
So he went with the only option that guaranteed to get him outside, and dove through the window on the back wall.
A cacophony of breaking glasscame from the kitchen.
Everyone turned toward the noise, including Toomey, who by doing so inadvertently revealed Scotty’s attempt to sneak up to the doorway and get the drop on Gennaro.
Gennaro’s gun boomed again, the bullet catching Scotty in the throat just as Scotty pulled his own trigger. The impact threw Scotty’s aim off, sending his return shot low, hitting Gennaro in the thigh instead of the intended center mass.
Gennaro was so amped up on adrenaline and terror that he didn’t even realize he’d been shot, let alone that the bullet had nicked his femoral artery.
He immediately switched his aim to Toomey and sent a round into the backstabber’s chest before Toomey had a chance to do anything, then he aimed his barrel at Pinkie again.
Pinkie’s hands were shaking, and his brow was covered with sweat. He no longer looked like the confident crime boss Ricky had been accustomed to seeing all these years.
“Ricky, there’s no reason for anyone else to get hurt,” Pinkie said. “We’re family, remember? Listen, I can get this all cleaned up and make sure nothing blows back on you. I just need you to put the gun away.”
