Falling for the Killer

“How many businesses do you own?” She stared at me, surprised.

“A lot,” I said. “Most of my money’s tied up in them.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to invest in property.”

I grinned at her and tilted my head. “What do I strike you as then?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Meathead? Thief?”

“All of the above.”

She laughed and chewed on her thumbnail as I turned toward the edge of my territory. This was disputed land and I drove slowly, scanning the sidewalks ahead of me. I felt a surge of adrenaline when I spotted three guys sitting on a stoop a block over, two of them with flaming red hair. I didn’t recognize them, but I spotted a strung-out-looking skinny girl approach the one, slip him some cash, and get a little baggy in return.

I circled around, chatting aimlessly with Ash, and scoped the out. Definitely Healy boys, and definitely selling on my turf. I pulled up another block and parked.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “You seem tense.”

“I’m about to do something dangerous,” I said, and leaned toward her. “You want to see me break a man’s knee?”

She blinked rapidly, opened her mouth, then quickly shook her head. “No, I really don’t.”

“Then you’d better stay here.”

“Gian—”

But I was already pushing open the door.

She followed, even though I warned her. I stalked down the block and spotted the guys sitting out on the same stoop. One wore dark, baggy jeans and a big sweatshirt. I figured he’d have the stash, or maybe they’d left it somewhere nearby. Another had on shorts and a basketball shirt, and the other was decked out in Phillies gear. They didn’t notice me until it was too late.

“Hey, fellas,” I said, smiling as I stepped up onto the curb.

The guy in the Phillies gear turned to me. “There something we can do—”

I interrupted him by slamming my fist into his mouth.

He staggered back, shocked, and I kneed him hard in the gut. Ash stood on the curb staring, and I glanced back with vicious smile.

I lived for this shit.

Baggypants got to his feet and was reaching for something. He fumbled around and I threw Phillies in his direction. Baggypants grunted as Phillies collided with him, and both of them went sprawling back onto the stoop.

Basketball had his shit together though. He came at me hard, swung once, twice, and I ducked them both before stepping in close. I punched him in the chest, then the throat, and kicked the inside of his knee as hard as he could. It made a satisfying snap and he screamed in pain as he dropped to the ground.

There was the broken knee I promised.

Phillies was on his feet and Baggypants managed to pull the gun he’d been messing with. I jumped on Phillies, slammed my forehead into his nose, and felt a hot spray of blood hit my cheeks. I shoved him at Baggypants again as the dumb fuck took a blind, wild shot at me. The bullet missed and slammed into the wall behind me, but I didn’t hesitate. Ash was too close for this dumb fuck to start shooting.

I smashed my shoulder into his chest and fell off the stoop with him. I landed hard on my side and grunted, but grabbed onto the gun. Baggypants wrestled me and Phillies joined in, kicking me in the ribs as his nose bled. I had to control the gun, or else this fight was over before it started. I kicked Baggypants in the stomach twice before turning his wrist as hard as I could, barely managing to dodge another kick from Phillies.

The gun came free. I rolled to the side and came up, holding it out toward Phillies’ stunned and bloody face. Baggypants cursed and put his hands up right away.

“On the ground,” I said, gesturing down. “Get on the ground right now, you dumb motherfuckers.”

Phillies slowly lowered himself to the pavement. Baggypants followed. They kept their hands up on their heads, but I wasn’t too worried. I figured if any of them were holding, they would’ve pulled by now.

Basketball rolled from side to side, moaning in pain, gripping his mangled knee a few feet away.

Ash watched with horror, her face pale and shocked.

“Who sent you?” I asked.

“Fuck you,” Baggypants said.

I guess he didn’t get the message yet. I walked over and kicked him hard in the face. He gasped as blood spouted from his mouth.

“Let me try again,” I said. “Who sent you?”

“Colm,” Phillies said. “We got assigned to this corner, man.”

“You realize this is my turf?” I pressed the warm barrel against Phillies’ head. “You know who I am now?”

“Fuck,” Phillies whispered. “Don’t kill me.”

“You shouldn’t have come anywhere near this place,” I said. “Colm fucked you.” I was about to pull the trigger when the guy moaned and shook his head.