His: Tony (The Sabatini Family 2)

The question has me sinking into my chair in relief—that he knows why, that he gets it. That I’m not going crazy. Even though his eyes are closed, I nod as my own eyes close. “Yeah, why do you think I always have music or some sort of noise on around me?”

“The dreams. From the beginning, they were bad, but fucking hell. I’ll take them if it would stop the voices. On and on, almost every fucking day, I hear them. It’s usually the same guy I hear. Sometimes...” He trails off.

“I’ll tell you and only you that I agree with your father and grandfather: the innocent civilians, they shouldn’t get hit. He was my first innocent, had five fucking kids with another on the way. Just some guy trying to do the right thing. Trying to teach his kids right and wrong. He was the first one who didn’t beg. Always with the crying, the begging, and trying to make deals—not him. A gun in his face and he took it like a man. Asked me to leave his body where it would be found quickly, his wife would need the insurance for her and the kids. I was supposed to make him disappear off the face of the earth. I couldn’t. A man like that, he deserved to have his last request honored.” Running a hand over his face, he sighs.

“Scusa.” Sorry. He all but whispers the word. “I shouldn’t have ordered you so many times. You’re just too damn good at it. You got the good front. All ice, nothing gets to you. I still remember that one hit. You were fucking covered in blood from you and the guy. So many damn knife wounds bleeding and you standing there like your heart wasn’t even beating fast.”

He shudders. “Shit you not, you scared the fuck out of me at how ice you were. I bought into the myth, figured you were all good. You never indicated otherwise. Then again, don’t we all do that? Pretend the killing doesn’t get to us? Hell, after that first time, there’s the high we all catch. That feeling of power, of being fucking god. Now I can’t sleep through the night without drugging the fuck out of myself. It wasn’t something my father ever warned me about. Did yours?”

I shake my head. “He warned me about VD, drugs, and women, but left out that part. I wish to hell he hadn’t. It was the first conversation, warning—I had with Anthony and Dominic. After I took them shooting for the first time. You could see the excitement in their eyes at handling a gun and it stopped me cold. I wish to hell Dominic’s first hit came later than fucking fifteen. I never wanted that for him. I should have been with him and Anthony, the way my father was with me.”

“Regret, there’s no point in it. You got to let that shit go. Dom is a good man. He never caught it, did he?” He cocks his head to the side as he looks me over.

“Not really, thank fuck. He admitted he got the high, but he didn’t give in to it the way...”

“You did what needed to be done for your boy. The war was a bloody time for all of us, Tony. You never killed more than the family needed done—did you?” Yeah, Johnny is a decade older than me, but there was a whole lot he didn’t know about the things I did.

I don’t meet his eye. It was done. As he said, there’s no point in regret, in talking about the past.

“Fuck,” he sighs the word. “From now on, everyone gets their turn. I promise you that.”

“I appreciate it. I heard you are getting a new shipment of heroin today. Have you cut it yet?”

His eyebrows go up. “Not yet, uncut. Putting someone to sleep? How beautiful is she?”

“From everything she’s been through, I figure she deserves to go out easy.”

“You just hate pulling a trigger on a woman and watching them bleed.” He shrugs. “I understand completely. It always feels wrong to kill a woman, no matter they can be as evil as any man out there.” Standing, he nods. “I’ll have someone deliver it to your bookstore in a few hours.”

“Thank you.” Getting up I follow him out, then set the alarm once he’s gone.

Carmella comes out of the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I go into the kitchen, grabbing the file and my cell phone. I tuck the phone into my pocket as I head back into my office. Opening the top drawer of my desk, I toss the file inside.

My phone rings, it’s Joseph. “Boss, where are you? You need me?”

He’s concerned, I check the time. Shit, I’m almost an hour later than normal. “I’m on my way now. Give me ten.”

“Okay.”

***

Christy

Closing the door behind the woman, I sigh with relief. The woman had been here for almost two hours, going through all my prints and household stuff so she could resell on her website. Then I helped her load a moving truck with the contents of what used to be my life. As I look around, the place is practically empty. I pull out the wad of cash from my pocket. Four thousand five hundred dollars was what the contents of a four bedroom, three thousand square foot home went for.

If I had time, I’m sure I could have made more money but I don’t. The first night Lisa came over, I spent all night planning for the time after I do it. I need money to set up in a new city. Although I liquidated my 401k, my hope is once I’m safe I can roll it over and not take the tax hit and keep growing. Hopefully, the money from today will be enough to set myself up. I’ve already picked the place, and it isn’t cheap. I had considered selling my car, but the new city doesn’t have a strong transit system the way Chicago does. I quickly realized that I would need it not just to make my escape but when I got to the new city.

This has to work, all of it. Despite what Lisa thinks, this isn’t a suicide mission. I’m doing this so I can wake up every day and look at myself in the mirror. To know I’m worthy of taking up space, breathing air, and living the life I want. Once this is done, I’ll run fast and far.

With that thought in mind, I go into the bedroom that now only has a bed in it. I pick up my phone to start reading as Lisa ordered me to.

Over an hour later, I toss my phone away from me. Holy freaking crap, Lisa wasn’t kidding. The stories she instructed me to read were basically porn. Hot as fuck and it’s doing the job. I reach for my vibrator. Last night I had used the toy that sucked on my clitoris, and following Lisa’s instructions, I’m now too sore to use it today.

Yet as I begin applying lube, it hits me. This feels so wrong, doing all of this to entice Tony Sabatini. To make him want me when all I want to do is put a bullet inside his chest. Even as I finish the thought, I shake my head. If I don’t do this right, none of it will matter because I’ll be dead too.

Sighing, I slide the vibrator inside me. Despite the lube and the fact it’s only an inch and a half wide, it’s been so long since I had anything inside me that my body protests, and it takes a minute to get comfortable with it. Closing my eyes, I think of the last story I read. How the man took control of the woman, his big hands gripping her hips tight as he slammed into her body.