Chapter 22 #2
Luckily, the cross bars stopped me from dropping to the pavement below. I kicked at the rusty drop ladder to escape, but it wouldn’t budge.
A shot pinged off the iron frame and I pushed my back against the brick.
As I waited for Vincent’s goons to find their balls, I checked and replaced the clip of my Glock.
The familiar waffled hand guard of an ArmaLite poked out.
I rolled and fired into the body of the idiot who’d been stupid enough to broadcast his presence.
Then I took out the two behind him as well.
One of them didn’t get up, but the other crawled toward a door probably hoping to get away.
Before I killed him, I shot the man still in my grip.
The pieces of his head splattered against the wall, painting it red.
That made the one still moving scramble. I chewed up the frame trying to end him, but didn’t get the right angle to take him out.
The guy who fell down the stairs with George emerged at the end of the hall and fired at me as I tried to correct that situation. His bullet caught my jacket, leaving a trail of heat and the familiar sting of a graze.
That was too close and it pissed me off. I fired on him until my gun ran out. Then I tugged the rifle away from the dead body hanging out the window and let the hallway feel my wrath.
The echoes of the rapid fire made my ears ring.
That’s how I missed the guy coming down the fire escape.
Instead of killing me, he hit me on the head once. That hurt, but I was still standing.
Which just wouldn’t do.
The second blow took me down.
I woke tied to a chair.
The angle of light coming in from the windows told me I’d lost an hour.
Ellie was going to be pissed at me for ditching her.
I cursed my stupidity and focused on the room.
Vincent sat in a chair across from me. He cleaned under his fingernails with a stiletto.
Poser.
Other than the grazed shoulder, the splinter puncture, and a throbbing head, I was functional. He should have stabbed me with that blade while I was out.
Apparently, he needed to talk first. Yippie, just what I needed.
“You are a particular menace, Mr. Devlin.”
“I take after my mother that way.” Maybe even my father.
Vincent wasn’t in a joking mood. His jaw clenched and he paused his fascination with his fingernails as he probably contemplated driving that knife into me. “I want something from you.”
“Name it.” If it got me out of here, I’d promise just about anything. Hell, I’d lie and promise him whatever his little black heart desired if it got me out of here. Then I’d return and kill him.
“I want Chicago.”
As if I could deliver that?
On consideration, I likely could. All it would take is Don Manca’s approval, the combined yeses from the ruling council, and me stepping down as the Conti heir. No big, right? Except, there was at least one more person in his way.
“Alfonzo will have a problem with that.”
“He won’t. He’s weak.”
If this were a different place and a different time, I’d truly consider stepping down. In fact, if he’d approached me last night, unarmed, I’d have made his little fantasy happen.
But that was before getting hit on the head.
Twice.
I slipped the zip ties they’d wrapped around my wrists over the large joint of my thumb. They should have duct-taped them in place. That would have made this take at least two minutes longer while I worked up the sweat it took to make the adhesive loosen.
He had three men left. The guy who’d rolled down the steps with George and two others. Each had an AR-15 in hand. The one farthest back would be the hardest. I needed a shield.
And I knew just the right body to use. “Conti-Messina is connected, not weak.”
That observation was met with narrowed eyes. “I’m connected, too. You can make that change happen.”
Ah, a contract. “Seven million, a day.”
Vincent shook his head, disagreeing with me. “You’ll do it for free, or you’ll die right here.”
I smiled as the last plastic cuff slipped free. “I don’t think so.”
I led with my head, pulling the chair with me and using the proximity of his body to stave off immediate retribution.
Dropping the chair, I wrapped around my prey and took his knife.
It took maybe three seconds. Mario really needed to get me training new recruits in the gym sooner rather than later. I held the blade to his neck. “If any of you move, he’s dead. Got it?”
They held position as I dragged Vincent toward the window. I glanced out and picked the one with a fire escape. This time I’d use the damn thing and jump to the ground at the end. Fuck waiting.
The guards clustered as they moved closer.
Even better.
Using his body like a bowling ball, I lifted just enough to keep Vincent from dragging his feet and rushed the group.
They scattered, but not nearly fast enough.
I caught one of them as I dropped their boss. The butt end of my borrowed knife hit him at the base of his skull, repaying him with a fucking headache, or maybe even a concussion that would kill him. I didn’t care at this point.
I stabbed a second guard who stepped into the fray. His gun popped off twice, tearing at the ceiling. I wrested it from his grip and leveled it at the room. “Move. I dare you.”
Vincent raised both hands.
His guards, however, didn’t. The one at my feet groaned.
I danced away, knowing it was deadly to remain too close as he got his bearings.
“Here’s how it’s going down. You’ll answer to Alfonzo, just like we arranged.
If I hear any complaints, all four of you are on the list. Not my list, the Left Hand’s list. One wrong move and you won’t see it coming.
Death is the reward, boys. Life is your gift… for now.”
I slowly edged my way to the door.
“This isn’t over, Devlin,” Vincent warned.
I paused. “Why’s that?”
“You’re an upstart. A bastard. You haven’t proven yourself. You don’t even have the family name.”
“What do I need to do? Kiss your ass? I think not.”
“You can’t even kill Porciello. Do that, and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Work faster,” he got to his feet and brushed his suit off. “Or I’ll let everyone know the Left Hand can’t be counted on.”
As insults go, that one was worthy of death. I crushed the urge to pull the trigger and waste all of them. They’d be better use to me alive.
Maybe.
Emboldened by his boss’s bravado, the one on the floor pulled his handgun. I let my baser instincts run free.
When the smoke cleared, all four were dead.
And I was in a world of shit for killing family.