Chapter 45
Imake eye contact with one of them, and time slows down. He aims his gun at me, and I forget that I even have one tucked behind my chasuble. Fear runs down my spine.
I hear shouting, stomping, and gunshots, but I have no idea what’s happening around me. All I can focus on is the dark barrel pointed directly at my chest.
His finger squeezes the trigger, and then I’m flying through the air, the sound deafening. My head bounces off the wood floor, disorienting me some more.
When I realize I’m not shot, I turn and look behind me and see Javier on his back. He’s got blood gushing from his arm, but with his other one, he reaches for his weapon.
I scurry across the floor, my knees slipping on the chasuble. The man who aimed at me earlier, does the same again. Javier hastily aims and shoots, hitting him in the knee.
The man lets out a screech before collapsing.
My eyes frantically bounce around the room, and I see my dad shoot a man in the chest at the same time another man shoots my dad in the back.
“No!” I yell.
Dad stumbles forward and Javier rushes over. The man who just shot my father aims at Javi and shoots twice.
“No!”
I can only yell the same word over and over as I process what’s happening.
Javier drops.
The sound of a bullet exploding from a gun bursts through the room and the masked man goes down. When my eyes scan the area, I find my dad standing there with the gun still gripped tightly in his hand. He shot him.
I crawl across the bloody floor and get to Javier. I look over at my dad who has blood seeping from his back.
Javier’s been hit in the chest and shoulder. Plus the shot in his arm when he shoved me out of the way.
Three bullet wounds. My heart sinks.
“No, no, no, no,” I cry, not sure where to put my hands. “Javi, please.”
He’s still conscious, but barely. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t say that.”
His eyes flutter open and I grab his hands. “You’re stronger than this. You told me not to doubt you. You said you’d always come back.”
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
“No. You’re fine. You’re gonna be fine.”
I rip the chasuble over my head and press it against the worst looking wound in his chest. Dad stumbles closer before slumping against the wall, his shirt bloodied. It looks like he wasn’t only shot in the shoulder. The lower part of his shirt is wet with blood.
“Oh my God. Are you okay?”
I move closer to him to rip open his shirt and look for another wound. He puts his hand on my wrist, stopping me. His eyes move over my shoulder, staring at Javier. I follow the gaze and find Javi still conscious and looking in our direction.
“I was surprised when I overheard a conversation between you two at my safe house,” Dad says, his voice weak and gravelly. “I guess there’s plenty of things that happen under my nose that I’m not aware of.”
“Dad,” I start.
He lets go of my wrist. “I’m sorry, Son.”
Tears stream from my eyes. “Don’t.”
“I told you before that I’d never beg for forgiveness from anyone, but I’m asking you to forgive me. I’m sorry I wasn’t better. I only wanted to look out for you.”
I shake my head, not ready for this conversation. Not wanting to know what it means that he feels he has to say this now.
“I need to call the cops. You both need an ambulance.”
I rush to find my phone, but it was tossed around in the chaos.
“I hope he makes it,” Dad says. “I hope you find happiness.”
My heart shatters as I frantically search for my phone.
“Cortez.” Javi’s scratchy voice breaks through the silence. “I—”
“You’ll take care of him. Take care of each other.” His breathing becomes labored. “I didn’t want to say anything. You clearly didn’t want me to know.”
“Where’s my fucking phone?” I yell, tears pouring out of me, panic rising.
“Son,” Dad says. “I love you.”
I stop and look at him, my heart breaking. He could still survive if I could get some help out here. If I could find a phone.
“I love you, too,” I manage to get out through sobs.
Footsteps approach, and I’m thankful my dad made the call to the guys before all hell broke loose, but when it’s only one man that walks through, the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
“Well, well, well,” the man says, calmly walking through the massacre. “The almighty Cortez Gallo has fallen.”
“Sammy,” Dad mutters.
Recognition hits. Sammy is the boss of the Bonettis.
“Looks like Johnny did what he needed to do after all.” He pauses near Johnny’s body. “Guess it came with a sacrifice.”
I notice he has a gun in his hand already, finger near the trigger, ready to pull.
“It’s not over, Sammy,” Dad says, sounding a little stronger than earlier.
Sammy, a man with hair too dark to be natural for someone of his age, has pockmarked skin, and a scar cut across his cheek. He appears to still be in good shape for someone who has to be in their early sixties.
“It will be,” Sammy says simply, raising the gun and shooting my father in the head.
I can’t explain what happens, but utter shock, fear, and fury like I’ve never felt combine together to fill me with a quiet rage. I don’t scream and I hardly move—my eyes are trained at my dad’s face, a bullet hole between his eyes. I almost don’t believe what I’m seeing.
Javier is on the floor crying out for my father, and it gets Sammy’s attention.
Without a thought, I pull the gun from my pants, turn off the safety, and as he aims his gun at Javier, I squeeze the trigger.
His body jerks and then his eyes are on me, gun swinging in my direction. Javier screams, trying his best to reach the man’s feet.
I shoot again. And again. Until he crumbles into a heap on the floor.
Before I can lower the gun, several people come rushing in with their own weapons drawn. I turn toward them, and it takes a few seconds before I recognize them as my dad’s men.
“Call an ambulance,” I tell them.
As they take in the scene, a couple of guys rush to Javier, and I begin to snap out of my shocked state. I drop to the floor next to my father, and take his hand in mine, leaning forward until my head is on his shoulder. Sobs wrack my body, tears falling down my cheeks and dripping from my chin.
“What happened?” someone asks. When neither Javier nor I respond, he asks again, his voice louder. “What the fuck happened?”
“They killed Johnny,” I say, sitting up and leaning against the wall, still holding my dad’s hand.
“We thought it was over, but then people rushed in and started shooting. They both had been shot, but it was fine. It was going to be okay,” I cry.
“I was looking for my phone to call the police but then he came in,” I say, gesturing to Sammy.
“He shot my dad in the head.” I swallow, hating how those words taste on my tongue. “So I killed him.”
“Fuck!” one of the men yells.
“Let’s get Javier to a hospital,” someone says.
I crawl toward him, reaching out to touch him before I think better of it. “Is he gonna be okay?”
“Not if we don’t get him to a hospital.”
“Did someone call the cops?” I ask.
They each look around at the scene, and I know they’re thinking about the legal fallout.
“Call the fucking cops!” I yell. “I’ll figure out what to tell them, but all of this can’t be swept under the rug.
Call them and then leave. I’ll handle the rest.” I think about something.
“Wait. Take Johnny. He can’t be here.” A few of the guys look at each other.
“Hurry up and take him and call the goddamn cops!”
A guy I haven’t seen before pulls a phone from his pocket. “I got my burner on me. I’ll call.”
Two other guys head for Johnny and start cutting the tape.
Elio and Dante look sick. Elio keeps taking glances at my father like he expects him to jump up and be fine. Dante keeps rubbing his head and cursing under his breath.
“I’m sorry, kid,” Dante says. “Fuck! Let’s go. We gotta talk to George.”
Everyone leaves, and I hear the other guy telling the dispatcher that we’re in a house near St. Joseph’s church right before he walks out.
I find my way to Javier, taking his limp hand in mine. He’s unconscious now, but still has a pulse.
Rocking back and forth, I bring his hand to my mouth and kiss his palm before resting my cheek in it. “Oh God, please,” I cry. “Please, I can’t lose them both.”
After a minute of crying, reality sets in. The scene is grim. There’s multiple dead bodies in here, and blood paints the walls and floors. The cops will know who my dad is. This will go down as a mob killing and I have to craft the best story I can, because all of us are responsible for murder.
They will investigate this thoroughly, so whatever I say has to save Javier and me from going to jail. That’s if he survives.
With Johnny’s body removed, I have a better chance at painting the best story, but I have to clean up evidence he was here.
Quickly, I remove all remnants of tape and shove them in a small plastic trash bag.
I grab a towel from under the sink and clean up the blood that dripped under his body while he was in the chair, and toss it in with the tape.
I make sure to grab Javier’s knife, sheath, guns, and holster, since I also need to get rid of those.
I try not to look at his face when I turn him to strip him of his belongings, but I tell myself this is for his own good.
I run outside, finding the open grave plot and dropping the evidence inside. I grab a shovel that’s nearby and dump dirt on top of it before running back into the house.
Sirens blare as cops and ambulances come barreling down the street.
Red and blue lights illuminate the night sky as they get closer. Here we go.