Chapter 36 Everett
God’s Gonna Cut You Down, Johnny Cash
The harsh wood cuts into my back as I watch the leader of the Italiano mafioso, Mr. Sabini, enter the cottage with his burly men. His nine-lives son, Michael limps after him.
You know that fucker should thank us for not killing him.
This is the meeting we have been waiting for.
Extensively planning for months.
Mr. Sabini gives a small smile.
A smile, for fuck’s sake. After all the carnage.
All the destruction.
Then he pulls a chair out from under the table. The sound of scratching wood pierces my ears. The tension palpable, as I feel Marcus square up from the corner of the room. I only brought a handle of men but we have a back up plan and if all else fails we are gearing up for a fight.
We sit in a neutral zone, outside of Lockham city, in my mother’s old abandoned cottage. The one he gifted her.
“So, you and my mother?” I ask Mr. Sabini as he sits down. His fingers interlace with one another atop the rickety dining room table.
“Yes,” he states, pursing his lips together.
“Did you love her?” I ask plainly, assessing his facial features.
Michael snorts as he crosses his arms and leans back against the wall.
Mr. Sabini glares up at Michael. “Have some respect for the deceased.” Then he peers back at me, a solemn look in his gaze.
“I thought I did. I made some mistakes, many mistakes. But once I realized how crazy, how narcissistic your mother was, I knew I needed to bow out. The extent she would go to betray her own family was terrifying. I didn’t realize she would lead to her own demise.
Then to murder those poor women… Gruesome. So gruesome.”
“She deserved to die,” Michael Sabini states coldly from the corner of the room, his voice coming closer as he begins walking to the table.
“She deserved to die as much as your brother did,” I state.
Then a flurry of events occurs. Michael Sabini pulls a gun out and aims it at the back of my head. The cold metal barrel is flush against my skull.
Mr. Sabini glares at his son, partially standing from his chair. “Don’t fuck this up for us.”
Michael snorts. “You have let them run us around too goddamned much, Father! If anything, I should kill you both right here, and then I could win. I could take over!” he sneers.
His father sits back in his chair and rolls his fingers on the table.
“You wouldn’t understand half the shit I do to keep this business alive.
To keep this fucking family alive!” he yells, emphasizing his words with his fingers pinched together in the air.
“For example, you had no idea the Germans were in town. Krauts were making it look like we were stealing from them, to sabotage our partnership. But no! You were too busy thinking you were mister big and bad, running around shooting, fucking and being a damned moron with your brother. You know it was a fucking blessing they killed Giorgio, because your mother would have never forgiven me if I did it myself!”
Michael’s eyes widen as he opens his mouth to speak, the gun still pointed at the back of my head.
“No! Silencio, you fucking talking sperm!” Mr. Sabini hollers. Then the men begin ranting at one another in Italian.
I clear my throat. “Can you settle your family quarrel in my absence?” I ask.
Michael abruptly pushes the cold metal barrel into the back of my head again. “I’m in fucking charge. I have a gun to your head!” he snarls.
I begin to laugh, for the first time in a long time. I clutch my stomach and let the ludicrous sound flow from me. This must be how Bobby felt before he realized Tilly was still alive.
Opening my eyes, I find Mr. Sabini, hand over his face, with a puzzled look behind his fingers.
“What the fuck is so funny!?” Michael belts out.
“The fact you think you’re in control. It’s adorable.
I’ve always been two steps ahead bellend.
” I bend my head back to awkwardly and sinisterly look up at Michael as I simultaneously reach back, grabbing the barrel of the gun.
“Do it,” I boldly state. “Do it. I have tunnels that reach all the way under this house. Mines are rigged to blow and it will kill every single one of us.”
“You’re fucking bluffing,” Michael states as I stare coldly at him.
“Marcus. Give the signal for small area, say grid B2. It is far enough,” I order as Marcus grunts angrily, then waves the signal within the window.
Mr. Sabini’s face turns red. “You dirty bastard. This is neutral ground!” I lift my head back to glare at him. His hands outstretched, his blood pressure visibly rising behind his facial features.
“Your son has a gun to the back of my head.” As I state that, an area in the far corner of the woods explodes, shaking the floor of the old home.
“Put the fucking gun away, Michael!” Mr. Sabini shouts.
Michael grunts, looking around at everyone in the room. “You’d kill all of us, including your own men!? ”
I don’t have to say a word.
My men speak up in unison: “Death before dishonor.” Panic flashes over Michael’s face as the gun shakes in his hand. As he looks around at everyone, Mr. Sabini makes a hand gesture, causing one of his henchmen to tackle Michael.
The pistol fires and a bullet hole appears in the far wall.
Right next to Mr. Sabini’s head. He exhales. “All right. We stay in our territory and only share dealings regarding liquor and cocaine distribution. How does that sound?”
I glare at him. “We can start with liquor, then reconvene next month and see how relations are going. After that we can ease back into normal business dealings,” I state.
Mr. Sabini grimaces as he shakes his head. “Understandable. Next month.”
We stand to shake hands, the chairs scratching across the old wooden floorboards.
It feels like a boulder has been lifted from my shoulders.
As the Italian mob exits the house Mr. Sabini turns back one last time and asks, “What are you going to do about your Kraut of a wife? Kill her?” he asks with a sardonic smile and upturned eyebrow.
Showing he is still a pompous ass.
I give him no answer and watch them leave.
Pondering how I am going to deal with Brielle.