WYATT
THIRTY-ONE
It had been a long night, and it was an even longer day after.
Sitting. Waiting. Unable to do anything.
But at least Nino woke up, and he felt well enough to call his people to take him back to New York, an operation that happened in no time right under our noses, but as soon as he was gone, I knew there was someone who had to be dealt with as a matter of urgency.
Wilson.
He had to pay for his latest sin. He had to know he wasn’t all powerful. He had to know he didn’t have the upper hand.
The morning after Nino was taken back to the safety of his crime family and their connections that meant he’d be well looked after by the best doctors money could buy, I drove all the way to the city center, parked in front of the town hall right in front of the no parking sign, and stormed inside.
The only ones that managed to block my path were the security guards stationed outside Wilson’s office.
“Have you got an appointment, pal?” one of them asked me, the shirt on his back so tight one could have outlined all the muscles and veins underneath. His jaw was square, and his temples pulsed threateningly as he glared back at me with his palm flat on my chest.
“He’ll want to see me,” I snapped at him.
“Book an appointment!” he growled and shoved me back.
Despite the force, I didn’t lose my balance. It would take a lot more than a little thug playing dress-up as a guard to get me off my feet, but I touched my shirt, made sure it wasn’t ripped or yanked, and stood my ground.
“And I said, I’m not going anywhere until he sees me. And trust me. He’ll want to see me after what he did.”
“Save it, grandpa. You’re not going through those doors,” said the second guy.
He was a bit taller but just as buff as his colleague, and he too looked like he wasn’t going to take any bullshit. Too bad neither was I.
I turned to look at his secretary, a young woman who looked terrified at what was happening for the second time in front of her, and I told her to call him.
“The mayor…he…he’s busy.”
I smirked, looking back at the two guards. “So your boss is a wuss, huh? Too afraid to speak to me after what he did. Well, I’m not going anywhere, Wilson!” I shouted so I’d be heard by the man behind the double doors. “Everyone will know what you did, big guy.”
The two guards exchanged a glance and then came at me, grabbing an arm each and attempting to carry me out, but I planted my feet to the ground and shouted even louder.
“Do your people know you’re a criminal? Or are you hiding it from all of them? Do they know how many people you’ve killed?”
“Shut the fuck up, grandpa,” said the tall guy.
I spat in his face. Before he could retaliate though, the doors opened, and Wilson stood in front of me in his most expensive suit, probably paid for with blood money.
“Hm. I thought that would get your attention,” I said.
He ignored me.
“Bring him in,” he said to the guards instead, and they changed their hold on me so they could follow their boss’s orders. This time, however, when I was thrown in the same room with the devil himself, they didn’t say outside. They stayed by my side as Wilson offered me a seat. I didn’t oblige him.
“You went back on your word. You said you wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”
Wilson raised an eyebrow and glanced at his men who yanked me upright and started patting me down. My smart watch was removed. So was my phone. They checked the rest of my pockets but all they found was my wallet and a pack of Wrigley’s gum.
I watched them like a hawk as they stripped everything off me that could be considered a recording device, and as one decided to go through my wallet and pocket my cash, the other put his hand in my patch pocket and removed a square Rode microphone Slade had hooked me up with.
“Seriously?” he said in disbelief.
Before I could say anything, he crushed the thing under his shoe, and they did the same thing with my phone and watch before the other guy gave me back my empty wallet and gum and took a step back.
I bit my tongue and tried to compose myself. I didn’t care about the plan. I wanted to kill this man with my bare hands. Now that was a murder I would gladly have on my record if it meant protecting the people I loved and this whole island.
“Your…gumption surprises me, Goodman. You’re the one who flipped on our agreement, and you have the nerve to come to me and accuse me of being a murderer?
Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought higher of you. Unless you thought that little thing,” he said and glanced at the floor and the broken devices, “would get through and catch me in the act. You’re either the dumbest person alive or you really have no regard for your life. ”
I scoffed. “So, what? You’re trying to tell me you didn’t try to murder that poor kid from New York? Hell, you killed his men.”
“I did no such thing. I have never killed anyone.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot. Your men do the dirty work for you so you have your hands clean. Was it Shorty or Stretchy?” I leaned my head back from side to side to indicate the guys behind me.
Wilson just smirked.
“Maybe you didn’t kill them. Maybe you’ve kept your hands clean all this time you’ve been secretly ruling the criminal underworld of Mayberry, but I’m sure that wasn’t the case when you were Ferraro’s right hand, right? You did his dirty work then, didn’t you?”
“What do you want, Wyatt? What are you trying to get at?”
I shook my head and laughed. “I thought it was obvious. I want you gone from my turf. I want you to stop hurting the people I love. But clearly you can’t.
Tell me, what made you change your name to Salieri and infiltrate a whole fucking mafia family?
Did you want to learn the trade secrets?
Or were you planning on stealing the money from the get-go?
Or was it an ego trip of some sort? Do you come from money, Wilson?
You must do with a name like that. So why?
Why turn to crime? Why build a criminal empire? ”
Wilson sighed and looked to the side. “I understand you are upset about what happened to your friend, but he had it coming, and it’s all your fault. You brought him here, you made a plan to bring me down, and it didn’t work, and now you’re looking to place the blame on anyone but yourself.”
A knot formed in my throat, and I struggled to swallow for a moment.
“So reckless. You say you care about these people you brought here, yet you play with their lives like they’re nothing.”
The knot returned tenfold, and instead of trying to fight it, I burst out at him.
“You motherfucker! Don’t you dare touch anyone again. I’m not afraid to expose you. I will go to the papers. I will speak to the police. I’ll do it all. You’re not that powerful. You’re not God.”
Wilson laughed. “The man accused of murder is going to cry wolf about the mayor? I’d love to see you try.”
“How do you know I haven’t done it already?”
His expression darkened. “You wouldn’t dare. You don’t know what you would unleash on your people.”
“If it brings you down, maybe it’s worth the cost.”
Wilson’s fists tightened. He seemed to be fighting himself not to lose his composure. His face twisted as if at war with itself.
“Then you don’t mind if I take out your right hand. Autumn, is it? I forget.”
I all but launched myself at him, grabbing him by the lapel and smashing his head on the desk. I smelled the blood that poured out of his nose as I was yanked away by the guards, and Wilson pressed his hand over his broken face.
“Take him. Take him away now! I’ve had enough of you, Goodman. Enough, you hear me?” He screamed an inhuman cry, and in record time, I was dragged outside, through corridors, past so many witnesses that would probably never utter a word about me, and shoved into a car.
The last thing I remembered was the car screeching into motion and a cloth placed over my nose and mouth, and the sweet chemical scent that sent me dizzy.
And Ari. His beautiful face formed in my head, smiling at me, kissing me, making love to me.
I had probably signed my death warrant. I might never see him again. There was no return after what I’d done. I just hoped I hadn’t screwed everything up.
If only so I could hold him one last time and tell him how much he meant to me and how much life his love had given me.
Because he loved me back. I knew that. And I loved him.
At least if everything failed, I would die knowing I wasn’t entirely unlovable.
That was something, I guess.