LEO
I wake up knowing what happened. Someone drugged me. That’s the only reason I can think of for why I’m opening my eyes to find myself laid on my back in the middle of the floor. I try to move, but they have bound my wrists as tight as possible.
Zip ties. Good. Easier to get out of than rope if you know what you’re doing. My ankles are bound too. I’m laid on my side and all I can see is a pair of shoes walking toward me. I look up and it’s Molly.
“Enjoy the coffee?” she asks. The smile is gone from her face. What’s there is an emptiness I know all too well. It’s the emptiness of the sociopath. There’s nothing I can do to reason with her.
There’s nothing I can do to get her to untie me. Yelling will only make her happy. Begging will get her laughing. Not that I’m the type to beg.
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to twist my wrists to see just how strong the zip ties are. The answer is very. As of right now, I’m fucked. Seriously fucked.
On the plus side, there’s no weapon in her hand. On the downside, there is no sign of my gun either. It’s a comforting presence under my jacket. Knowing I can reach for it and end a life whenever I choose helps me relax. Now I feel like I’m missing a limb.
“It’s excellent coffee,” she continues like I haven’t spoken, crossing to the sofa and sitting down. As she passes me, she launches a kick at my face.
I move to avoid the full strength, but it’s still enough to open a line from my chin to my nose. Blood pools underneath me. The sting wakes me up properly, the last of the dope leaving my system. “Really knocks you out,
but not for too long. I’d hate for you to sleep through the fire.”
“Where’s Amelia?”
“Oh, isn’t that touching? I mention fire. I mention doping you up so you sleep while I get my chicks in a row. You’re tied up with no way of getting loose and you’re asking about Amelia.” She points down at me. “If you ask me, I reckon you’re still sweet on her.”
“Where is she?”
“Somewhere safe. Unlike you.”
“What have you done with her?”
“Me? I haven’t done anything to her. She’s my best friend, Leo, remember. You, on the other hand, got her all riled up. Got her pissed at you. Don’t cry over it, I doubt you could have made things work.
“You being a fucking shit hitman and her being so dumb she couldn’t even tell I was the snitch. Shit hitman. Shitman. That can be your name from now on. You’re the shitman. Too shit to die at the lighthouse. Too shit to run when I dragged Cam’s body out. Too shit to just fuck the fuck off. Couldn’t leave the chip, could you? Had to steal it and start all this bullshit. As if we wouldn’t fight back.”
I say nothing. She’s getting worked up. When people get worked up, it’s best to let them vent. That way they end up giving away more than they want to. If I’m lucky, she’ll tell me where Amelia is. That’ll just leave me needing to get out of these bonds and out of Molly’s house.
She’s still talking. “Didn’t think a woman could do this kind of shit, did you? Bet you never guessed who my pop was. You know how you mafia types have all your traditional families and rules and blah, blah, blah. Well, how come the Dons always keep fucking around?”
“You,” I say, putting the pieces together in my head. “You’re Belucci’s bastard daughter, aren’t you?”
“Give that man a prize. Ding, ding, ding. You finally worked it out. I’ve been here waiting for my chance to prove myself to him all my life and it finally comes along, waltzes right into my house out of nowhere. I never told you to come here, Leo. You walked into my world. You fucked Bobby up the ass with all that bullshit and take over our casino.
“You think you can take over our world? Our town? You are a dumb fuck asshole, Leo. Now, I’m going to make you an offer and there’s no negotiation. Either yes or no. So simple, even you can understand it.
“You give me the chip and I let Amelia walk away. She can go back to her old life, no harm, no foul. Yes or no? What do you say? Tell you what, I’ll even give you a couple of minutes to think it over.”
She gets up and walks out of the room. I already know my answer. She really thinks I’m dumb if she thinks I believe her. She’s Monica Belucci.
The one they never talk about. The one they pretend vanished when she was a baby. Maybe this is her way of getting back in favor with Don Belucci, her pop.
He didn’t keep her too far away, though. Put her here where his casino’s running. Maybe he’s been monitoring her all her life. It’d make sense. That way he can turn to her when he finds out the chip’s gone missing.
Get her to raise the stakes. Did she get in touch with Franco or was it the other way around? Who cares. I have more important things to think about right now.
Like the chip.
She knows about the chip, but she clearly doesn’t know where it is, else she wouldn’t even make this offer. There’s no way she’ll let Amelia go. No loose ends. She knows too much about her best friend.
Whether I say yes or no, Amelia dies. The only shot I’ve really got is making her think I don’t care about her. That way she might let something slip I can use.
“This was your thing, wasn’t it?” she says, walking back in holding two playing cards. “No, don’t get up.” She holds the two playing cards in front of my face. “What’s it to be? Yes or no.” “Fuck you,” I tell her.
She lashes out with another kick, this time to my stomach. I absorb the blow without grunting, and that seems to piss her off royally.
“You fucked things up,” she says, her voice getting louder. “Fucked everything up. It was all going fine until you had to try to get above yourself, didn’t you?” I say nothing.
“Yes or no, last chance.”
“Kill her. I don’t give a fuck about her.”
“Then all that’s left is to pick a card. Left or right?”
“Fuck you.”
“Defiant to the end. I’ll pick for you, shall I?” She turns one card around to face me. The ace. “Bye, bye,” she says. “Short circuit in the kitchen. Microwave ready to blow. I’d love to watch you burn to death, but I’ve got places to be and women to ship to brothels. The boat’s due in an hour and I’ve lots to do before then.
“Don’t worry. I will get Amelia the worst possible place, somewhere they make it hurt real bad every single time.” She leans down and smears the blood from my cut all over my face. “And I’ve got Franco’s books right here in my pocket, ready to give to the Feds. Should have given me the chip, Leo. Anyway, enjoy getting crispy. Toodles. Oh, and for the record, you look nothing like Keanu Reeves.”
“Monica,” I say as she walks out of the room.
She turns back, frowning. “It’s Molly now.”
“I’m going to kill you, Monica.”
“Good luck with that.”
Then she’s gone. I can hear the microwave humming in the kitchen. There’s a ping and then a boom. Smoke and dust billow through, a darkening cloud that spreads quickly, licking along the walls with flames following like a dog after a rabbit.
I’ve probably got sixty seconds until I breathe in too much of the smoke. Two minutes, tops. It’s up near the ceiling now and I’m on the floor so that might make the difference.
Unless I can get up and out of the house, the smoke will be the least of my worries. Already flames are consuming the couch and eating at the edges of the carpet.
I tense up every muscle in my ankles and wrists. Then, at the same moment, I yank my limbs outward. Nothing. They’re too tightly bound.
Never mind. Think of something else.
There’s an idea in my head somewhere, but I can’t reach it. All I can think is Amelia is out there and I need to get to her. I need to save her.
It doesn’t take a genius to know where she’s going. It’s a coastal town without an airport. She’s going on a boat, probably a shipping container to be hidden out of sight.
A bribe to the right official and she won’t be noticed at the other end. I’m guessing Eastern Europe or South America, somewhere with lax trafficking laws and no extradition treaty.
I knew the Beluccis were into trafficking, so this fits. She’s just one more number on a balance sheet. By the morning Monica will be gone and so will Amelia. I’ll be dead by then if the idea doesn’t come to me.
Heat is growing around me. I’m shuffling toward the door, but there’s a wall of flame in the way. No way out through there. I watch as the couch starts dripping. Nothing natural about it. Artificial fibers. Artificial.
Then it comes to me. The zip ties are artificial too. They’ll melt.
I twist my body so my hands are pointing toward the flames. The heat is agony, but I don’t shy away. I thrust my wrists straight into the fire. I let out a yell as the smell of burning flesh joins the stink of the fire. The zip ties melt at once and my hands are free. I roll away.
My flesh is scorched, but I can deal with that later. It’s not too bad. I can still get my fingers into the bonds at my ankles, shoving them downward. I can’t get them off and I don’t want to put my feet in the fire. I need something sharp.
I roll the other way, pulling open cabinet drawers until I find a pair of scissors. I slice through the zip ties in a second and then I’m on my feet, shoving the scissors into my pocket. Better than no weapon at all.
There’s a blanket on the armchair. I wrap it around me and make a run for it. I burst through the wall of flames, the blanket setting ablaze. On the far side, I see the back door. I run that way, tossing the blanket aside before the fire gets to my suit.
I kick the door as I approach. It crashes open and then I’m outside. I don’t stop moving. I get to the bushes in the corner of the garden and sink to my knees, looking out to see if anyone is watching for me. No one.
That’s the Belucci problem. They never cover all the bases. Too cocky. That’s how we got the casino and how we’re going to bury them for good. Fuck the commission. After this, the chip goes wide.
There’s a pond nearby, but I don’t want to wash my hands in there. Too much bacteria. What I need is an antiseptic. I clamber over the fence to the next property. The back door there is unlocked. What is it with this town?
I walk in quietly and get to the bathroom without making a sound. No cabinet. Back downstairs, I find vodka in the kitchen. It’ll do. I take it outside and then pour it over my hands. It stings real bad, but at least I can function. I only need them to work for a little while longer.
I take stock.
Molly was the snitch. It makes more and more sense when I think about it. She kept disappearing from her house and her job, popping up at the most convenient moments. Just goes to show you can never trust women.
I think about calling the Don, but there’s no way he could get enough people here in time. She’d be long gone by then. If he even cared. All that matters to him is the chip, and that’s safely hidden in the casino. That and the snitch and I’m about to deal with her. No one else can help. It’s just me. Time to go do some killing.