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  I furrowed my brow. “Come again?”

  She thrust the gun closer to my face. “Did I stutter? Take off your clothes. You got anything in your pockets?”

  I shook my head, but then remembered. “Mints. Oh, and a cellphone.”

  She waved her free hand dismissively. “Whatever. Have a couple mints if you want, but throw me your pants with the phone still in the pocket.”

  I unbuckled my jeans and slid them off, over my shoes. I straightened, wearing just briefs, socks, and shoes, my lingering excitement at the thought of a late night tryst with a strange woman now peeking out and over my underwear’s elastic band.

  Missy’s gaze hung at my waist for a few moments.

  Though nervous, I managed to inject some confidence in my tone. “We still have time.”

  This caused a raucous fit of barking laughter that didn’t help my confidence one bit.

  Missy pointed her gun at my feet. “Take off the shoes, leave the socks on if you want, and your undies need to go as well. Can you climb?”

  Once again confused by her question, I knelt down to untie my shoes and asked, “What on earth will I be climbing?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Where do you want to be found? I’m bored with benches and closets and all the usual places. Let’s get creative tonight.”

  I peered around the park, hoping to find an escape or something I could brandish as a weapon to defend myself. But besides the tools in the shed, there were only dead leaves and the occasional bit of litter. I considered booking it, but if the mob hired her, it was safe to assume she would have no problem gunning me down.

  “Delvin, we don’t have all night. Get those God-damned shoes off already.”

  I removed them and stood. Without prompting, I removed my underwear as well. The crisp breeze actually felt good against the burning inside.

  Missy stepped forward and circled me. “So, what did you do anyway, Delvin?”

  “Small talk, seriously?”

  A cold leather glove grabbed my ballsack and twisted. “Okay, have it your way. By now, most of my marks are blubbering idiots, begging for mercy, so I admit, I’m curious to see if your pride swells as big as your balls.”

  She let go and once again circled behind me. “How much do you weigh?”

  “Two-twenty, why?”

  She cocked her gun and placed it against the back of my head. “Because I can probably just shoot you right here and then stage you up on top of the gazebo or the monkey bars or wherever after you’re dead.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to shoot me? I thought I was to be tortured so I could be made an example of?”

  This time Missy’s gloved hand reached from behind me, caressed my lower belly, and worked its way up to my pecs. She gave the left one a solid smack. Then her hand retreated back and down until she was able to squeeze my butt cheek.

  After a few moments, she stopped and said, “Well, your voice has a slight tremble, but you’re not shaking enough to betray all-out panic or fear. You see, some people crave power, some desire love or money or material possessions, but I get off on the screams of pure terror and the helplessness shining in my victims’ eyes. You’re scared, yes. And you don’t want to die, but when I touch you, I sense you’re enjoying it.”

  She giggled. “I don’t want to think that I had something to do with you feeling any sort of pleasure, so no, for you it’ll be a simple bullet through the brain. Who knows, though? After you’re dead, if that little stiffie sticks around, maybe I’ll have some fun.”

  “You need help.”

  Once again Missy buried the gun into the back of my head. “And now’s your last chance to scream for some help of your own.”

  She paused, but I forced myself to stay quiet. There was no way I’d let her win now. I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut, not ready, but with hope draining fast.

  Stalling, I asked, “What if someone walks into the park by accident and catches us?

  Missy chuckled. “I’ve got plenty of bullets.”

  “I’ve been in the game a long time. I’m surprised I haven’t heard of you before.”

  “Don’t worry, now that we’ve met, you’ll never forget me,” she said, but then fell silent.

  Just before I glanced back to see what had her attention, Missy asked, “Was your ankle brace blinking red before?”

  Keeping my voice even, I said, “Yes, the damn thing keeps me up all night if it’s too warm for a blan—”

  “You liar,” Missy hissed. She raised her gun.

  Three quick squeezes of a trigger later, all of my composure flashed away as I screamed in horror. I curled my arms around my head as if they could shield me from the bullets. But somehow, I wasn’t dead. Missy grunted in surprise and crumpled to the ground. Thank God, the cavalry had arrived.

  As Missy’s screams echoed into the trees I felt her gloved hand grab my right ankle and pull. I pitched forward, just able to slow my fall before crashing to the ground. I tried crawling away, but she tightened her already strong grip.

  She groaned, “You coward.”

  One last gurgling gasp of blood bubbles escaped from her mouth. Her eyes glazed over as her trembling lips stilled.

  Standing to put my underwear back on, I called to my savior approaching from the shadows. “It took you long enough. I assumed as soon as I removed the disruptor from my ankle tracker that all of you agents would come rushing in.”

  Hadley strolled into the light, pointing his still-smoking gun in my direction. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

  My stomach turned. I stumbled back, tripping over Missy’s body in the process.

  Hadley chuckled. “Pathetic.”

  I regained my footing, scanning the area for escape routes, again.

  Stepping over Missy, Hadley glanced down at her and sneered. “I suppose I should thank you for starting off my freelance career with a roaring start. Not only will I collect your reward, but I’ll pad my pockets with the bounty on her head as well.”

  Knowing my grave was dug, I decided to try to protect my fake wife from this monster, if it wasn’t too late. “Don’t you dare think about harming Betty.”

  Caught off guard, agent Hadley grinned. “What do you care? You don’t even know her real name.”

  Part in anger and part in hopes of drawing attention, I screamed, “She trusted you. She opened herself up and you repay her vulnerability by ratting us out?”

  Hadley waved his free hand dismissively. “Allison’s so desperate for attention and more dope that she’d sell out her own children, if it got her back in the good graces of the Rodeani family.”

  “Betty…err, Allison wouldn’t go back to that life.”

  “Don’t believe me? I don’t care. I’m going to put a bullet in your head and then grab your wife on the way out of town. Now go stand with your back against the tree over there.”

  I stood my ground. “So, after all this you’re just going to kill her?”

  “Nope, I’m just going to kill you. The Rodeanis don’t really care about her at all. They’ll get her back to the harem and keep her so high, she won’t know which way faces up.” Hadley raised his gun and pointed in the vicinity of my forehead. “Now, let’s get this done. At some point—”

  He cut off his train of thought as something over my shoulder caught his attention. “Well fuck me running, this is my night.”

  I turned to see what had distracted him. Standing half-hidden in the shadows of my tool shed, Allison held a butcher knife.

  I coughed. “Uh, hey toots.”

  Allison took an arcing, roundabout path toward us. When she had a clear view of Hadley and myself pinned with my back against a tree, she raised her knife. “What the hell did I miss?”

  Her questioning gaze darted back and forth between the former agent and myself. She mouthed, “Are you okay?” to me.

  I shook my head.

  Seeing the question and my response, Hadley said, “Oh, come on, y
our hubby’s fine. He and I were just having a moment in the park.”

  While the two of them distracted each other, I located Missy’s gun, which had fallen just a few feet from her cooling body. If I saw an opportunity, I decided I’d beeline for the gun, start shooting, and ask questions later.

  Allison addressed me again. “Delvin, I never meant to sell you, well, us out. I just thought he…”

  Her attention shifted back to Hadley as she trailed off.

  I took what was most likely my last chance to clear Allison of guilt. “Don’t waste your breath on this guy, Allison. I’m just sorry I didn’t give you an opportunity to speak your mind earlier. I should’ve been there for you.”

  Allison’s cheeks were tear-stained. “They’re dead, all the agents. I went out to tell them you’d gone, and—” She raised her knife-wielding fist up to her face, fighting back more tears. “I thought, at first, maybe you had killed them, but as I checked for any sign of life, a red dot and a sharp chirp rang out. I saw the blip on their map and followed it here.”

  Great, now not only had I gotten myself killed, my trickery might’ve dragged Allison into all this. “We make one hell of a—”

  Hadley cocked his gun. “All right, enough of this shit.”

  “Wait.” Allison’s earnest plea stopped agent Hadley in his tracks. “Even with your silencer on, I heard your gun discharge outside of the park. Why not shoot him in the shed, to muffle the noise further?”

  My heart skipped about a dozen beats as I watched Hadley decide if he agreed with her. After a few moments, he peered around the park and said, “Hell, you’re probably right. I’ll do him in there if you drop that damn knife.”

  She regarded the knife in her hands for a few moments before tossing it. The knife hit the grass and flipped over once before coming to a rest.

  Betty faced Hadley. “Well, Clayton, you can return me back to those evil sadistic Rodeani twins, but they’ll never get me to go back to living the way I did before.”

  Hadley shrugged. “I don’t care what you or they do. I just want the money.” He pointed the gun at me again. “Move it. Your wife just decided you should die with your gardening tools.”

  I peered at the knife and then back toward the gun lying by Missy, but neither was within reach.

  Hadley pushed me forward. “Forget about it. You go for that knife, I could gun you down with my eyes closed.”

  Allison said, “Just remember my dad’s mantra, Delvin.”

  “I don’t see how ‘live and let live’ helps in this situation.”

  The confused look on my face was enough to garner a chuckle from Hadley. “You two certainly communicate like a couple.” He grabbed Allison’s upper arm. “Come along with us, sweetheart. Maybe you deserve to die like a couple as well.”

  Allison struggled against his grip. “But you said the Rodeanis want me back. What gives?”

  Hadley let go of Allison just long enough to smack her across the face. It looked brutal. The coward didn’t hold back at all. To her credit, Allison stumbled backward but didn’t lose her footing. When she raised her face back up, her cheek was beet red.

  She held out her fists and assumed a fighting stance. “Try that again.”

  Hadley pointed his gun and his attention at Allison. Using the distraction, I peered around the corner of the tool shed and found that Allison had propped a long-handled pair of trimming shears against the wall, just out of Hadley’s sight.

  I thought about Allison’s fake dad telling me to “Always be prepared,” and I grabbed the shears.

  Hadley pistol-whipped Betty as I approached. She rolled around, groaning in pain, and I realized she must’ve been overacting to keep Hadley’s attention.

  Without hesitating, I stepped forward and swung the shears at Hadley’s head. He grunted and toppled sideways. I followed close behind and swung at the back of his knee this time. The blow had enough force to bring Hadley down to the ground.

  Behind me, Allison shouted, “No, no, wait.” But I knew if I held back now, Hadley would recollect himself. I kicked Hadley right where I assumed a kidney would be.

  His cry of agony confirmed my suspicions.

  Breathing heavily, I said, “Maybe if we trim off a few fingers, you’ll give up.”

  Just before I closed the shears, Hadley flipped around, revealing he still possessed his gun. He took a shot and my shoulder exploded. I dropped the shears, grabbing at the wound with my good arm.

  “Dumb move,” Hadley said, standing. “Never hesitate to finish an opponent when—”

  Click.

  Hadley and I both followed the noise and found Allison brandishing a gun. She hadn’t loaded a bullet into the chamber.

  “Amateurs,” Hadley said, raising his gun.

  I thrust myself into Hadley, pushing him backward. His shot fired wildly, hitting the dirt at Allison’s feet.

  She jumped back and ducked behind a tree. I picked up my shears one-handed, and swung upward under Hadley’s jaw. The blow stunned him enough that he dropped his gun.

  I kicked it a few feet away. “Allison, he’s unarmed. Do you know how to load that thing?”

  She came back out from the tree, cocking her gun for both of us to see. “Go ahead, Delvin. Chop off a few of his fingers.”

  Hadley, still dazed and unsure where his gun ended up, lunged at me. He never made it. I stuck the shears out and let him land right on them.

  The former agent’s belly caved inward. He let out a surprised gasp as he flailed his arms.

  A fresh pain exploded in my shoulder under Hadley’s impact against the shears I was holding. He fell off me, shaking a few times before going limp.

  Allison asked, “You all right?”

  I winced. “Having just escaped death, twice, I’m on top of the world. That was a great plan, hiding the shears and referencing your fake dad.”

  Allison held up her gun. “No, I was letting you know I had your gun. Why on earth did you mess around with that trimmer?”

  Dumfounded, I tried to explain. “But you always—”

  Police sirens rang out in the distance. I surveyed the typically quiet city and noticed just about every house within view had lights coming on. I’d bet they had all bombarded the police station with panicked calls.

  Allison and I walked to each other. I wrapped my good arm around her shoulders. “‘Bout time we ditch this town.”

  She nodded, removed the clip of her gun, and stuffed the unloaded .22 into the waistband of her jeans.

  I pointed back toward our house. “Do you want to wait for the Feds?”

  “No,” she answered sharply, pulling me toward the back exit from the park. “I’ve had enough of all this. Come on.”

  “Where to, toots?”

  Allison squeezed her arm around my back. “Oh, honey, let’s finally take that honeymoon we always dreamed about.”

  As absurd as it sounds, when I answered, “Yeah, I think you’ve earned it,” I felt all lightheaded and mushy, the way you hear about love feeling as a kid. Now, maybe it was blood loss from my shoulder mixed with complete exhaustion after having survived the last hour, but to be honest, Allison’s a pretty damn attractive chick who, I might add, just saved my life.

  Allison escorted me back to my clothes.

  As we exited the park, I dialed my phone.

  “Who you calling?”

  “I have a hunch about a few games on football Sunday. If I can get in touch with the right people, we can earn a few bucks to get by until we decide where to go. You ever been to Reno?”

  She shook her head. “Hell, with my overprotective dad, who didn’t make a lot from the military, I’ve only left the state a couple of times.”

  I groaned. “Okay, okay, no more cover stories, no more FBI bullshit. Betty is dead. Frank is dead. Let’s just be us.”

  Allison nodded.

  Reflecting on the night’s events, I realized that I needed to change my lifestyle. No more damn guns, no more agents, and above all,
I decided that when I looked back on my life, I wanted me hooking up with Allison to stand as the last relationship of mine that started with a late night bang.

  The End

  About the Author

  Though not a member of the mafia, Douglas Esper’s family is a character-filled mob. Writer, blogger, musician, producer, and scotch drinker, Douglas always has something to do. His recent publishing credits include a novel, A Life of Inches (Limitless Publishing), a short story, My Wife’s Favorite (Scout Media), an essay, It’s Just a Bag of Peanuts (AHTI publishing), and a collection of songs with the band Indoria titled, There’s a Gleam (Approaching Storm records). Douglas is currently ghostwriting a book with rock vocalist Chuck Mosley and editing the suspense/thriller, In the Watershed.

  Website:

  www.douglasesper.com

  Twitter:

  twitter.com/douglasesper

  Facebook:

  facebook.com/douglasesperauthor

  Drago

  E.J. Fechenda

  A New Mafia Trilogy Novella

  Victor

  The vibrations of the tattoo gun in my hand and its familiar buzzing were second nature to me. Occasionally stopping to wipe away blood, I glanced down at my client. His eyes were fixed on the flames coming to life on his chest. A phoenix emerging from fire is what he wanted, so after a few sketches, he approved the design that was becoming permanently stamped on his now hairless chest. We had scheduled three hours for his first session, and time was almost up. I got to a stopping point and put A&D ointment on the raw skin before securing a large bandage over it. Standing up, my client stretched and handed me six hundred dollars in cash.

  “My attorney charges less per hour,” he said with a smile. “But at least with you I know I’m getting my money’s worth.”

  I laughed and handed him a tube of ointment plus aftercare instructions. “Same time next week?”

  “Yeah. I’m still in between shoots so that’ll work.”