The Fall(8)

“She wasn’t on drugs, or a slut. Quite the opposite actually. She was young though and not from around here.” He leaned forward in his chair, baiting me.

“Still don’t give a f*ck.” I answered with no more interest than when we’d first started talking. “We agreeing on the price or what?”

“Fine, two hundred.” He consented with a complete lack of surprise, his initial offer obviously being a low-ball opener he’d expected me to counter. “And I’ll give you this as well.” He slid the envelope across the desk.

“Unless they are the details of where your daughter is and an accompanying photo, I’m not interested.” My hands repelled, the contents and the information no longer needed in my life.

“I really thought you were smarter, Michael.” Jimmy eyed me up and down. “You should never turn down information, especially when it’s about you. You never know when you are going to need it.”

It was exactly the sort of rhetoric that would make most men flinch, the handshake with one hand while a knife hovered at your neck with the other. But I didn’t play in anyone else’s sandbox, so they didn’t get to make up the rules. And what I knew or needed to know was on the list of shit no one else got a say in.

“I’m not here for a pep talk, and considering what you are asking me to do, you might want to keep your unsolicited advice to yourself.” My voice didn’t waver; neither did the eyeball I’d shot him across his desk, which I hoped got my point across. He might own the town, but I didn’t come with that bill of sale. My attitude frowned upon as his hired guns twitched at my side.

“Easy boys, Michael just forgot his manners.” Jimmy smiled; his narrow lips uncovered a row of yellowed and crooked teeth. The years hadn’t been kind and Amaro wouldn’t be winning any awards for being good looking. I shuddered to think what his kid would look like. His three boys had been sent off years ago, earning their stripes on Wall Street or some shit, so I had no point of reference. And the thought of a female Jimmy was enough to turn me off sex for a while.

“Yeah, whatever. Details?” The sooner I got out of here and gone, the better for everyone, including the emphysemic * seated across from me.

“Details are here.” He pulled out another envelope from a locked drawer and rested it on the first I’d refused to take. He really was pushing the issue.

“Thanks.” I reached across the desk and retrieved the envelope sitting on top. The beefed-up heavies flinched, making sure my hands didn’t breach an undisclosed and invisible line. Their eyes followed my hands as I moved them back into the safety of my own personal space.

They were edgy and trigger-happy but that was typical of Jimmy’s men, and while I understood the paranoia, I could only handle it in small doses.

“Cash.” I stood up and shoved the envelope under my arm. “The regular account.” I didn’t bother with the extended goodbye, a tip of my chin the only see you later Jimmy was getting.

There were few men he would have tolerated leaving before being dismissed, but we’d already established I wasn’t one of his lap dogs. He may not like my lack of etiquette, but in my time I’d earned some concessions. Leaving without being waved off was one of them. Besides, his daughter was in the wind like a sitting duck, and the sooner I got to her, the less chance she’d end up in tomorrow’s obituaries.

“As you wish.” Jimmy nodded as he watched me turn around. “I’ll let you know if things change.”

“Agreed,” I called back over my shoulder, my exit being shadowed by the two dudes who’d been standing by the door. My escort out, the one point Jimmy wasn’t willing to bend.

“Good luck.” Sal’s mouth spread into a grin; our journey coming to an end as we reached the populated part of the bar. “You’re gonna need it.”

It was hard to tell where Sal sat on the welfare of Jimmy’s kid. It wouldn’t surprise me if he wasn’t secretly hoping she’d end up in a box. The things she probably knew, it would make all their lives easier. Regardless of whether the words were sincere, he wasn’t calling the shots. And if daddy dearest wanted to pay me to keep her safe, then chances of her ending up in a dumpster were diminished.

I’d never failed to deliver and I wasn’t about to start now.

“I don’t believe in luck.”





The reason why I was so good at what I did was because I was smart about it. There was no smash-and-grab. I went in clean, always knowing my exit route and always with a f*cking plan. Of course I’d never had to grab a cop before and hoped some lowlife wasn’t hiding in the bushes ready to put a bullet in her head. Or mine. Lowlifes rarely cared about collateral damage and my newfound assignment put a target on my back.

Sofia Amaro had not only turned her back on her family, but also their money it seemed. While her big bros were living large in NYC, she had definitely gotten the short straw.

The modest bungalow downtown she was occupying belonged to someone else, the rental agreement rubber stamped and legit. Her home security was also laughable. Her ADT system requiring nothing more than a few well-placed cuts in wires and it would give anyone access to her house and by virtue, her. All of it genuinely surprised me; I expected more for someone who shared Jimmy’s DNA.

I should have asked for more money.