Spin (Songs of Corruption #1)(61)

Scott tried to spit on him, but gravity put the spit back on his face. Paulie leaned closer, in spit range, but Scott didn’t appear to have a drop of saliva left.

“You’re gonna take it out on someone, aren’t you?” Paulie asked.

Scott smiled through a bloody mouth.

“You sold him Katrina,” I whispered.

“Maybe. That’s up to you.”

He stepped back and let Scott and me look at each other. Worry and fear crept through my skin. Resist them though I might, I wasn’t calloused to this. I was a nice girl with a beach house and perfect grades.

“Well then, Mister Patalano, it looks like I’m going to have to figure something out.” I turned to leave, but Paulie held me back with a hand to my shoulder.

“I’m not done.”

“I disagree.”

“You can run to the DA. You can run to daddy. But I know your father better than you do, even if I never met him. Our families aren’t strangers, if you know what I mean. And the DA? Don’t get me started. Your girlfriend has a couple of family here in Orange County. A few friends. She disappears, it’s in the news this week, and next week London Westin’s worn-out pu**y’s in the papers.”

He reached in his jacket. He was going for his gun. I think my panic must have been visible then, because he held out his hand to calm me. He slowly pulled the firearm.

“I have a solution for you,” Paulie said. “You want to earn my trust? If you earn that, you and your girlfriend will be under my protection. This guy won’t touch either of you.” He handed me the gun.

Zo spoke up, “Paulie, whoa! The f**k?”

“Shut up, Zo.” It sat in the flat of his hand like an offering. “Take him out. Problem solved.”

Scott laughed, lightly at first. Maybe a smarter person than I am would have deduced another solution. Maybe a more naturally manipulative person would have stalled long enough to change the course of events. But I was empty. I took the gun. It was lighter than I expected. Easier to pick up. Maybe I thought it should weigh some more supernatural amount, equal to the death inside it.

“Take him out, and you’re going to solve all kinds of problems,” Paulie said.

“You’re nuts, you know that?”

“I’m hedging a bet. It’s a million to one you have the spine for it. And I gotta be honest, I want you out of the picture.”

“Paulie, come on,” Zo said.

“Shut the f**k up, Zo.” The man with the bow lips stood close to me, engaging in a staring contest I had no intention of losing.

“She can’t get made, no ways,” Zo pleaded.

I said softly, “This is a very risky proposition.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Shit.” Zo was freaking out. “Pauls, what if she misses and hits me?”

“Pick him up,” Paulie said without releasing me from his gaze. “Let her get a good shot.”

“I’m not killing anyone,” I said.

“My money’s on you not even pulling the trigger.”

“Does Antonio know about this little bet with yourself?”

As if in answer, Paulie’s phone buzzed. He ignored it. “He’s not here right now, is he? He’s busy taking out two perfectly good guys he alienated because of you. I’m here cleaning up this mess he made because of who? Yeah. You.”

Scott had stopped laughing, the blood on his lips crusting over. Paulie squeezed my hand with the gun in it. He looked at it, and I followed his gaze. The gun was hard and black with flat surfaces and squared edges. A cop gun, not a cowboy gun.

I slipped my finger in the metal loop around the trigger, cupping the handle in my palm. “You misread me, Mister Patalano. You think I’m some sheltered little girl who never had to fight for myself. But I’ve spent my whole life fighting for myself. Just not the way you think.”

“Prove it.” His phone buzzed again.

Was it Antonio? Could I stall long enough to get a bye in this little game?

“She can’t earn no bones anyway, Paulie, come on!” Zo was near hysteria.

“Aw, the little girl has a gun?” Scotty said.

I didn’t know what was wrong with him, why he didn’t just roll over or shut up. I didn’t know what had to happen to make him continue taunting his attackers until they killed him, but whatever it was, Scott Mabat was in self-destruct mode.

So I pointed the gun at him. “I could shoot you right now.”

“You don’t have the balls. My dogs will rip that girl in the middle.”

He didn’t threaten me. He’d never threatened me, only Kat. As if he thought that in self-preservation, I’d just let her get pulled into a basement by him and his cronies. And he’d leave me unharmed at the door. Paulie’s word must really mean something.

“I’m going to shoot you, Mister Mabat, unless you allow a prepayment and keep your hands off Katrina,” I said.

“You’re not shooting anyone.”

“Keep making me angry.”

“I bet she tastes like soy sauce when she cries.”

My hand tightened to the point of no return. I pulled the trigger. Tight. Tighter, until the tension in the thing released, and the trigger bounced back.

Nothing happened.