He’d been getting more and more careless. Smoking while dealing and doing crew work for Nova. Taking more pills without the excuse of Mary. Lots of things he would’ve never considered before the fight.
But Lost Boys had to survive somehow, and the paper insert that came in the bag the pharmacist handed him with a knowing look of disappointment said the pills good ol’ Dr. Acciai prescribed led to a false sense of well-being.
That always seemed more like a perk than a side effect.
Sign Tino up for more of that.
It wasn’t until he heard Rosie screaming from the other bedroom that Tino understood what a false sense of well-being really meant. By the time he ran out there, it was too late. Her husband already had a gun shoved in her mouth.
Tino’s breath caught.
For all the crew work, he’d never killed anyone.
And he’d never seen anyone killed until that motherfucker pulled the trigger and killed his wife.
Just like that.
Blood and brains all over the white carpet.
Rosie was never making another cup of coffee for a man in the shower.
She wasn’t perfect, but she certainly didn’t deserve that.
There was something about how quick it was that stunned Tino silent. He remembered how difficult it was for him to die in the basement. How fucking hard he tried and how Nova forced him back after all that work.
Tino didn’t see the other guys with Lorenzo Campelli. Tino just looked at Lorenzo’s wife instead, sprawled out on the carpet, dead for fucking a whore when she was supposed to be loyal to this motherfucker instead.
No wonder Mary made so much off Tino.
This system sucked, and it was especially cruel to women.
All any of them wanted was a little kindness, even if it was paid for.
“Get on your knees, motherfucker.” Lorenzo pointed his gun at Tino’s chest and then seemed to think better of it and pointed lower, since Tino was still naked.
Tino dropped to his knees, because his gun was downstairs thanks to the false sense of well-being from the oxys. He kept staring at Rosie, wondering if that was going to be him in the next thirty seconds.
The thing was, Tino wasn’t that pissed off about it.
He could think of a lot of worse ways to go.
He could run. He could maybe even fight them, but he didn’t, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the three oxys he ate before he got here that left him just not giving a shit about survival.
“That’s Nova Moretti’s brother. I recognize him,” one of the other guys cut in, sounding very nervous. “You can’t kill this kid, Lorenzo.”
“He fucked my wife. I can kill him if I want.” Lorenzo Campelli’s hand was shaking. “I’m sick of these fucking Morettis getting everything. I can kill this little shit. I’m a made man. No one touches what’s mine.”
“Just take it to the commission. They’ll probably agree with you.” His friend’s voice shook as badly as Lorenzo’s hand. “But you gotta take it to the fucking commission. You’ll start a war if you don’t.”
Lorenzo shook his head. “They’ll give him a pass. That brainiac Nova makes them nervous.”
“You gotta take it to the commission,” one of the other guys agreed. “Fucking footage was too grainy. We didn’t know it was a Moretti fucking her.”
Lorenzo shrugged. “Fine.”
But then he fired without warning, and pain exploded in Tino’s thigh. He shouted from the impact of it. His mind hazed white for several long seconds. Then he found himself naked and flat on his back, pressing his hand against the gushing wound in his thigh.
Tino bit his tongue hard, because he’d stopped giving sadistic motherfuckers the satisfaction of hurting him a long time ago. Thanks to his father, he was able to just glare up at them when he found himself surrounded by a bunch of thugs from the Savio Borgata.
