Page 13 of Pretty Lies
If they’re even there,my pessimistic mind whispers doubt.
“C’mon, Luce.” I mumble to myself just as I spot the nondescript car coming toward me.
I slowly step back into the darkness, letting my black hoodie and black jeans keep me hidden from potential witnesses, but the window to the driver side opens, and Luce’s face comes into view.
“Get in, ya fuckin’ bastard.”
I grin at him, feeling my adrenaline spike with anticipation as I walk around to the passenger side of the car.
Once I’m seated, I pull my gun out, the .45 millimeter feeling heavy and perfect in my hand as I slide a loaded clip in.
“Clerk just locked up.” I tell Luce.
“Yeah, I spotted him riding his bike just around the corner.” He replies simply as we slowly pass the store and park just beyond the alley.
“I didn’t want to call for backup since Drake is handling family business with his brothers. It’s just us tonight.” Luce pulls the joint from between my lips and puts it to his.
I lift my gun, pulling the slide back to load a round into the chamber before letting go, the metallic slap loud inside the car.
“Just usis all we need.” I watch Luce’s full lips pull into a crooked smirk.
We slide out of the car and step into the shadows underneath the scaffolding on the sidewalk of a building we parked in front of. I tuck my gun into the waistband of my jeans and pull the strings of my hoodie tight to keep my neck tattoos from showing. I pull on my leather gloves and turn to Luce to make sure he’s good to go as well but spot his broken arm hanging at his side.
“No sling?” I ask, though I’m grateful he’s not wearing it. Shit is too much of a risk while pulling a job, especially one like this. Going in as blind as we are is already playing a deadly game, no need to add to it by showing a weakness to the enemy.
“Nah, cast is good enough. I’ll be left-hand shooting tonight, though.” He lifts the hem of his shirt and shows me his Colt 1911 handgun tucked into the front of his jeans. “Hopefully I don’t shoot you by accident,” he winks, “I don’t have a lot of practice with the left.”
His sinister grin says he’s only partly joking, and I can’t find it in me to blame him for that. I fucked up earlier. I put my big ass foot in my mouth because I couldn’t see past my own fucking rage and took it out on him like a bitch. Using words like my father used his fists.
We get to the alley entrance, but I stop him before he can turn the corner, “Luce, about earlier. I was out of line with that bullshit.”
He claps me on the shoulder, “Forget about it, G. Water under the bridge. Right now, we just need to focus on this so we can headhunt without risking Lexi or Maxine.”
I give him a sharp nod before pulling my gun from my jeans and ducking into the alley. We go slowly, our steps quiet and our guns aimed at the ground while our eyes scan every inch of our surroundings. No one is in sight, not even the homeless. As we get to the stairs leading down to the cellar door behind the bodega, I hear the telltale sound of a lock disengaging. Luce hears it too, and we both duck behind the dumpster as we listen to someone flick a lighter, the smell of sweet tobacco mingling with the rotted stench of trash.
I turn to Luce and point my fingers toward my eyes before signaling to him to move toward the railing at the top of the stairs then I take out my silencer and twist it onto the barrel.
Once he gets to his spot, slinking behind trash bags and bins, I watch as he peeks around one of the overflowing trash cans, his eyes taking in the unknown man at the bottom of the cellar stairs before looking back at me.
He lifts one finger before making a finger gun.
The man has one gun.
I stand then, making my way to the stairs without making a sound until I’m standing exposed at the top of the ten-step stairway.
The guy looks up at me immediately and reaches for the gun at his waist, but I pull the trigger first, the bullet ripping through his wrist. Luce and I practically skip every step as we rush down each one. I slam into the motherfucker and watch as his head bounces against the brick wall. I grab his blown wrist and spin him as he screams in pain; words that sound like a plea meet deaf ears as I slam him against the wall once more. His forehead hits the bricks, and his screams cut off.
Once Luce takes the guy’s gun and checks him for other weapons, I let him go. He drops to the ground and scoots back until he’s leaning against the wall, his face bleeding from an open wound near his hairline. Who the fuck is this guy?
“Please, Gio.” he says through heavy breaths, saying my name like he fucking knows me, “I didn’t want any part of this.”
I tilt my head to the side, doing my best to place this motherfucker’s face, but I don’t know him from Adam.
“Who the fuck are you, and how do you know me?”
He hesitates to answer, but Luce lifts his gun and presses it to the guy’s temple, shoving his head to the side.
“My patience is running very thin.”
