Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
With his father being the Boss of the Bacelli family, that made Joey the capo, and he had obligations that needed to be upheld. He couldn’t let some punk ass kid in a crew that was trying to move into his territory run his mouth.
“Now, how about you tell me who has been feeding you information, and why.”
“Please, Joey. I’ll leave. I swear I won’t come back,” Michael said frantically, his badass street persona totally vanishing as the sight of death faced him.
Joey lifted the gun toward Michael and took a step closer. The guy was bound good and tight, but he still tried to squirm away. “Act like a man, Michael, and not a fucking pussy.” Joey pointed the gun at his mouth. “Open.”
“Okay, okay, all I know is that my guy heard something from Anthony. But I swear on my fucking grandmother’s life that I wasn’t the one ratting out anyone. I would never tell what’s going on with anyone to another crew, or to the fucking cops.”
Joey shook his head. “You said the shit, and you know you did. But swearing on your granny’s life?” Joey looked at Niklo and Little Johnny, and his guys shook their head. “That’s low shit to do, man.” Joey pressed the barrel of the gun to his mouth again and said, “Now, open up.”
Michael started crying harder, but hesitantly did as Joey said. “See, letting you leave isn’t an option. You are a liability, and the fact you could rat us out to the Feds and get in WitSec means I have to cut the ties right now.”
Michael tried to turn his head, but Joey pulled the trigger. The click of the chamber emptying once sounded ominous in the small room, and Joey’s blood pumped hard and fast.
“I have five empty chambers, and one bullet in here with your name on it,” Joey said, and watched as the sweat beaded along the other man’s brow. Joey could have just outright killed Michael and been done with it. All they were doing was sending a message that a rat was as good as dead.
But Joey liked toying with Michael, liked seeing the fear of knowing he was about to die flash across his face. Call him a sick bastard, a mind fuck of an asshole, but Joey got the job done in the end.
He pulled the gun free from Michael’s mouth, and the guy gasped for air. Joey held his free hand out, and Niklo put a hunting knife in his palm. Joey smiled at Michael, and the other man started struggling harder. He opened his mouth to scream, but promptly shut it. Little Johnny had a hand on Michael’s forehead, and one on his chin, and held Michael’s head back.
“Mikey, now, you need to hold still so this can be done and over with.” Joey smiled again, and tapped the end of the blade against Michael’s lips. “Now, open up for me again.”
Michael shook his head violently, and the tears mixed with the blood that covered his face. Little Johnny pried Michael’s mouth open when it was clear the rat wasn’t going to do as he was asked and act like a man. Joey held the gun out to Niklo for a second, and before Michael could struggle further Joey reached in, grabbed his tongue, and brought the blade across Michael’s tongue.
The blade went through the muscle like a hot knife through a stick of butter. Blood poured out of Michael’s mouth, and Joey grabbed the rag Niklo handed him.
“We have to make a point, Michael, but since you want to act like you are tough shit on the street, you should know how this works.” Joey tossed the tongue aside, placed the gun back in Michael’s mouth, and stared right in his eyes. “See how little we had to do to get the information we wanted out of you? That shows me that with a little bit of pressure from outside influences you’d crack like a fucking egg.”
Joey straightened, rubbed his thumb along the gun, and then pulled the trigger again. He did that repeatedly, and the sweat just kept beading and sliding down Michael’s face. Joey leaned down so he was right in Michael’s face. The other man was panting now, his fear tangible. “A rat never makes it, Michael.” He pulled the trigger, and it just happened to be the round with the bullet. The shot rang loud, and the back of Michael’s head blasted across Little Johnny’s shirt.
“Fuck, man,” Little Johnny said and held his arms out.
“I want him placed where his crew can find him easily and get the ‘through the mouth’ message,” Joey said to both of his men, and stared at the corpse. “Also, have the tongue visibly on his mouth so there isn’t any mistake as to what the fuck happened. Anyone who fucks with a Bacelli will find out the hard way.” He turned and left Niklo and Little Johnny to finish the job, headed out to his car, and knew he needed to get this energy out of him. The only thing that would solve that was a stiff drink and a hot pussy. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed to his bar, because right now he needed to get good and liquored up, and find an easy woman to fuck. After killing a man that was running his mouth about the Bacelli crew, there wasn’t anything more satisfying.