Gian
Tony Red and Sal escorted Tommy Calvo into my office with a gun pointed at his head. His stringy dark hair stuck out in every direction, and blood dripped from his nose. Carlo followed them inside, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“Shut the fucking door!” I yelled at Carlo. I didn’t know why Tony Red had recruited him tonight, especially when I was one second away from putting a bullet in Carlo’s head. Some of the guys told me Carlo had attempted to persuade Dominick to take me out based on fabricated charges. If he didn’t watch himself, I’d punch his ticket and worry about the implications later.
I dragged a wooden chair to the middle of my office and pointed to Tommy. “Have a seat.”
Tommy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind if I do.”
I circled his chair with my hands behind my back. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“I don’t have a fucking clue,” Tommy snarled, his nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. “You better have a damn good reason because Tony Red yanked me out of The Smoking Gun in the middle of a lap dance.”
“Where have you been for the past week?”
He stretched his legs out in front of him, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Taking care of my nonna. She’s been sick.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
I slammed my fists into his face. First, an uppercut to his jaw. Then, a left hook to his right cheek. And finally, one more punch to his nose.
A sickening crack echoed through the room, and his nose bent sideways. He slumped forward in his chair, cupping his face. Blood seeped between his fingers, dripping onto his shirt and pants.
I pulled a gun out of the waistband of my pants. “I strongly advise you to start showing me some respect, or you won’t like the consequences. And yes, this came from him.” I brushed my hand along my jaw to indicate I meant Dominick. To avoid being caught on a wiretap fingering Dominick for a crime, we weren’t allowed to say his name out loud in circumstances like this, so we touched or pointed to our jaw.
Tommy dropped his hands, his eyes wild. “I’m sorry, Gian. I had some shit come up this week. It won’t happen again.”
“By shit coming up, do you mean skimming money from deadbeats to feed your drug habit?” I asked.
“I don’t do drugs, and I would never steal money from the family.”
I released the slide of my gun. “Is that right?”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I borrowed some here and there, but I’ll pay you back.”
“When?”
Tommy swallowed hard and then grabbed a white handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face. “Tonight. I can borrow the money from my brother.” His brother wasn’t part of the Trassato family. He owned a deli in Bensonhurst.
I pointed at Tony Red. “Check his pockets.”
Tony Red grabbed Tommy by his collar and wrenched him to his feet. He pulled a roll of cash out of one pocket and a bag of white powder out of the other. He handed them both to me and shoved Tommy back into the chair.
I stuffed the roll of cash in my pocket. “How much is here?”
Tommy licked his lips. “Two grand.”
“You owe me ten grand more.”
Tommy nodded without giving me eye contact. “Okay. I can get it tonight.”
“What about this?” I asked, holding up the plastic bag filled with white powder.
He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. “Somebody gave it to me at the club. I wasn’t going to touch it.”
I threw the bag at his face. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He glanced at me then looked away. His eyes were red and dilated. “You’re a soldier. You’re a member of this family, and you’re walking around high as a fucking kite. People see you shoving drugs up your nose. You’re making a fool of yourself, and you’re making the family look incompetent.”
“I don’t do drugs,” he said, shaking his head furiously.
“So you’re telling me if I had you pee in a cup, it’d come back clean?”
“Fuck you.” He jumped to his feet, and the chair fell backward, clacking against the floor. Contempt slithered across his face. “What I do in my free time is none of your business. If I want to do a few lines or get drunk, I’ll do it. The family doesn’t own me. You don’t own me, and Dominick sure as hell doesn’t own me.”
In a matter of seconds, Tony Red had his gun out. I held up my hand to stop him, but he didn’t bother looking at me for approval. He pulled the trigger.
Tommy tumbled to the ground with a loud thud. His head bounced on the floor like a ball. Blood stained the front of his white shirt. His dark eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
I wiped a splatter of blood on my cheek with the back of my hand. “Tony, what the hell? Do you realize what you did? We weren’t supposed to kill him.”
Tony shoved his gun into the holster hidden inside of his suit. “I couldn’t take his shit anymore. He mentioned him, he disrespected you, he skimmed money, and I was sick of him talking to us like we’re a bunch of jerk-offs. If you get in trouble from the higher ups, you can pin this on me. I don’t care. He deserved to die.”
I ran my hands through my hair, my mind searching for a way out of this mess. Dominick wouldn’t like that Tommy ended up dead. If we explained the situation, he’d probably think Tony was justified, but it reflected poorly on me that I couldn’t control my soldiers. “Carlo, go out the side door, and pull the car around. Tony will carry out the body.”
“What are we going to do with him?” Carlo asked. I threw the plastic bag of cocaine on top of Tommy’s lifeless form.
“Dump his body along with the drugs on the street in the Bronx. Make the police believe it was a drug deal gone bad.”
Carlo folded his arms across his chest. “What are you going to do?”
“Clean up this fucking mess.” I gestured to the door. “Now move, before this blows up in our face.”