Chapter 32
Jonny switched on some lights, hating the way the storm turned the day into night when a knock on the door interrupted him.
He squinted through the peephole, gripped the doorknob, and paused. Another knock, stronger than the first rattled the door. He flipped the locks and hauled the door open.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jonny fixed on Max’s unreadable expression, then on his rain-soaked jacket. A jacket much too heavy for the Florida heat.
He led him into the living room. Max’s footfalls echoed behind him on the marble floor, then stopped. Jonny spun around and froze. The .45 Max leveled at him said it all.
“It shouldn’t have come to this.”
“What the fuck?”
“Frank warned you so many times.” Max’s massive frame sagged, his voice a conflicted mix of anger and frustration.
“So this is it, huh?” Jonny edged away, his hand skimming the top of the couch. “We grew up together.” The painful edge of betrayal cut through his words. “We even went to juvie together.”
“You wouldn’t stop pushing.”
“The night Eddie got jumped, your phone call when we were hanging out in his room.” Suddenly it all made sense. “It was Frank, huh?”
“Yeah, it was Frank,” Max shouted. “I was in the fuckin’ middle. What was I supposed to do?”
Frank having Max do the job really hit home. The psychotic bastard knew how to find the weakest link.
“All your goddamn questions.” An untamable anger boiled up in Jonny and replaced the hurt.
“I tried to make you see what the fuck you were doing.” Max waved the gun around.
“And your friend Angel,” Jonny snapped. “How did he play into it?”
“He was supposed to shadow you and make sure you had an accident.”
“So how much is my life worth?”
“It’s not about money. It’s about power,” Max barked. “How do you think I felt, being your lackey? “If I do this, Frank said he’d . . .”
Jonny shook his head. “You stupid motherfucker, he's not gonna give you shit.”
Max paused, weighing his words.
“Just like Brutus and Caesar.” Jonny side-stepped around the couch.
“What?” Max clutched the gun in a white-knuckled fist.
“Caesar got too ambitious, and Cassius didn’t like Caesar’s new popularity, so he sent Brutus, Caesar’s trusted friend, to kill him.”
“Stop talking shit.” Max jerked at the collar of his shirt.
“Brutus felt justified. Is that how you feel, Max? Justified?” He needed to keep Max talking so he could get closer.
“Quit moving around,” Max warned, raising the gun higher.
The storm raged louder, and Max flinched when thunder rumbled, and gales of wind slapped rain against the windows.
Jonny’s biggest fear centered on Cheryl coming into the room. What’s the matter, Max? Not as easy as you thought it would be?”
Unarmed in a gun fight, Jonny would lose. His street fighting days taught him distraction and deception worked best. Fool them into thinking you were easing up, then take your shot.
“Jonny?”
Max spun around to the sound of Cheryl’s voice, but kept the gun trained on him.
Cheryl, entering the room in one of the skimpy negligees he’d bought her, was not the diversion he’d hoped for. He cut her a look that said, Get the hell outta here.
She flicked her hand at Max. “What’s he doing here waving a gun around?”
“Everything was fine until she came along,” Max growled. “Fucking your brains out, filling your head with shit.”
Jonny needed to force his fear down and use this horrible twist to their advantage.
“C’mon, can you blame me?” Jonny threw his palms up and advanced two steps. “I mean, is she not the most fuckable piece of ass you’ve ever seen?”
Cheryl loosened the satin ribbons of the bustier crisscrossed under her breasts, and without missing a beat she played Max with nerves of steel beneath her teasing grin. All her years of running cons might just keep them alive.
Max stared and licked his lips. The muscles in his back tightened, and the gun wavered.
“Picture those tits and that ass in a bikini.” Jonny kept the right amount of sleaze in his voice, while his insides churned. “Did I ever tell you how much she likes threesomes?”
“That’s because she’s a fuckin’ slut ready to sell you out. Max sneered. “Didn’t tell you about that, did she?”
Jonny stiffened. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Frank called her right after you got down here. Offered her a sweet deal.”
Jonny moved his gaze to Cheryl. “Did Frank call you?”
The guilt etched across her face floored him.
“Yes, but . . .”
“Shut up, you fuckin’ whore,” Max yelled.
“Jonny, let me explain,” Cheryl pleaded.
“Frank called you?” Being held at gunpoint meant nothing now. “You set me up?”
“Nooo,” she wailed.
“What do you think of your little whore now?” Max waved the gun in her direction.
Jonny’s mind blanked, a fist squeezing his heart.
Once again she’d played him, and he fell for it. Nothing mattered anymore. Another bolt of lightning flashed through the apartment, followed by a room-shaking clap of thunder. The lights flickered for a second, and Jonny sprung from the side. He grabbed Max’s wrist, yanked hard, and drove his foot against the outside of his knee. A pop and a grunt of pain as Max hunched over and staggered back two steps.
Another boom of thunder rattled through the room, but Jonny barely heard it. His focus shrunk to include Max and the gun. When Max relaxed his hand, and let the gun point to the floor, Jonny lunged. He realized his mistake a split second too late. Distraction and deception. He’d never forget the smirk on Max’s face.
A loud crack, Cheryl’s scream, heavy shoes on the stone floor, then a burning heaviness spread through Jonny's midsection. The buzzing in his head made him stumble and slump onto the couch. His heart pounded hard, then slowed. Sweaty and cold at the same time. He wanted to say something, but the dark red stain on his shirt entranced him. He pressed his hand against it, and his fingers were covered with the warm stickiness of his own blood.
Cheryl kneeled in front of him. “Jonny, stay with me!”
So many thoughts flew through his brain, but he couldn’t form the words.
“Hang on,” she pleaded.
He searched her face for anything that would take away a pain much worse than the one in his gut. But when her guard dropped for a fast second, the hard truth shone through, and now his brain zeroed in on one thing. She’d sold him out. His vision blurred like one of those cheesy movies with the dream sequences. Yeah, that’s it. This was a dream. A big, bad fuckin’ dream.