Trapped in his End Game (Series)

CARMINE

She fucking saw it.

The second I saw her face, I knew. The question is-why the fuck was she looking through my desk?

The hair raises on the back of my neck when I look at her sitting behind the poker table. She smiles sweetly at the guys clustered around her. The busted light above her head softens the brightness around her, making her look softer, too. And more human. They’re on her like flies on honey and one of them actually takes her hand in his.

Goddamn it.

The floor manager is looking the other way, so I walk across the room and place a hand on the guy’s shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir.”

Adriana looks up from the game nervously, grimacing.

He wheels around, and I recognize him instantly. He’s a made guy, but he’s drunk off his ass and his hand is still touching her. Aside my annoyance from his obvious disregard from the rules, I’m pissed. Anger rises in my throat like acid.

She’s mine.

“You can’t touch the dealer.”

“Carmine, fucking relax. I just dropped twelve grand in one of your games.”

The wiseass grins at me like I’m fucking asshole and he squeezes her hand.

“I’m sorry, but those are the rules. Let go of her.”

Adriana gives me a look like I should drop it, but I ignore it.

“Geez, he’s got a stick up his ass.” He gives her a grin, which she reluctantly returns.

This fucking guy.

Smiling painfully at the others, I lean in so that only this prick can here me. “I’ll break your fucking hand off if you don’t let go of my woman.”

Finally, the moron gets the message and lets go of her with an apologetic look. “Sorry, Carmine. I didn’t know.” I didn’t know she was yours.

That’s beside the point, but whatever. A victory’s a victory, even if I’m not supposed to threaten guests. I just can’t control myself when it comes to her-and women in general.

Adriana’s grateful, flushed face betrays nothing. She doesn’t know yet.

I’ve always regretted that day. I was young and stupid, and madly in love with an older woman. A married woman. We were just supposed to scare them. I used to collect payments. Every week, I visited their house, occasionally catching a glimpse of the cute little girl. The girl I’m looking at right now.

I killed her father. I ripped open his neck in front of her and watched him bleed out. It was stupid. I thought we could be together if he was gone.

Jesus fucking Christ, what’s wrong with me?

The boss at the time was livid when he found out what I did. I lied through my teeth about the whole thing, that it was an accident.

It wasn’t. I wanted her. And then her husband was dead, and she was free, but she wanted nothing to do with me after that. She just wanted a younger guy to fuck around with. She never actually considered leaving her husband. I was just a dumbass. Why would she want me after what I did to her kid?

The boss made sure I stayed away from her. They threatened her against talking to the cops, and life went on. I fucked other women, fell in love and got my heart broken countless times, and now I have her daughter.

It’s so fucking wrong, but I don’t care.

I love her.

And when we get more serious, I’ll force Tony to end this ridiculous punishment. She’ll move in with me and keep the house tidy, and have dinner ready when I come home. At night, she’ll warm my bed.

My thoughts pull irresistibly back to the night before, when she cringed at my touch. I’ll admit that I assumed the worst, but it hurt to see her flinch from me. Her brown eyes widened in the feeling I know only too well and the slightest bit of self-disgust settled in my stomach.

Ma did much worse. Didn’t she see the cigarette burns? Does she even realize how hard it is for me to work in a casino, surrounded by that putrid stench all the time? The acrid, burning smell throws me into the most bitter memories. Not just smoke, but the smell of burning human flesh.

Everybody gets smacked around by their parents. Shut up, Carmine.

Shoving it out of my mind, I focus on the present. I scan the floor, but every dealer seems to be doing fine. Customers continually filter in and out of the VIP room. Then I see something that ruins my day.

A cop.

I know he’s a cop instantly from the inherent sense of entitlement. Every cop always gives out an air of smugness, and this one’s no exception. He flashes his badge to the guards. I’m on him before anyone else can blink. He is in his thirties, with short-cropped hair and a waxen face.

He’ll be hard to win over.

“Officer, how may I help you?”

“My name is Officer Delgado. I’m looking for Carmine Lucchesi.”

The guard gives me a grim look.

Fuck’s sake.

“I’m Carmine. What’s the problem?”

“I just have a few questions. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

The smile on my face is painful. “Sure.”

A dozen eyes watch as I walk across the casino and open the door to the employees only section. My office is hidden in the back. It’s a tiny, cramped thing I rarely go into. I hope to fucking God Tony hasn’t bugged it. I’ll have to check later.

The cop strides in and I close the door behind us, taking a seat behind my desk. He sits down across from me, refusing to smile back.

What the fuck does this prick cop want?

He gets right to it. “Are you aware of Officer Cramar’s disappearance?”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. I smile genially. “Who?”

“Let’s cut the crap, Carmine. I know for a fact you were one of his CIs because I was his partner.”

Heat flushes my face and my eyes dart to the door. “You have some fucking balls coming in here, talking about that shit. Are you out of your fucking mind? Anyone could hear this conversation.”

He reaches into his jacket, unperturbed by my reaction, and takes out a small notepad. “Where were you on the 13th?”

It’s the day I got rid of him. Even though flash of panic spikes through my nerves, I keep my body very still.

Don’t look away.

“I was in the casino. I have security tapes, if you’d like to see them.”

I’m not a moron. I always prepare for this shit. I made sure to have security tape of myself dated on that Wednesday. There were no witnesses. This cop is just fishing for information.

That’s what I tell myself, at least.

“Sure.”

“Let’s go, then.”

The cop follows me outside, towards the security booth where the eye watches over everyone. I can’t wait to get him the fuck out of here. Too many people have seen me talking to this fucking cop already.

I knock on the door and George opens, blinking at the cop standing behind me. “George, do me a favor and take a break.”

“Sure thing.”

Giving me a wide-eyed look, he leaves the office. Sighing, I let Officer Delgado in and sit down at the desk. I know exactly where the tape is because I placed it there days ago, but I pretend to rummage around the drawers as he watches me like a hawk.

Finally, I find it.

“Here it is!”

I give it to the officer so that he can see the date of the tape himself, and then I pop it in the black and white TV.

“Mind if I come a little closer?”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t need to. I walk in and out of the camera’s view, plainly recognizable. The date and time at the bottom of the screen confirm my story, but the cop fast-forwards the tape as if to catch me in a lie. When the tape runs out, he leans back, looking extremely disappointed.

“Something wrong, officer?” I barely contain the sneer in my voice.

He doesn’t hear it. “My partner is missing. We’re investigating anyone who had contact with him in the last couple weeks.”

“Maybe he got tired of being a cop and decided to skip town.”

That earns me a glare. “Listen to me, you piece of shit. I know one of you assholes is behind this. We traced his last cell phone call to a pay phone near Coney Island. The only people who use pay phones are criminal scumbags like you who need to use an outside line.”

Watch your step, Officer Delgado. I killed one cop, and I can easily kill another one.

“I don’t appreciate your accusations and you coming in here like this, talking about my business out in the open.”

“I’ll be in touch,” he says in a frosty tone. “Don’t leave town without calling me.”

Whatever.

I show him out of security and back into the casino. I just want to get him out as fast as possible, to remove his ass from the premises. I’m on his heels as he weaves between the tables, glancing here and there. In the entrance, a man whose bulk seems to be wider than the doorway fixes his mean, small eyes on me.

Tony Rizzo.

Holy fucking shit.

The cop passes by him, giving him a snide look like it’s only a matter of time before he has us all locked up. I approach Tony, nerves fluttering in my stomach when he gives me that squinted, mean smile.

“What the fuck was that about?” he says when the cop disappears behind the doors.

“Nothing, Tone. Prick was just breaking my balls about a fight that happened a week ago.”

Tony’s grin widens dangerously and my hands twitch at my sides.

Something’s wrong.

He grabs the scruff of my neck, snarling in my face. “What were you thinking you stupid fuck?”

“Tony, what the fuck?”

In front of everyone, he drags me. I see Adriana’s pale face watching anxiously as I’m thrown into the men’s bathroom. Thankfully, it empty. I turn around steadily as he locks the door behind him.

“The fuck is your problem?”

Tony’s red face shakes with fury. “You’re my fucking problem. I talked to the guys at the deli and I know you killed that cop.”

My insides turn to ice.

Not good.

Not good at all.

He grabs my neck and slams me into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster. Stars burst in front of my vision and I want more than anything to beat the shit out of this asshole, but I know I’ll get killed.

“They recognized the fucking guy on TV and told me about it. You must be out of your fucking mind! The last thing I need right now are feds crawling up my ass.”

Shit.

“Tony-I can explain-”

“Oh, I’d love to hear this.”

“During that last job, there was a cop inside his apartment. I had to do them both! When I found out he was a cop, I took care of everything. Even his car.”

Tony’s face is an inch away from mine as he bellows at me, little flecks of spit landing on my face. His crooked teeth are bared as he growls. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

Cause you’re a dumb, fat fuck who wouldn’t be able to calm down.

“I knew how you’d react.”

I keep my face in a neutral line, even though I’m laughing at him inside.

He jabs his finger in my face. “We do not touch cops, do you hear me? A hit like that brings the family heat we don’t need right now. I’m this close to settling our problems with the Vittorios. If you fuck it up for me, I’ll kill you.”

“Why settle things? Why not just get rid of them?”

Killing Vincent Cesare would be the highlight of my career.

“Because, you dumb prick, Jack has Johnny on his side now.”

Right. The Cravotta family boss in Montreal. They’re a big family, and a war against the Vittorios and the Cravottas would be a bit too much to handle.

“What did you do with the body?”

“Relax. I buried his head and hands in a farm on Long Island. They’ll never fucking find it.”

At the sound of my confident voice, Tony’s hackles settle down and he backs away finally letting go of my suit.

“You better hope they don’t.”

Then he storms out of the bathroom, the door swinging in his wake.

I’m not convinced that Tony will let things slide, but it’s time to pay a visit to Johnny and Brian.

Then I’ll think of what to do.

* * *

My rage builds around me like an electrical cloud as I get in my car. I had plans today, but now they’re all fucked. I told Adriana she had to take the metro today. I think on some level she felt relieved-that look she gave me when I squeezed her neck said it all, really. She looked at me like I was some kind of monster.

It wasn’t such a big deal. Why do women have to get into hysterics about everything? Sometimes people do violent things out of love. My Ma beating my hands with a wooden spoon when I stole snacks from the cupboard-that was done out of love. She was trying to teach me to be a good boy, but I never listened. I know I’m rotten to the core, just like she always said. Look at what I do for a living.

But you only stole the snacks because you were starving.

A soft, low voice in my head speaks in my head. Tears spring in my eyes suddenly. I shake my head violently, nearly crashing into traffic as I slam the brakes.

No. Ma loved me, she just didn’t know how to show it without hurting me.

The other voice in my head simmers with quiet disagreement. I don’t like thinking like this. It just upsets me.

Adriana’s frightened face haunts me as I drive to Jersey. The stormy, grey clouds above my head reflect my mood as I park and step out of my car. Brian and John should already be inside. Carefully, I approach the back door of the deli and watch them shoot pool and eat sandwiches inside the employee area. There are no captains there. Great.

They’re laughing when I enter the room. Brian leans over the pool table, shutting up immediately when he sees me enter.

“What’s so funny?”

John, a young guy with spiky black hair, stands against the wall with a pool cue. He is still smiling. “Nothing, we were just breaking balls.”Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Come on, I want to hear the joke.”

Cocksuckers.

He gives Brian an uneasy look. “Carmine, relax. We’re just letting off some steam.”

The other men back away nervously as I approach John, whose hand clenches over the pool cue. I can practically taste his sweat. The fucking bastard.

“What did you say?”

“I’m sorry, Carmine.”

I corner him against the wall, looking into his wide eyes. It’s my own fault for having a reputation for being a nice guy.

“Oh, you’re sorry? That’s nice.”

I smash my fist into the side of his fucking head. The room explodes with gleeful yells as I pounce on him, pinning him on the floor as I channel every drop of my rage into my fists.

“Carmine, what the fuck?” he screams.

Grabbing a beer bottle from the pool table, I smash it over his head and it explodes in a thousand pieces. Glass shards are lodged in his face, blood streaming down in little rivers. Then I wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze.

“You told Tony about the guy I brought here, you fucking worthless piece of shit. What, did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

His eyes bulge as I squeeze harder and then strong arms wrap around me, yanking me back. The jerk-off gulps down air and my shoes slip from the glass. Brian looks at me with a deer in headlights look, confirming his guilt. A ball of fury builds up in my chest and I lunge towards him.

“Carmine, calm down!”

“Get the fuck off me!”

Brian holds up a hand as if to placate a wild animal. John cries on the floor, clutching his face in pain. “I had to tell Tony the truth. He’s the boss. What did you expect?”

I rip my arms out of their grasp and aim the broken beer bottle at his face. “The next time you go crying to Tony Rizzo, I’ll do you worse than Johnny over there.”

I throw the beer bottle as hard as I can, aiming for his face, but Brian ducks out of the way and it explodes.

“Oh! What the fuck, Carmine?”

I don’t give a fuck.

One of them stoops down to help Johnny, who is still crying like a little bitch. They all look at me like I’m crazy. The floor is covered in shattered glass and flecks of blood. My chest heaves, my fingers itching to wrap around Brian’s throat.

“Fuck all of you.”

My gravelly voice trembles in my chest. Shaking, I turn my back on them and walk out.