“It’s in there,” he says, bringing the car to a halt. “That fire escape suits me.” His voice is cold, like how it was when we first met. I look at him and the Enzo I know is gone. All I can think is that he’s now in work mode and will be until the job is done.
“Stay here,” he says, handing me the car keys. “Anything happens, get the hell out of here.” Then he’s gone, fetching the black case off the back seat before heading over to the fire escape in question.
He jumps onto a dumpster and then across to it, climbing with surprising dexterity as he keeps the case in one hand. He pushes himself through the railings onto the ladder with the other. He gets onto the steps and works his way up out of sight.
I keep watch. I see one glimpse of him up there and then all I can do is wait. A few moments later, I hear a dull crack as he fires. My guess is someone just died but it could easily have been a car backfiring somewhere nearby.
Another crack and this time I’m sure it’s him shooting. I look over to the warehouse but I can see nothing. I’m itching to get out and take a look but I don’t dare move.
I close my eyes, counting slowly, trying to keep calm. I jump when I hear the driver’s door open. “We good?” I ask as I look across to find myself staring into the face of a man I’ve never met before.
He’s in his sixties, olive-skinned, neat white hair close-cropped. He’s smiling at me but it’s the dead empty smile of a corpse.
“We’re very good,” he says. “Keys, now.” He pulls out a gun and points it at me. “I wouldn’t,” he adds when he sees me reaching for the door. “You’ll be dead before you roll to a stop. Sit on your hands, if you please.”
He takes the keys from me, watching as I slide my hands under my thighs. He puts the gun back in his jacket. “Good girl. He’s clearly trained you well.”
He starts the engine, yanks the steering wheel at the same time as crashing the gears, and then we’re spinning around, racing away from the warehouse back past the factories. “Who are you?” I ask although I think I already know the answer.
“Umberto Felici at your service,” he replies. “And I know who you are. The magic pussy that converted my employee into a lovesick puppy who will not do what he’s told. You know what you do with a puppy that refuses to obey instructions, don’t you?”
I say nothing. My throat is drying up and I’m thinking I never should have suggested the plan to Enzo. “Is he dead?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.
“He will be soon,” Umberto replies. “I’ve got a dozen men pinning him on that roof. He’ll never get out of there alive. But let’s not talk about such things. You kick a puppy that disobeys. You thrash it until it fears you enough to start listening. Then it obeys. Soon, you have a good pet. That’s what I had with Enzo. Enough beatings and he became a good obedient pet. Until you came along. Had to go messing with the order of things, didn’t you?”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Don’t look so glum. I’m taking you where you’ve wanted to go for years.” He glances my way, his smile widening into that of a shark’s. “I’m taking you to meet your parents.”
“My parents are dead, thanks to you.”
“You shouldn’t believe everything Enzo tells you. He lies. A lot. It’s part of his job.” He takes a left and we’re heading back along the roads Enzo and I took into the city. “Let me tell you a story about my good little doggie,” he says after a minute of silence. “I was kidding about your parents. They are dead. Enzo killed them.”
“Bullshit.”
“I know he told you some fun stories to make you open your legs but it’s truth time. He got made by killing them both. Shot them in their faces while they begged for their lives. Didn’t bat an eyelid. Went to shoot you as well but you managed to run faster than he could aim. Still, all’s well that ends well, isn’t it?”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I? What’s more likely? That a hitman with no soul would somehow find some morals and refuse to kill people for no good reason? Or that he’s told you some bullshit so you’ll let him fuck you without fighting him too much? You seem smart, surely you can see the truth when it’s staring you in the face? He’s dead inside. All he cares about is killing and fucking. The rest is manipulation to get what he wants. He’s been fucked up ever since I sold his foster mom to Blizzard.”
“You did what?” I can’t keep the shock out of my voice. All of a sudden it all makes sense. That’s why he said it was personal about getting Blizzard put away.
“He didn’t mention that part, I’m guessing?” Umberto says. “Course not, why would he? Not exactly a great light to shine on him, is it? His father took fifty bucks for her and I got her hooked on smack, not good for much but whoring. She kept telling him how she was going to get clean and be a good mom but he knew as well as I did that she was only useful for business. He didn’t care when I sold her to Blizzard for ten thousand bucks. Blizzard has his way with her, fucking her every which way while she cried her eyes out, cutting her while he did it. Chopping her into little pieces when he was done.”
He wipes his mouth, removing the spit that’s formed while he’s been talking. “Got to admire it really. I told him he could keep you as his fuck toy until it was time for you to die but he had to go and double-cross me. I offered him my job, there was no need to do it this way. A killer, through and through. Can’t even stop when he sees a good deal right in front of him.”
“I don’t believe you,” I reply but my voice is quieter and the certainty inside me is crumbling.
“Take some advice. Never get close to a man like Enzo. It’s like trying to embrace the needle tip of a smackhead. There’s no way you won’t get infected with something painful, probably terminal. Still, cheer up. You get to see your parents soon.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“No, of course not. I just want to show you something, that’s all. I’m not a killer. Enzo is but I’m not.”
“You sold his foster mom to Blizzard.”
“Didn’t kill her, did I?” He shakes his head. “I’m an honorable man, Chloe. Unlike your former lover. You should see some of the women he’s fucked before. So many of them. I couldn’t even manage half of that number. You’re just one more notch on his bedpost but don’t worry. He’ll be dead soon and you can move on without him. Won’t that be lovely?”