Trapped in his End Game (Series)

TOMMY

Underneath the Brooklyn Bridge is a convenient spot to have a private conversation. It’s deserted, quiet, and the cops don’t monitor it. A cold breeze suddenly blasts through our coats, riding over the icy water. Nicholas, a short, stocky man who’s one of the most reliable men in my crew, doesn’t even bother bunching his coat together. He stares at me with a slack-jawed expression.

“You want me to help you whack a boss.”

“Yeah.”

I bounce on my feet, as if propositions to kill bosses happen all the time.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy.”

My eyes narrow dangerously at that assessment. “He left me with no choice. That doesn’t make me crazy.”

“You don’t even know if he’s gunning for you.”

True, I had a hard time believing he would come after me, given our history and everything I’ve done for him, but it would be a mistake for him if he didn’t. A stroke of guilt wipes the smile from my face. Is this what I’ve come to?

Killing the very man who gave me this life?

“There’s a lot of money in it for you.”

“No fucking way.”

Bitter disappointment roils in my stomach as he turns his back on me and walks away.

“Fine, then I guess you’ll have to find some other way to pay for your wife’s cancer treatments.”

He pauses for a moment, but shakes his head and continues to his car.

So much for him.

I sigh heavily and trudge up the hill to my car. Once I’m inside, I slam the door shut and grasp the wheel.

It’ll be a hard sell for the other guys. Whacking a boss makes you enemies you’ll probably never get rid of, unless the old crew is completely wiped out. The other families won’t like it-might send guys to avenge Jack, and then I’m stuck with the same fucking problem.

No, I need to give them a reason to want to get rid of Jack. How could I fucking do that?

Melanie shrinks in the passenger seat, her lips white as she sucks in her bottom lip. Her black curls contrast beautifully with her pale skin, and when her teeth release her lip, a bright-red color rushes into them. I reach out and touch her face, feeling a small tug in my chest when she sighs into my hand. I know she doesn’t want to be here, but after what happened before I’m not letting her out of my sight.

“Any luck?”

“No.”

A shaking sigh expels from her lips, almost as if she’s relieved. I can’t believe what a bleeding heart she is.

“You don’t have to do this,” she says for the millionth time.

“Unfortunately, I do.” I stroke a finger over her bottom lip and a pretty pink color fills her cheeks.

“This is just insane!”

“I can understand why an outsider would feel that way, but trust me. This is how it is.” Resentment boils in my stomach and my voice drops down to a hush. “He did it behind my back, after I asked him not to-after everything I’ve fucking done for him, and I’ve stepped way over the line by killing those guys at the deli. He’s coming after me. I don’t know how or when, but he is.”

“But how do you expect to do this?” she asks me in a high voice. “When everyone’s on his side?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

She stares ahead as her eyes slowly fill with tears, and I feel a rush of affection for her. She’s held it together remarkably well, considering everything she has been through.

“Tommy, just let me go to him.”

“What?” I figure I must’ve heard wrong.

“Just take me to Jack.”

Tears slip down her face. Two of them drop from her cheek and run down my hands. My stomach feels suddenly empty.

“No.”

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“It’s not. Baby, you need to calm down.”

Her voice turns shrill. “How can I calm down when your life is in danger, too?”

I stroke her incredibly soft hair and wonder how the hell I got this woman to give a flying fuck about my life. “I’d rather die than give that fucking asshole what he wants. Melanie, he tried to take you from me. You really think I can let that go? Just walk away and never think about it again, no problem?” My hand falls from her face and I sit back, shaking my head. “God help anyone who tries to take you away from me.”

“But what if you get killed because of me? How am I supposed to live with that?”

I don’t point out that if I’m dead, she’s probably fucked. “I’m not giving you up, Melanie, so stop mentioning it.”

It just upsets me.

She gives me a watery smile. “I love you.”

A thrill that I’ve never known before shoots up my spine, burying somewhere in my chest whenever she says those words. In the past, I would have never done all this for some broad, no matter what she looked like. The man I was would have put a bullet in her head, or strangled her with a garroting wire, and been done with it. If it were anyone else, I would have followed Jack’s orders and become made. My life would be complete. That desire still exists inside me, but just the idea of her death makes me inwardly recoil. My very being rejects it, like an act against my nature, except I’ve murdered countless men for Jack and never lost a night of sleep over it. Why now?

That must be love, right?

A fluttering, weak feeling fills my stomach when she leans over and kisses me. My hand buries in her hair and I feel lost in the smell of her shampoo, the softness of her lips, and the little moans she makes. I know this isn’t the time, but I just want to drag her in the backseat of my car and fuck her until she screams.

Shattering glass springs us apart. The noise makes Melanie lift her head in confusion, and for one heart-stopping moment I think about how exposed she is. It all happens in an instant. I shove her head down and take cover behind the dash to grab my gun as glass shatters over our heads.

Fuck.

Still ducking, I start the car as gunshots zip through the windshield and shift it in drive as Melanie’s screams stab my ears. It’s too risky to risk raising my head and getting it blown off, so I gun the engine and move the wheel toward the angle of the shots. A male scream mingles with Melanie’s voice, and then a heavy object clips the side of my car and the wheels roll over something that resembles a log. I check the side-view mirror and see a man sprawled on the pavement, his gun a few feet away.

I slam the car to a halt and wrench the parking brake, not sparing a second to get out of the car and make sure the motherfucker dies. He’s an older man, his cracked glasses lying next to his head as his mouth gapes soundlessly. His ribs are probably broken and they punctured his lung, and I feel a savage triumph for the amount of pain he must be in. It’s Paulie, one of Jack’s captains.

Oh well.

My gun rises to his temple. What I’d like is to bring him home with me and make him scream, but there’s no time to play. Crack, crack. Crack, crack. The gunshots split the cold air. Two slam his head back, and two more bury inside his chest.

Bye, Paulie. I never really cared for you, anyway.

I watch him die-really it’s an instant death, so I’m just watching his blood stain the pavement. My heart pounds against my ribs, flooding my veins with fire that radiates outward like an oven.

Fuck you, Jack. We are done. We are finally fucking done.