Page 17 of Redeeming Bosley

“Okay, give me an hour,” Evie said, then she wrapped her arm around the young one’s shoulders and led her away.

“You ready?” I asked Rocco.

He made a show of cracking his knuckles. “It’s like going to a party. I can’t wait.”

As we headed toward the apartment, I said, “Don’t kill him.”

He stopped up short. “What the fuck you talkin’ about?”

“He’s our warning to the other pimps in the Family territory to move out.”

Rocco glared at me. “Right? What better warning than to kill him?”

Ignoring him, I marched up to the door of the apartment and knocked gently, then stepped to the side. Rocco looked at me like I’d taken leave of my senses, even as he stopped short so Tad the pimp wouldn’t be able to see us out of the peephole. I wanted this guy to think that I was one of his girls, not jump out the window and make a run for it.

The door swung open. “What?” That was followed by, “The fuck?” and a hulking brute with greasy hair and pockmarks all over his face stuck his head out, looking from side to?—

Bam. I clocked him in the eye, sending him flying back into the apartment. Rocco frowned. “Why’d you get first dibs?”

“Because I’m older than you.”

Rocco rolled his eyes.

Tad was on his knees, trying to stand up as we made our way inside. Rocco kicked him in the side, moving him out of the way for me to close the door.

“Hello, Tad,” I said casually.

“What the fuck? Who are you? Get out!”

Rocco clucked his tongue. “See, Tad. The way I see it, the person who needs to get out of here is you.”

As Rocco taunted and lectured him, I wandered the shithole apartment, poking around. There were take-out containers with half-eaten food and trash all over a two-person table in the kitchen. The counters were a dumpster fire of more of the same—liquor bottles and beer cans overflowed from the trash.

I passed a screaming Tad as Rocco pulled a gun out of the back of his pants. “Hey, don’t?—”

“I know, I know. But I really need this guy to shut the fuck up.”

“Hm. That’s fair.” The one bedroom contained nothing but a stained mattress with a dirty blanket and a couple of pillows on it. “You’re a real class act, Tad,” I muttered to myself. No doubt this is where he made his girls provide him with their services—for free. Like the bedroom, the bathroom didn’t have any personal items.

“So you let the girls live down here in squalor, sharing an apartment, but this is just what? Where you hole up to keep an eye on them?”

He kept his gaze trained on Rocco’s gun. “This is my place of business.”

“Is that legal? What do you think, Rocco? Are these places zoned to run businesses out of?”

He shrugged. “Hell if I know. But I’m pretty sure the Buccelli Family isn’t okay with prostitution on their streets. They got some respectable houses set up for this type of entertainment.”

Tad sneered. “I got permission to run this street.”

Planting my hands on my hips, I stared down at him where he kneeled on the floor. “Permission from who?”

Smirking, he said, “Don Buccelli himself.”

“Huh. Was that the old Don or the new one?” I asked.

Tad’s smile faltered, and Rocco huffed. “Mistreating his girls, lying about the Don…I don’t know, Romeo. I think you should let me put a hole in his head.”

Ignoring him, I kept my gaze fixed on Tad. “So, here’s what’s gonna happen. He”—I nodded at Rocco—“is gonna beat the shit out of you. More than likely put you in the hospital. We’re gonna make sure that everyone hears about it so any other enterprising individuals like yourself know to get outta here. Then once you’re on your feet, you’re gonna find a new career or get outta Takoda.”

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