Page 81 of Delivered in White

Enough time has gone by for them to rule Sonny dead. He had no reason to be in hiding. None at all. He wasn’t connected to his brother’s crime, and has no current heat onhim. Flashbacks of killing the piece of shit makes me remember his smug face even as a corpse.

The fucker’s haunting me from the grave.

I pull up to Razzle Tano’s in south Jersey – a gambling joint doubled as a hardware store. I can almost smell the booze from the parking lot. The concrete is all torn up and uneven. Four of the eleven letter lights are out. His crew is sloppy. Nothing like mine.

I nod at Snaps as he pulls up across the street. Just in case something happens, or if they try to fuck with my car while I’m inside, I have back up.

The door in front of me is still dented from the first time SWAT raided five years ago. Rumor has it, ever since, they’ve been greased. I swing open the door to a chubby six-foot-tall Sicilian-looking guy who’s too low rank for me to give a shit about.

“Whoa,whoa.” He puts his hand up. “No one’s expecting you, Knots.” He puckers his lips to hide a grin, which makes me think they very muchwereexpecting me.

That’s the problem with NickyFrits… he’s got good intel.

“Hands off, prick.” I push him hard, then grab his wrist before he can pull for something in his jacket. “Slow,”I warn him, eyes locked with his. It’s a cell phone, so I let go and fix my collar. “Go ahead. I’m here for Nicky. We have business to discuss.”

There’s that smirk again.

“Yeah,Knots DeMatteo is here,” the chubby guy speaks into his phone. “Seems harmless enough. How much can a prick carry wearing a polo and slacks? Ain’t like he got a trench coat on.”

Laughter rings on the other end.“Send ’em in.”

The voice isn’t Nicky’s. But it does sound close enough to be his right-hand – FrankieLaundry. Don’t look into it. Heowns a few laundromats and stuffed a guy inside a dryer once… in pieces.

“Go right ahead. Hope you brought cash. Buy in’s high.” The man snickers at me.

Can’t stand these pricks not treating me with respect just because I don’t have the title. I’ll remember all you fucks.

This store is a mess. As I make my way down the dingy row of tools with torn up boxes – mildew seeping through the walls – I’m tempted to call my cleaning crew just to lend them a hand. It’s embarrassing that we’re loosely associated.

I jiggle the handle to the back room.Locked.It’s pitch-black all around me, but no one would be dumb enough to start a war.

As I speak the words to myself… I’m not so sure.

Crckk.

The door unlocks and I was right – Frankie Laundry’sclean-shaven face peeks out.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Glove’s boy. If it doesn’t fit, he must acquit.” Frankie cackles to himself as he extends an arm over my shoulder to drag me in.

Another no-name big man locks us into the well-lit card playing area. It’s like a Vegas casino inside. They spent all their dough waxing the marble floors and installing professional grade craps tables, while leaving the tool shop a wreck. The balls on these guys.

“Going to need to frisk you,” Frankie says.

Everyone sitting at a thick eight-person poker table stops to look as I spread my arms out.

I’m clean, so I’m not worried, but when he yanks my cell phone out of my pocket, things get tense.

“The fuck, Frankie?” I eye him.

“We gotta talk, bud.” He wiggles the phone, then tosses it to one of the men at the table.

My blood is boiling – killer mind cranked into high gear. The big man is carrying on his hip, and Frankie has a pistol strapped to his back. The eight men… safe to say they’re all packing too. My best bet is to take the big man hostage as a meat shield and get the fuck out of here, if it comes to that.

“Nicky obviously ain’t here, so this meeting is over,” I say matter-of-factly. As I turn to the door, the big man folds his arms and shakes his head.

The idiot doesn’t realize one quick strike to the throat and he’ll be my fucking puppet.

“Wait,” Frankie says. “I think you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

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