Page 107 of Stolen Kisses
They’d blow my head off and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I was doing this clever, the smart way.
I wanted the story first, of how it happened.
How he killed Christina?
“How did you do it? How did you kill her? Tell me what happened to her.” I had to mask my emotions as I asked the questions. “Christina D’Angelo, tell me how you killed her.”
The asshole just looked at me, not answering.
“TELL ME!” I bellowed and my voice echoed around the room.
“We’d had an on and off relationship. Things got messy when she got pregnant and demanded I leave my wife. I offered her the chance to live by breaking things off with her, but the little whore didn’t accept the offer.”
Whore …
The note, that was what he wrote on the note he’d attached to Christina.
“Finish the fucking story,” I demanded.
“With the amount of men she’d been seeing I was certain that baby wasn’t mine, but she insisted. When I fought back she threatened to expose me. Exactly the way you did tonight. It was my mistake. I should have really found the evidence she claimed she had, she’d hidden it somewhere where only she could find it. I thought killing her was better. I thought if only she could find it, then no one else would.”
“You stabbed her multiple times. You bastard, you killed her knowing she was pregnant.” That time I couldn’t mask the emotion. I was a ruthless bastard, but I would never, ever do something like that. Kill a woman who was not only pregnant, but pregnant with my child.
I remembered the stab wounds in her stomach. The whole scene was gruesome but that …
There were no words. No words to describe what this man was.
Evil didn’t begin to cover it. It didn’t even start to climb up the scale.
The murder was vengeful and like payback. Vinny said she had dirt on him, but it was so much more.
And more, there were two of them involved.
“You weren’t alone. Flowers isn’t your style.” I instantly looked to Barabbas and the creepy guy.
The creepy guy I kept my gaze on.
Him, he was there. He was the accomplice.
The creepy guy who we were told was called Antonio, Antonio Manello.
He was a Manello.
The kind who did the dirty work like the cleanup crew, but there was a little more he was capable of doing. More that he’d been in a secure psychiatric unit for, for at the least a solid five years.
All related to his obsession with women being sexually assaulted and killed. People like him shouldn’t be allowed to live or ever been born.
He was the liaison for the charity and the government office who provided the funds for the events and fundraisers. He did everything including meet with the organizers and people like Christina.
The smile he gave me told all.
I’d heard enough, saw enough, and it was time for war.
No one was a quicker shot than me. My hands were quicker than the eye could ever be.
It was something Pa had taught me. As this mother fucker looked at me smiling, I held his gaze making him think I was waiting for an answer, then I whipped out the Berretta from my left pocket and shot him straight in the head.
