In a strange way, it’s almost like coming home – until I see their stern, disapproving expressions, and feel an unwelcome chill down in my balls.
“Hey, paisans!” I greet them with my usual easy charm. “Looks like I’m on the inside with you guys now. You just tell me the score, and I’ll–”
“There ain’t no score, Giovanetti,” Philly growls. A memory of a time when I wasn’t on top of the world comes swift and sad, my throat closing at the thought. Why isn’t he calling me Dante? “Not for you.”
“Word is, you got taken down by a couple of cripples,” Louie sneers. “And one of ‘em was a woman. You got any idea how much you’ve fuckin’ embarrassed yourself here? You’re not one of us. You’re a pussy. Maybe we should rip off your jumpsuit and prove you’ve got one, you castrated motherfucker.”
“Not to mention the rest of us,” Jackie rumbles.
I look at their angry faces, stunned. A sound surges through my ears that sounds like the ocean waves of my Key West home, pounding and about to seize me and drag me away.
“You’re on your own in here, you useless fuckin’ mook,” Philly says. “You ain’t got no friends in here. You think you’re pullin’ the strings? Nah. There’s a man far more powerful than you, far richer than you, and he’s pullin’ the strings. From out there. Name’s Caldwell. Nixon Caldwell. He got to us first. Giovanetti, there ain’t nothin’ you got that’s anything we want, you ignorant bitch.”
The three men turn their backs to leave as they laugh amongst themselves.
“But…no! You can’t do that to me. Whatever Caldwell offered, I’ll double it! Triple it! Whatever you want, it’s yours,” I sputter as the first wave of real fear flows over me. At least I think that’s what it is. I haven’t felt fear since childhood. I’ve never had to. “I didn’t roll over on any of our guys to the cops. You’ve got to keep me happy now, right? Otherwise, I’ll…I’ll testify! I can still cut a deal! You’ll never get out of here if I turn on you.”
Slowly, they turn around. Jackie produces a long, wicked-looking shiv made from a bed coil.
“Try that,” he says. “See how it goes for you. Best you sleep with one eye open from now on.”
As they leave, I sit down hard on my cot, watching the other convicts drift by the bars to size up the new arrival. I’ll be lining up to eat and shower with them for the rest of my life, and one day, undoubtedly, one of them will beat me, stab me, maybe even kill me. Maybe I’ll even be better off if they do.
I slump over, putting my hands over my ears, but it doesn’t do any good.
I can still hear the Caldwells. All of them. But Lincoln most of all.
Screaming. Taunting. Tormenting.
I underestimated that kid.
And now I’ll hear nothing but his mirthless laughter tickling my ears forever.
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On The House by Colleen Charles ©2018 All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Colleen Charles loves reading and writing stories that entertain and sweep the reader away from their everyday life.
On The House (Caldwell Brothers Book 7) Page 18
