Dirty Hitman

by Vivian Connelly

  Strike that—three cats; one just slunk out from under the couch. I reached down to pet the one walking past me and was greeted with a twitching tail. Abraham was back a second later with a glass full of ice cubes and Diet Coke. A flowered glass.

  “So what brings you out this way, man? You never call anymore.”

  “I’ve got a little problem, Abraham. I need your help.”

  This brought a deep belly laugh from the hippy seated across from us. The noise shook a fourth cat loose from behind his easy chair.

  “You need my help? You know you have it, man. What’s the problem?”

  “Sammy Muscelli is trying to kill me.”

  For the first time since we had been there I saw the smile leave the big man’s face.

  “That’s a problem, alright. What the fuck is he after you for? Don’t you guys technically work for the same boss?”

  I sat there and listened to Micky retell the story to Abraham. Micky trying to buy his way out. Bad guys trying to kill him and steal his money. Me hitting Sammy with a bedpan and helping Micky get away. Abraham laughed and high fived me twice during that part of the story. But then the laughing stopped.

  “That’s a fucked up story, man. How can I help you?”

  “I just need somewhere for Jackie to hang out for a few hours, Abraham. I need to make a phone call and try to end this thing and I don’t want her coming with me when I go to meet the big man.”

  “Yeah, I can’t say I blame you for that. This girl doesn’t look like the mobbed up type.”

  He paused a second while he gave me the once over.

  “Although Big Poppa might surprise you too, man. He’s a pretty sentimental old fart once you get beneath the bullets and the blood.”

  Micky nodded. I said nothing because I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about. But Abraham sensed my awkward silence.

  “You know his name isn’t Micky, right?”

  I nodded and Micky didn’t look pleased.

  “Abraham…”

  “His name is actually Jonathon Schwartz. Did he tell you that? Jonathon Schwartz?”

  He was leaning forward and whispering it like he didn’t want the cats to hear him and I couldn’t help but giggle. Micky still wasn’t pleased.

  “Abraham…”

  “Did he tell you how we know each other? Do you have any idea how I know his real name?”

  “Abraham…”

  But now he had my interest and I put up a hand to hush Micky.

  “No, I need to hear this. Go ahead, Abraham.”

  Abraham laughed. Micky didn’t. And then the bearded hippy told his story.

  “We’re both from this little pissant of a town you’ve never heard of out north of Pittsburgh. I used to teach history in the high school there. I taught for as long as I could remember because I like being around kids but it never paid the bills worth of shit. Anyway, one of my star students the whole time I was teaching at Podunk High School was none other than Jonathan Schwartz here. You believe that shit?”

  He let out another belly laugh and scared a cat right onto the sofa next to me. I started petting and the cat started purring and Abraham kept telling his story.

  “There was a bad element at that school too. A lot of the high schools out in those steel towns have some pretty rough kids walking around the halls. Gangs, tattoos, the whole nine yards. But I knew Jonathon was better than that. I tried talking to him and getting him involved in clubs and stuff. I like to think that with my help he kept himself clean.”

  “Alright Abraham, that’s enough…”

  “No wait, I want to hear the rest.”

  I could tell Micky was getting uncomfortable, which was exactly why I wanted to hear the rest of the story. Every last detail. And Abraham just kept on talking.

  “Oh, he got involved in academic clubs, and he even got good grades for a steel town kid. Good enough grades to get into the likes of Penn State, apparently. But he also got into fights. Lots and lots of fights. But Jonathon Schwartz got into fights because he was a good guy.

  “He was the kind of kid who would walk down the hall and see the thugs picking on some weak kid and then it was game on. He got in fights all the time, but the kids he ended up fighting were always the shittiest kids in the school. Everyone knew it. Even the principal stopped suspending him after a while because when he got in a fight he was usually delivering justice to some asshole who deserved it. And he usually always won.”

  I looked at Micky and Micky looked away. I even caught a hint of a blush on his cheek. Vegan mafia hitman tough guy—Jonathon Schwartz standing up to the bullies in his high school.

  Yeah, it kind of made sense.

  “Anyway,” Abraham continued, “Micky graduated and I eventually left teaching. It wasn’t paying the bills worth of shit and I needed to move on after a while, you know? So I moved out and got this place on the edge of the city and took a loan from some guys to try to start my own flower business. I didn’t exactly go to the bank for the loan, if you catch my drift. Because banks don’t give out money to guys that look like me.”

  He looked at me and shrugged. Yeah, a fifty-year-old bearded hippy, I couldn’t see him getting far with a bank.

  “So of course those kinds of situations never work out well. I fell behind because quite frankly I suck at business. I couldn’t pay the money I owed so of course I got into trouble. The guy I owed money to ended up sending a tough guy to come push me around and guess who I run into? After not seeing him for ten fucking years?”

  Micky’s patience was obviously running short but he smiled back at Abraham as he finished telling his story.

  “Do you believe it? The last time I saw this kid he was the geek of the high school who fought off the bullies. Now this guy is coming to my house to break my legs because I couldn’t afford to make a payment to a loan shark. That’s what kind of flipped it for him in the family. Everything changed after that.”

  Micky sighed and leaned back in his chair and one of the cats took the opportunity to jump on his lap. Abraham paused but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook.

  “What do you mean, Abraham? What changed.”

  “Micky has too much heart. He wasn’t going to hurt me. He ended up working with me to find a way to pay them back. He even chipped in a little himself. The big man realized after that they could never send him out to do someone that wasn’t already rotten. I changed everything for him.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Abraham,” Micky said while petting the Calico that was making itself comfortable on his lap. “I had been telling them that I didn’t want any part of that shit long before your sorry ass ever came up short on a loan.”

  “Whatever, man,” Abraham said with a dismissive shake of his hand. “However it happened, after that day the big man never sent Micky out after anyone who wasn’t already a stone cold scumbag. Micky was different than the others, as different as you can be in that kind of culture. Micky had brains and something that passed for morals. And they already had someone who would kill a grandmother if you put the finger on her.”

  Abraham stopped speaking but he didn’t stop looking at me. But I started to understand what he was saying.

  “You mean…”

  “Yep. Sammy Muscelli, aka Sammy the Scar. He’s old school. He’s pure bred underworld trash. He fucking hated Micky the moment he stepped foot inside the family, and after the big man started changing the way he doled out jobs he hated him even more. Frankly, I’m surprised it’s taken this long for ‘ol Sammy the Scar to decide he wants to put a bullet through your heart.”

  The cat on Micky’s lap was getting restless and decided to hop back onto the floor. I think the cat sensed Micky was getting restless because as soon as it was off his lap Micky was standing up. He pulled his new throwaway phone from his pocket and looked at Abraham.

  “I need to go make a phone call. Can you keep an eye on my lady here?”

  “Hey man, no problem. I’ve got plenty more
stories to keep her entertained.”

  Micky sighed.

  “Oh terrific, just what I need. I was afraid it might get kind of weird or something.”

  Chapter 20

  Micky

  “They came for me at the motel, Jimmy. Fucking Victor and Sal. I left them both breathing but neither are going to feel too good when they finally wake up.”

  I was talking to him on my cell phone from Abraham’s kitchen. I was far enough away that they couldn’t hear me but close enough that I could still see the two of them. Abraham was talking and said something to her that made her throw her head back in a laugh.

  Oh great…

  Although I had to admit I liked the way she looked when she was laughing.

  “Fuck, Micky. Sammy really has a hard-on for you. Although you seem to be motoring through his list of goons pretty quickly. You’ve beaten the shit out of just about all of them.”

  I knew what he was talking about because I had been doing the same math.

  “Just about Jimmy. He maybe has one guy left. The fucking weasel. What’s the story with your old man?”

  I heard the sound of laughter again from the living room and looked up to see Abraham waving his hands in animation to tell whatever story he was telling. He reached out and touched Jackie on the knee and she laughed again. I realized some weird part of me was getting jealous watching the whole exchange.

  At least I thought that was jealousy? It had been a while for that emotion…

  “My old man said he can see you tomorrow night, Micky, you just have to lay low for a while. Where are you now?”

  “We’re somewhere safe, let’s just leave it at that. There is a mole out there somewhere, for all I know your fucking phone line is tapped.”

  “You said ‘we.’ That means you’re still running around with that broad?”

  Jealousy now getting mixed with a little bit of anger over Jimmy calling her a broad. This whole emotion thing was getting weirder and weirder.

  “I’m still with the nurse, yeah. I told you, I’m not letting her go until I take care of Sammy. Sal would have put a bullet in her if I didn’t put my knee through his balls. I have to either talk to your old man or kill Sammy. Or both. But I need to do it soon because this shit is starting to get old.”

  “I hear you, Micky. Why don’t you let me send a car for you guys? Just tell me where you are and I’ll send someone to pick you up and make sure you’re safe.”

  She was petting a cat while listening to Abraham talk. He would probably talk to her all day if I let him. And I could probably watch her sitting petting that cat all day if I let myself. Sweet angel of mercy…

  “I don’t want you sending a car to where we are. Pick a spot and I’ll meet you.”

  I heard him scratching away at something on the other end of the line. Abraham was still waving his arms in the air talking about something, the crazy hippy bastard…

  “How about the Riverside Pier. You know where that place is?”

  “Jesus Christ, Jimmy, could you pick somewhere a little more dramatic?”

  “Micky, you’ve been shooting up half the city. I can’t exactly have someone meeting you on the steps of the fucking public library.”

  Jackie crossed her legs on the couch, which annoyed the cat she was sitting next to. Long, slender legs that I had been between only a couple of hours before. I watched as one of her feet touched the briefcase full of money at the base of the couch.

  “OK, fine. We’ll go to the Riverside to get picked up.”

  “Give me about an hour Micky, OK? I just need to send someone.”

  “Alright Jimmy, thanks. I owe you one.”

  I hit the little red key on my throwaway phone and stuck the phone back into my pocket. Jackie was laughing again. I started walking back into the living room, determined to make sure Abraham didn’t tell her my entire life story.

  “Oh my God, Micky, is it true? You were really the lead in your high school’s musical?”

  Great, this was just what I needed. I gave both of them the Giovani family death stare. It was a look that once got me out of a fight with three men from a rival family without throwing a single punch. It wasn’t working on Jackie and Abraham. Jackie was giggling and Abraham opened his mouth to say something.

  “What show was that again, Micky? I couldn’t remember.”

  Sigh.

  “Fiddler on the Roof.”

  “Oh my God, I adore Fiddler on the Roof, Micky.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Micky, this chick of yours is alright. When are you going to settle down anyway? I think Jackie here would make a perfect Mrs. Steele.”

  “Abraham…”

  “I’m serious. If you’re trying to get out of this mob bullshit anyway—and I think you should—you should find yourself a sweet girl like this and settle down.”

  He wasn’t stopping and Jackie was clearly enjoying herself. She was on the edge of a giggle fit as he prattled on.

  “You’re not getting any younger, Micky. You should be thinking about starting a family.”

  “Abraham thinks we should go to the Maldives, Micky. He said no one would ever look for us there.”

  “Indian Ocean, man, it’s gorgeous there. And I hear they grow a strain of pot there that will just take your breath away…”

  “Great. Look, I’d love to sit here and discuss Broadway show tunes and Jackie and I running away together but I have some pressing shit that I need to deal with and I need to do it kind of quickly. You still have that bedroom safe of yours, you old hippy?”

  “Sure, man. Where do you think I keep my stash?”

  “Fabulous. You mind if I stick my money in there? Oh, and a shirt. Can I borrow a shirt?”

  He nodded his head and a second later I was following him into his bedroom. More flowers, another cat sleeping on his bed, and a peace sign above his bed—classic Abraham. But he wasn’t stupid either. He went into his bedroom closet and moved a rack of clothing and starting dialing numbers into a safe that was hidden in the wall.

  “Where are we going, Micky?”

  I felt her hand on my arm and I turned to look at her.

  “We aren’t going anywhere. You are going to stay here. I’m going to see a couple of guys about catching a ride.”

  Abraham had his safe opened and was shuffling around what looked like a pound of pot. I spun the locks on my own briefcase and entered in my sacred four digit code. The lock returned a satisfying click noise and I placed the briefcase on the bed next to a sleeping cat and flipped open the lid. Jackie gasped because it was the first time she had seen what I was carrying around.

  Five hundred thousand dollars—mostly hundreds, some twenties—tucked into neat little rubber-banded piles. I pulled them out and started shoving them into Abraham’s safe.

  “I don’t understand, Micky. If you’re going to go see the man you need to speak to, why are you leaving your money here?”

  “I have a feeling there is a little information breakdown going on here. Every time I’m told you and I are going to be safe, someone ends up shooting at us. I’m not taking any chances. You can stay here with Abraham, you’ll be safe. I’m going to go catch a ride that I’ve been promised. If I’m wrong then I can come back here for the money.”

  I turned to Abraham. He was staring at his safe but I was pretty sure he was more concerned about his pot than my half million dollars.

  “You have a shirt I can borrow, man?”

  “No problem, dude.”

  I unbuttoned my faithful Hawaiian shirt and turned to see him holding out a orange and yellow tie-dye.

  “That’s a beauty, man, but I was hoping for something a little more inconspicuous. You don’t have something in black by any chance, do you?”

  He looked at me and I could practically see the little light bulb come on over his head. He went back to the closet and a second later he was handing me a black t-shirt. It had a Jerry Garcia logo on the front but it was otherwise perfect.
I pulled it on.

  “You leaving me the Hawaiian, dude?”

  “Not a chance. The Hawaiian shirt is coming with me. Along with the empty briefcase.”

  Abraham’s shoulders sagged, and I knew he was genuinely sorry he was not getting a chance to snag the Hawaiian shirt. It was definitely right in his fashion wheelhouse.

  “Can I borrow your wheels, though?”

  “Anything for you, brother.”

  I watched him leave the bedroom to fetch me his keys. I turned to look at her and realized she had never stopped looking at me. Warm, innocent eyes looking at me, the same eyes I had looked up into waking from a hospital bed not even two days ago. I could get lost in those eyes. Another time, another place…

  “Look Jackie, I’m trying to fix this mess. You never should have gotten caught up in it and for that I apologize. If you guys don’t hear back from me in the next two hours than I want you to get in your car and go straight to the police. Tell them I kidnapped you. Tell them anything you need to in order to clear yourself and make yourself safe again. If you don’t hear back from me in two hours, it probably means no one will ever hear from me again.”

  I was hoping she wouldn’t say anything. It was hard enough already and I didn’t want her to make it worse. She came forward like she was going to say something but she opened her mouth and closed her eyes and I started kissing her like my life depended on it. And in a way it kind of did. I savored the feeling of my tongue in her mouth and the feel of her skin against mine. And then there was the sound of car keys jingling as Abraham came back into the room and we stopped.

  “Aw man, don’t stop on my account. You guys are so cute together. You need a little alone time?”

  “No, we don’t need a little alone time. I need to go for a little ride. Keep an eye on her for me, Abraham. If you guys don’t hear back from me in two hours then all bets are off.”

  Chapter 21

  Jackie

  I watched Micky as he pulled out of the driveway and made his way down the street. I turned to look at Abraham and almost tripped over the Siamese that had been snuggling against my leg. I reached down to pet him once in a silent apology before turning to Abraham.