The Golden Goose of Los Angeles Extended Edition

by Travis Adams Irish

as more bullets easily tear through Herb’s body and traverse the hallway at 1,000 feet per second. He winces in pain and turns away as a piece of bullet or bone strikes his right cheek. After the chaos settles and he hears the dry firing of an empty pistol, Anthony gets to his feet, holding his right cheek and feeling the searing pain of heat and warm blood streaming down his face.

 

  “Rory, it’s okay,” Pezzloni says with a hushed fury, “he’s dead, you can stop firing.” After the gun goes silent, he watches Rory pull himself out from under Herb’s body, covered from head to toe in blood and small pieces of flesh. “Are you guys okay?” He asks, turning to look at both Rory and Dimitri, before reaching down to help Dimitri to his feet.

 

  “He was trying to hurt Kelly!” Rory shouts helplessly, as he curls up in a ball on the floor with the pistol still in his hand. “He was going to kill Kelly.”

 

  “Are you okay?” Anthony asks Dimitri again.

 

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Dimitri says with a stunned expression, looking at the mess in the hallway, and then turning his attention to Anthony’s face. “Your face; you took a hit!” Dimitri observes frantically.

 

  “Don’t worry about me” Anthony orders with an angry gaze, “just get this cleaned up while I help him to the shower.”

 

  Anthony and Dimitri immediately go into damage control mode. Teddy would be home from his short golf vacation by morning, and it will take a lot of work to button up the details so that the story flows in their favor.

 

  In the hallway, Dimitri begins by wrapping up the body in plastic and setting down dozens of towels to soak up the pools of blood. Meanwhile, Anthony helps Rory into the shower with his boxers still on, being a bit a forceful, as the younger man is still emotional from having killed someone so intimately. Once Rory is in the shower, Anthony cranks on the warm water and hands him a bar of soap. Then he fishes frantically in the cupboards for a moment, and comes back up with: cotton balls, alcohol, and a sewing kit. He quickly feeds some thread through the eye of the needle and ties it off, then sets it on the white marble bathroom vanity. Next, he leans closer to the bathroom mirror, using the cotton balls and alcohol to clean the wound, simultaneously annoyed and thrilled at the pain.

 

  “Make sure you wash all the blood off, Rory,” Pezzloni instructs as he pushes the head of the needle through the bottom of his wound.

 

  He moves the needle in and out of his skin with military precision, sewing up the three inch gash that resembles the forked tongue of a snake, before cutting the thread and tying it off at the end. At this point he applies a gauze bandage to his face, then hands Rory a towel and moves to the downstairs living room to pour himself a drink. Anthony carries the drink to his expensive Italian leather sofa and sits back with his eyes closed, taking a manly swig of alcohol as he starts working on a way to control the narrative for this incident. Chandler will have more than a few questions about how his brother died in the Pezzloni Estate.

 

  The following morning, Anthony wakes Rory up early and insists that he join him in the gym for some exercise. After a bit of arguing, Rory finally agrees to join him in the gym on the second floor.

 

  A few minutes later, the two men are starting their cardio workouts. Rory is running on the treadmill in blue shorts and a black tank top and Anthony is right behind him on the cross trainer wearing black shorts and a white tank top.

 

  “How are you feeling today?” Pezzloni asks as beads of sweat run down from his salt and pepper hair.

 

  “I’m doing.” Rory says, clearly not wanting to talk.

 

  “Look, you know what happened last night was self-defense, right?” Pezzloni asks with somewhat shallow breath, wiping his face with a clean white towel.

 

  “How was that self-defense? I shot him in the back while he was walking away.” As they begin discussing the murder like a football game, Rory feels his stomach becoming sick.

 

  “Some men would say that defending your family is a matter of self-defense. You thought he was going to kill Kelly, and you defended yourself.” Pezzloni states with fervent pride.

 

  On the treadmill, Rory begins to feel dizzy and he hits the emergency stop button, dropping to his knees as soon as the rubber conveyor stops moving. He holds himself up on all fours, hovering over the rubber surface of the treadmill with an open mouth, and then he vomits mostly water. In response to this, Anthony shuts down the cross trainer and moves over by Rory’s side to help him up from the treadmill.

 

  “I want you to have some fun tonight; like you did when you first got here,” Pezzloni says in a friendly tone as he pulls Rory up and pats him on the back. “Tina was saying that she wanted to see you tonight when I saw her at the pool yesterday. She said that she misses your personality and is down to do whatever you feel like.” He stops speaking and grabs Rory by the shoulders. “That’s one hell of an offer if you ask me… I want you to shake off this depressing shit and chalk it up as self-defense. You won, he lost, end of story. Understood?”

 

  “How did he know about Kelly?” Rory asks with confusion. “Who the hell was that guy?”

 

  “He was an enforcer for our New York syndicate,” Pezzloni says slowly. “The guy must have been infected with some disease and decided to try and force you to cure him. You know, like all the others?”

 

  Rory nods his head reluctantly, then turns and grabs his towel as he prepares to clean up the vomit.

 

  “What the hell are you doing? Just leave it,” Pezzloni orders, “I’ve got people for that. But before you go, promise me one thing,” Anthony demands, standing in front of Rory blocking his way out of the private gym. “Promise me that you will spend tonight with Tina and that you’ll have fun!? You’re still a young man; get a piece of ass, and SHAKE THIS SHIT OFF!”

 

  Rory forces a smile and nods, still feeling sick from what took place less than twelve hours ago. Despite how he is feeling, the idea of using a date to help put the nightmare behind him sounds good, and he gives Tina a call as soon as he gets to his room.

 

  Later that evening, Rory finds himself lying in bed with Tina. His door is locked and they are both naked, drinking from a bottle of Grey Goose that she bought for this occasion. He smiles up at her perfect face and high cheekbones, wondering how he could be so lucky. Tina’s blonde hair is pulled up in a fashionable loop around her head, delicately styled to perfection. Her bright blue eyes are looking down at him with an intense desire, and she bites her lower lip, indicating that she is ready. As they begin to kiss, he starts feeling aroused, using his hands to explore the curves of her soft body.

 

  “Thank you for coming over,” Rory says with a relaxed smile.

 

  “I’m glad you called, my Sister’s husband died last week, and the only memory she has of him is their last fight because they hadn’t made love in between. I thought that was awful.” Tina says with a sweet, girly voice, looking down at his body.

 

  “That is awful,” Rory says with sincerity, and more than a hint of ulterior motivation.

 

  “Do you think we can make up for their lost time?” Tina asks, reaching under the blanket and delicately stroking his member.

 

  “Yes,” he replies in an eager voice.

 

  “Yessss,” she agrees moving aggressively forward, pushing his head down on the pillow.

 

  As his head gets jolted a bit, he instantly remembers a flash of being struck by a gun the other night. His stomach suddenly feels sick as vi
sions of being awakened from his sleep with violent blows to the head become fresh and real again. He freezes up and his face turns a pale color as he stares off into the distance, remembering how he ran out into the hallway wearing only his boxer shorts and fired the pistol into the man’s back over and over again.

 

  “Whoa, what’s wrong, baby?” She asks as she reaches between his legs.

 

  “It’s just the Vodka. Don’t worry about it. Just give me a second.” He closes his eyes, trying to take more relaxing breaths so he can put these visceral images out of his mind.

 

  Tina suddenly dives below the covers like a woman on a mission, putting her head between his legs and using her mouth and tongue with great enthusiasm.

 

  “Stop, stop! Please stop,” he says, pulling her mouth off of him and sliding down the bed so he can look her in the eye. “I can’t do this tonight. This just isn’t a good night for sex, but we can lay here together and relax… or I can take care of you?”

 

  “No, it has to be tonight!” she exclaims, feeling suddenly anxious as she reaches down and starts stroking his flaccid member. “Shit, baby, it has to be tonight, come on and do this for momma’. I need that money!”

 

  “Whoa, timeout!” Rory says with his eyes staring directly into hers as he pulls her hand away from his member. “What do you mean you need the money? What money?”

 

  “That’s not what I said,” she lies to him with a plastic smile. “I said I need that cock!”

 

  “No you didn’t.” Rory disagrees with a suspicious sneer. “You need the money for what?”

 

  “You’re acting kind of weird and aggressive, I think