Authors: Margaret McHeyzer
"Miloni would take out his own flesh to get to me, you know he's fucking crazy. The drugs have screwed his brain up but it’s the power that he wants, that’s driving him."
G walks away as he retrieves his phone. In hushed tones, I suspect he's organising a sit down with Miloni.
Minutes later, as I'm standing outside the restaurant, G walks over and quietly informs me Miloni will meet with me in three hours.
In three hours I’ll come prepared for war with a truly deranged man.
Chapter 13
Standing in the boatshed at the dock, I look around and know full well why Miloni picked this location. First it's quiet, second there's limited opportunities to escape and third, no one can hear you scream. But what Miloni doesn’t know is that the boatshed isn’t on mutual territory, I own it.
I've bought my security and know I’ll be well looked after. G and I both await the tosser to arrive but I’m also under no illusion of how dangerous he can be. I've known for a while that Miloni likes his drugs, ice, to be exact and ice makes people completely irrational. So I know this meeting can go badly, but I’m hoping for the best.
I hear the rumble of a large car approaching; Miloni’s an idiot, showing up with an entourage of idiots. Being a Mob Boss comes with its own set of crucible boiling points. Being escorted by followers who don't blend in, are loud and obnoxious just draws attention to yourself. To the point that anyone wanting to take you down can easily see your weak and disadvantaged areas, I travel with a very well trained group of security. Looking around you may see three or four of them but there're always more hiding and blending in so you'd have no idea who or how many were around.
With Miloni, you can always see the usual defective pinheads who travel in packs to give the illusion of force. It'll only be a matter of time before I take him down, up until now I hadn't really bothered with him, thinking that drugs would eventually claim his life. I'll reassess that after this meeting and see where I stand and if it’s worth me taking him out or if he'll end up wiping himself out.
The SUV roars along as it comes into sight, another two follow behind the lead car and the three park in a perfect straight-line formation. Another idiot move, boxing in the middle car and not turning the cars to face the way they came in order for a possible quick getaway. A few of my men are set up around the boat shed, if I go down, then Miloni will, too.
G and I stand shoulder to shoulder as I wait for Miloni to exit the vehicle.
The door to the middle SUV opens and out steps Miloni, his frame skinny,
too skinny
, his face sunken in, his hair greasy and straggly and his suit falling off him. As he approaches me and is only a few steps away, I notice his face is filled with pocks, his eyes have black circles around them and he's jumpy and darting his eyes around looking like a cornered wounded animal.
"The fuck you want, DeLuca?" His voice broken and scratchy.
"Miloni," I greet him extending my arm out to him for a handshake. He looks down at my hand and smirks but doesn't take it.
"Why you called this?"
"Tell me why you bombed my restaurant?"
"Fuck off bitch, I didn't bomb no restaurant of yours. You’re the fucking cunt that took me men out."
What the fuck?
"Miloni, I haven't touched your men. I'm not after you."
Yet
.
"I know it was you, DeLuca, my people saw your people. That fucker standing next to ya took out my boys."
"You really are a wanker." G says as he turns his back and walks a few steps away. I can tell by G's stance, he's finding it hard to control himself and not kill Miloni right now.
"You fucks. You wanna fuck me over, you wanna do that? I'll fucking kill all of yous."
"Stop inhaling your damn brain away, Miloni, it’s turning into pure mush. Try and retain the tiny sliver you have left." My arms come up and cross in front of me, a defensive yet assertive position as my legs stand hip width apart, I tilt my chin up and my shoulders back, giving Miloni the demeanour of total control and power of this situation.
"Frankie this is bullshit, you've been trying to get me for years. Since your
father
carked it. Useless dick he was."
My fists tighten and I catch a glimpse of G charging towards Miloni, but we need to keep our heads here and not kill him yet, because we need to find who's bombed us and trying to eradicate us. If we kill Peter now, that could start an unnecessary war; I look at G and flick a small shake of my head to him. G stops before he lands on Miloni, effectively going to kill him with his bare hands.
"You say you didn't do this, Miloni, I'm telling you, if I find out you did I'm going..."
"What the fuck’s a chick gonna do to me? You got a cunt, DeLuca, cunts are only good for fucking." He laughs.
I let my hands drop by my side and slowly stroll over to Miloni, his eyes widen and he takes a small step back, obviously he's quite intimidated by me. With a small hand gesture, I keep all my security in place. As I approach Miloni I can smell the rotting and putrid odour radiating from his clothes and his paper-thin translucent drug soaked skin.
"If I find out you're behind this or any other attack against me, Peter, I'm gonna fucking kill your mother. I'm gonna take her,
and I’m gonna let every one of my boys to fuck the hell out of any hole they wanna stick their dicks or anything else they want in her, then I’m gonna let G and his hunting knife gut her from her cunt all the way up to her fucking navel. Just when she's begging me for mercy, I’ll fucking bathe her in gasoline and let the liquid start to eat at her skin, when there’s nothing but flesh left I’ll set fire to her. All as I'm fucking sitting back recording it. But don't worry, Peter, I’ll be sure to have it playing for you as I cuff you to a fucking chair, nail your eyes lids open to your head, so you can watch it on replay. Then I might just kill you, that's if you're lucky and only
if
I'm feeling generous," my voice not wavering, I've got a steady and deadly tone as I look him straight in the eyes.
"Leave my mother out of it." His words low, his breath hitched and his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"
Cunts are only good for fucking
. Try to fuck with me, Miloni and see what this cunt’s capable of doing."
"I'll fucking kill you."
"Damn well try, you washed up junkie."
Miloni starts retreating in his steps. He licks his bottom lip as his face scowls towards me. He snaps his fingers and his ill formed hired help falls back into the SUV's. With a roar of the engines they came in, with a tail between their legs they leave.
"Step up security, keep a tight eye on that piece of shit. He didn't do this but that now leaves us with the unknown, G."
We head back to our cars and I slide into the back seat as G takes his place by my side.
“Now we’ve got a fucking problem on our hands. Miloni didn’t attack us, and we didn’t attack him, which means someone’s trying to get us to wipe each other out. We’ve got a new player on the streets.”
“Yep, that we do.” G’s answers with a grumble.
Chapter 14
Arriving back home G and I head into my office. We aren’t there long when there’s a buzz from the front gates.
“Miss DeLuca, there’s a flower delivery here for you. It’s the same florist as last time.”
I look around my office that still has vases and vases of flowers strewn around. The flowers are still fragrant and in full bloom, so I hope that Jeremy hasn’t gone and emptied another florist to fill my office up again.
“I’ll go, Frankie.” G stands and heads out to collect them. Moments later G returns with one bunch of black roses wrapped in black transparent cellophane.
“What the hell’s that?” I ask as I sit back in my chair and steeple my hands together under my chin.
“Looks like The Senator wasn’t that happy with
your
performance last night, Frankie.” G chuckles as he hands me the flowers that has an envelope pinned to the outside of it.
“Something’s not right with this, G,” the hairs on my arms stand to attention, an icy chill snakes its way down my back and a heavy lump’s sitting in my throat. “Something feels off.”
G snatches the flowers back before I have a chance to open the envelope.
“What are you thinking, Frankie?”
“This isn’t from Jeremy. I can feel it, G, this is fucked. One bunch of black roses straight after Moonrise was bombed? I mean that shit stinks to me.” I pick the phone up and dial Jeremy’s number.
“Who’re you calling?”
“Jeremy. I need to make sure he’s alright.”
The phone rings.
And rings.
And rings.
And goes through to voicemail.
‘Leave a message’
is all I hear of Jeremy’s voice.
“Shit,” I breathe out. Automatically my mind starts to filter all the good and go directly to the bad and possibly even deadly scenarios that may be taking place. “Send security over to Jeremy’s, make sure he’s got a detail on him at all times.”
G’s talking into his phone, shooting instructions out to security about getting over to Jeremy’s and the specifics of a protection detail.
I try The Senator’s phone again.
It rings.
And rings.
And like a few moments ago, it goes through to voicemail.
“Fuck!” I yell and throw the phone, watching it hit the wall and smash into smithereens.
G gets up, walks over to the cabinet, opens it and gets a new phone box out. He picks up the destroyed body and takes the sim card out. I’m pacing around my office as G prepares my new phone.
“What’s the deal with you and this Senator? You were supposed to show his lecherous mother you could get to anyone, have your fun with him then fuck him off. What happened in the meantime, Frankie? You like him?”
“He’s alright.” I casually shrug trying to down play any emotions I have for him.
“Don’t even try and bullshit me, I’ve been here since the day you were born, I can read you like an unlocked fucking kindle. What’s going on with him and you?”
“He’s alright, okay?!”
“No it’s not okay, Frank. It’s not okay if he’s a potential threat to you and to us. It’s not fucking okay if you start chasing him around like a bitch on heat. So tell me now so we can prepare for whatever the fuck’s coming after us, so that he’s not gonna end up being used as bait, and so he doesn’t end up as collateral damage.” G’s angry but he continues preparing my new phone.
“I like him, G, he’s different.”
“Different how?”
“He challenges me, he pushes me, he infuriates the hell out of me, he excites me and most of all he sees past all this bullshit and just sees me.” I wave my hand around the room, indicating all the Mob crap that’s attached to our lifestyle.
“You’ve fucked him, Frankie, he should be out of you system by now.” G walks over and hands me the new phone.
“Do you know what he said to me when we had that picnic the other night?”
G shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head. “Tell me.”
“He said at some stage he knows that either or both of us are going to have to sacrifice something for the other, and he pretty much made it clear that it’s likely going to be him. Who the hell says shit like that, G? I mean, I can destroy him so easily and he’s aware of that, but he’s willing to see past all the crap just so he can be with me. So yeah, I like him. I think he’s amazing and damn gutsy and he’s got a back bone to keep resisting all the bitchiness that comes with me.”
“Well if that’s the case, Frankie, that security team better get over there quick smart.”
“Yep. Now let’s open this letter attached to these damn flowers.”
“Wait, gloves. You don’t know what’s in there.”
G leaves the room and comes back a few minutes later with two pairs of disposable gloves.
Putting them on, we stand over the flowers looking at them like death’s in the envelope, waiting for us to open it so it can claim both our lives.
My heart’s beating rapidly and I look over to G who’s picked the envelope up and puts it on the desk. We look at the front and my name’s written in black pen. It looks like it’s been written by a six year old, there’s a capital F but the rest is scrawled in almost illegible writing. G flips the envelope over, exposing the back of it. It’s not licked down, the flap’s left open and free. G opens the top, exposing a white piece of paper folded inside the standard white envelope. He slides the paper out and unfolds it and the writing’s exactly the same as the penmanship on the front.
‘DeLuca,
Your time to end is near.
Enjoy the last few days you still breathe.
Time to pay for The Senator or BANG.’
I snatch the paper out of G’s hand and reread it. And reread it, and reread it.
When my eyes look at the paper and the words finally register, I stumble back and let go of the letter. The paper like a lone feather curves gently and softly through the air until it finds the floor to stop its travels.
My heart falls from the cavity that houses it, my legs collapse from under me and my body finds the same resting area as the paper.
“What have I done?” I sigh as my hands find my face and moisture runs down through my fingers.
“Frankie, you can’t fall apart. You need to pull yourself together.”
“I’ve killed him.”
“No you haven’t. This isn’t on you, Frankie.”
My new phone pings with an incoming message. I slowly stand to get it as I try to calm myself down with deep breaths. The message is from Jeremy, I exhale a huge sigh of relief knowing he’s alright.
“Jeremy,” I swipe my finger left to right to unlock the screen and click on the new message icon.
It’s not a message from Jeremy.
It’s a picture of Jeremy.
Tied to a chair.
Blind folded.
Beaten.
Slumped back.
Today’s newspaper lies in his lap.
“Fuck,” I show the picture to G who repeats the same word that escaped me. As I look at the picture and try to study the background, my phone vibrates in my hand with another incoming message.