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“It’s him, isn’t it?” I hear the terror in his voice. “He’s the guy…”
I feel someone pull back on my cut, and I glance around. Cash.
“Y’all hit?”
I shake my head. “Forger’s dead.”
“Yeah, I saw. About fuckin’ time.”
“Harlem got him?”
“Yep. Couldn’t risk havin’ him escape. He might never resurface again.”
Cash fires as the Italians duck for cover. I have to say, for a big guy, Big Papa is certainly light on his feet and he’s a good shot.
“Cash,” I start as we keep low. “Salerno…the underboss, he’s…he’s the guy who…”
I can’t even say the words.
“Wasn’t plannin’ on the underboss bein’ here, or the Italians,” Cash grumbles. “But it is what it is.”
“No,” I start again, unable to form words.
“Spit it out.” Cash reloads his gun. “Gotta make sure every fucker here tonight is fuckin’ gone.”
“He…he’s the one who molested us,” I say as my eyes meet Cash’s.
He frowns. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Salerno Caruso?”
I nod. I’ve no words.
“Are you…”
“I’m sure.”
Cash’s eyes darken. His entire demeanor changes. “He’s a dead man.”
I swallow hard, my head hasn’t stopped spinning this whole time.
I can’t fuckin’ do this. I can’t…
“You want him dead, or captured?” Priest cuts in.
I turn to Jett, and we both say, “Dead,” at the same time.
Cash stands and, in a moment of absolute madness, he surges forward, shooting as he goes. Men are flying this way and that as I see Harlem, Tag, Bronco, Nevada, JJ, and Hawk coming up from the rear. If anyone escapes tonight and sees what we did, we’re all dead.
I flag Cash, Jett, and Priest as Big Papa’s men circle behind, some dead, some still standing. It’s a mess.
Salerno makes it to the car, but two of his men covering his side go down.
Holy fuck.
Salerno turns, a gun in his hand as he points at Cash. Cash is faster, running toward him as he sprays the man with bullets. “Motherfucker!” he screams. Salerno’s eyes go wide as he drops his gun, slumping back against the car door as we surround him.
