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They're all really slow so I pull my gun and point it at Rocco. "Stop and back the fuck up."
They freeze. How the hell did this happen? I can understand why Rocco wants revenge, but why did Vaughn set me up?
"Back the fuck up!"
They don't move but their eyes look over my shoulder. Oh shit.
A blunt force knocks me down from behind, and my head thumps the ground. Rocco runs up and stomps on my hand. Ow fuck! He kicks my gun to the side and what feels like five guys come down on my back. Jesus. I can't even turn around. Blows land on my sides, legs, face. Shit. Everywhere. Someone is whaling on my head. Fuck. Ignoring all the pain, I force the weight on me to shift, and I'm able to side kick atleast one of them off me. My fist nails someone in the balls and he grunts and disappears. There's still at least two guys, but it's so hard to see.
"Hold him down."
Who the hell is that?
I keep fighting. I'm not down yet. Never give up.
I'm at the bottom of a pile up, but I will always fight my way out. I hear yelling and scuffling as I'm returning blows to anyone who comes at me.
"Enough! Hold him down!"
Like six sets of knees pile drive down on my ass, and I'm flattened to the filthy earth face down. The punching stops, but unbearable pressure pins down my arms and legs. I'm immobilized. Shit. Who the fuck is doing this? Rocco's big-ass knee is right on my neck, and I'm staring up at his crotch. I shoulda disabled the dickwad when I had the chance.
I hear his shoes before I see him come into view. Fucking Vaughn Bianchi with a gun pointed at my head. Shit.
"Impressive," he says to me.
"What the fuck, Vaughn? You jumping me in?" Is this my initiation into his stupid crime organization?
"This is part of it. You passed the first test." He's smirking down at me, finger on the trigger. He's wearing a suit when all the other guys are in street clothes. They all work for him?I had no idea he had so many soldiers. They're laughing and talking shit with their knees and hands holding me down.
"Get them the fuck off me."
"I got another test for you," he says calmly, like he's not some deranged Mafia wannabe.
"Not interested, Vaughn."
"Oh you're not? I guess you don't want Mila then?"
Oh shit. This is about Mila. "What about her?"
"I know you've been screwing her. Been watching you two sneak around thinking I'm not watching. I watch every damn thing she does, and I know you're using her."
"I'm not using her."
"You're a fucking pig." His voice raises and he spits the words at me. He's got himself all worked up thinking I'm a cop?
"I'm not a cop." I push against the weight on me, but they've settled in now, grinding knees into my joints and back. "Get these assholes off me."
"I knew you were a pig from day one. Who else but a cop would take my daughter down into a wine cellar in my own home during a storm? Only a stinking cop would do that to get info out of her."
"Bullshit. I'm not a fucking cop." I scream it as loud as I can. He needs to hear me.
"Who are you working for?"
"No one butyou, asshole."
"Right. I figured you'd say that. Let me guess, you want Mila?" He sneers and sways the guns back and forth.
"Yes." I'm having trouble breathing, but I can get that out. "I want her."
