Page 222 of Marcello

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

Lines of blood sprayed across the sidewalk.

Greasy collapsed to the ground, but Romeo continued to beat him.

Pimply had been rolling around on the ground screaming and clutching his leg. He apparently recovered enough to reach one hand into his waistband.

“ROMEO!” I shrieked.

Romeo turned around and pointed the pistol he’d taken from Greasy directly at Pimply’s forehead.

Pimply froze as he stared up at the gun barrel –

And then Romeo kicked him in the side of the jaw as hard as he could, like he was kicking a soccer ball.

CRACK!

Pimply tried to scream, but it came out as a gurgled cry.

Then Romeo lifted his foot and stomped his heel in the guy’s face.

SNAP!

I didn’t know if the noise was Pimply’s nose or his jaw breaking –

But his face was suddenly gushing blood across the concrete.

Romeo reached down, took the gun out of Pimply’s waistband with his left hand –

And then walked away.

Greasy was unconscious on the ground, his face a Halloween mask of bloody gashes.

Pimply looked almost as bad as he writhed on the ground and screamed in agony.

As Romeo walked over to me, he had a gun in each hand.

“Come on,” he said.

When I didn’t move – I was too stunned – he hissed, “Come ON!”

That time, I moved.

Romeo pocketed one gun, then used his suit jacket to start wiping down the second.

When he finished cleaning off his fingerprints, he tossed it through a grate in the gutter. I heard it splash in the sewer.

Romeo pulled out the other gun, quickly wiped it down, and tossed it in after the other.

Then he reached out to me –

But there was blood on his hand and face, and I recoiled.

When he saw my reaction, he looked at his hand and withdrew it.