Trapped in his End Game (Series)

Lost. Gone. Abandoned.

Staring at her empty car is like looking at her skeleton. Furious tears wrack from my throat when we find it.

“Kill him! I’ll rip his fucking throat out! It’s Nathan! Nathan-that fucking piece of shit-he did it. He must have followed her after she left.”

I tear my voice screaming. My shouts ring through the air as I look at Jessica’s car. It’s as if we found her body. Joe paces around the abandoned car, glancing inside for clues. Her car was found only a few miles away from her apartment. Ben, the guy tasked with finding her, gives me an anxious look. Then Joe looks up over the car tentatively. His fear squeezes the breath from my lungs.

“No. No! She’s not dead! She’s not fucking dead!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he says in that unnaturally calm voice.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Calm the fuck down,” he snaps. “He obviously wanted us to find her car-”

“Or he thinks I’m dead.”

My face burns as Joe stares at me from behind the car. He walks towards me, the blank look on his face frightening me until he grabs my arm, moving in close to me.

“Jamie will know what happened by now. He’ll know that his soldiers failed. It’s possible it was fed down the grapevine to your brother.”

“Why the hell would he do that?”

“Because he wants you dead.”

“Then wouldn’t he ambush us here?”

He opens his mouth impatiently, but a frantic buzzing in his jacket stops him. His hand dives in his jacket and pulls out the slim, black phone. “This is Joe.” Then his voice dips to a low hiss. “Who?”

He presses the speakerphone before I can make a sound.

The voice that crackles through the speaker is tightly coiled, trembling with violence.

“It’s Jamie Tucci.”

“What the fuck do you want?”

“You and that cunt will meet us at Giovanni’s. You will come alone.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I want to do that.”

“You’ll come or I’ll slice open that pretty little neck of hers right after I stick my fat cock up her twat.”

The muscles in my back quiver.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I am getting my fucking revenge. You whacked four made men without consulting Carmine-”

Joe gives him a derisive laugh. “Fuck you and fuck Carmine. You dumb shits got busted by the feds. You fucking deserve it. I heard they wiretapped all those VIP rooms.”

I’m so furious with Joe, I want to explode. Instead, I kick his shin and he winces.

“You want me to kill this bitch? Here. I’ll let her talk to you.”

A high-pitched wail echoes into the speaker. “Please, no. Please!” The voice dissolves into uncontrollable sobbing.

It’s her.

It’s my little sister.

Tears well in my eyes and I grab the phone. “Leave her alone, you sick son of a bitch!”

“Ah, Ms. Toffoli, so good to hear your voice. Come alone. If I get a whiff of any of those other Vittorio assholes, I’ll kill her.”

The phone suddenly darkens before I can scream a protest. Joe snatches it from my hand. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“What are we going to do?”

Ben uncrosses his arms. “You can’t go there alone.”

He jerks his head. “I know.”

My voice rises into a shriek. “Did you not hear him? He’ll kill her if he finds out we brought anyone with us.”

He takes my shoulders and shakes them. The blood rushing to my head gives me a dizzy spell and I slump in his arms.

“Marisa, you need to trust me on this. If we go over there alone, it’ll be the same as me taking out a gun and killing ourselves now. It’s the fucking same, and your sister will be dead, too.”

Anger burns my stomach like coffee on an empty stomach, and for a moment I hate him for telling me the cold, hard truth.

“Then what should we do?”

Suicide mission or not, I’m going there. If there’s a chance to save my little sister, I’m taking it no matter how small.

JOE

How the fuck are we going to survive this?

To be honest, I don’t expect to survive this night. I don’t even expect her sister to be alive when we get there, but how can I tell her that when she looks at me like I’m going to save the fucking day and make everything all right? She’s whistling to herself in the car to some vague children’s song that I kind of recognize.

Whistling.

Who the fuck whistles at a time like this?

She’s all la-dee-dah and I’m pissing my pants about this suicidal mission.

I grind my teeth so hard that I’m sure she can hear it. “What are you doing?” I ask finally.

Marisa turns her small face toward me. There are red streaks down her face and my stomach clenches.

“I’m trying to keep it together.”

Fuck.

I link my hand with hers and drive the car, shaking my head.

The plan is simple. Vince and the others will show up in the subways a couple blocks from the restaurant, which is fucking risky enough. Too many cops patrol the metro. If any of them are frisked, the whole plan is fucked.

They won’t expect us to show up alone. I brought a piece, even though it’ll be taken from me.

Then Vince and the others will have to subdue every guard he’s got without alerting Jamie, and save our asses before he fucking kills us both.

Stupid fucking plan.

We’ll both be fucking shot the moment we step through the door.

“You need to be prepared for the fact that we might not make it out of there alive. She might be dead already.”

She inhales a sharp gasp. “Don’t say that, Joe.”

“You need to hear it.”

Newark’s shitty streets roll by my window. Broken streetlights cover the crumbling sidewalk in darkness, where bedraggled men sleep over filthy blankets.

She reflexively grabs my arm. “You don’t have to do this. Seriously. I can go in there alone-”

“I’m going with you. I’ll always go with you.”

Her eyes slowly fill with tears as I park the car on the street right across from the restaurant. I didn’t notice anyone on the streets on the way there, and I send a quick text to Vincent. They might be hidden on the rooftops.

A grinning man taps on the passenger side window with his gun. I have to stop myself from taking out the gun buried in my waist. Marisa shakily grabs the handle and opens the door. I follow suit.

Here we fucking go. I hope Vince is at the subway stop.

He smirks. “Came alone, did you?”

I give him a withering glare as he pats me down, finding the gun I’ve strapped to my waist. His hand pats me down dangerously close to my dick. “Easy around the goods, asshole.”

Like I’d hide a gun near my dick.

He takes the gun strapped to my leg, and shoves it into his pocket. “I don’t know why you bothered.”

He lifts my shirt and finds the concealed knife. Then he runs his fucking filthy hands all over my girl and finds all of her shit, too.

We’re completely naked without the weapons. My heart hammers hard against my chest as he walks us to the restaurant. Everything inside me screams not to go.

Get the fuck out of here, this is suicide!

It’s funny how only a couple months ago, I would have done this without a second thought. I didn’t give a fuck about my life, or anyone else’s. Now that I’m close to ending my life, my heart beats faster and faster, determined to keep me alive. This is wrong. We shouldn’t do this. Vince was right, it’s absolutely fucking nuts.

But I walk in there anyway.

I must the dumbest asshole in the world.

The restaurant looks like a haunted house. Jamie Tucci never bothered to patch up the holes, or fix up anything. Probably because he got more business that way.

Marisa’s arm shivers next to me as we step inside, the asshole’s gun prodding my back. There’s a guard on either side of the door, and they keep a careful watch outside. I see a few in the back of the restaurant, guarding the kitchens.

“Keep away from the windows,” Vincent told me. “Just in case.”

Just in case he decides to rush the fucking place, guns blazing. It was hard enough convincing Jack not to do exactly that.

Then I see something that makes my stomach drop.

The asshole brings us to a door leading down into the basement.

This is it. This is where we’re going to die.

Fine, then.

She walks ahead of me, gripping the wooden railing as we walk down. My nose twinges. The smell of gasoline saturates the air. Her nose scrunches together as she notices the same thing and another swell of fear expands in my chest. I feel cold all over.

There in a midst of old pots and pans and used appliances, Jamie Tucci stands next to Nathan. Jessica sits in a corner, her hair and clothes strangely wet and a foul odor wafting from her body. Duct tape covers her mouth but her eyes stare out, livid with fear.

Jamie looks off. His slacks are wrinkled and his hair is unkempt. Beside him, Nathan looks calm, still wearing that splint on his nose. I suppress the urge to give him a gloating smile.

Marisa trembles with rage. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

A slow smile spreads on her brother’s face. “The same thing I’m going to do with you.”

Jesus. Oh, fucking God.

Someone grabs her from behind and wraps a rope around her hands. I stand still, my muscles screaming to act.

You can’t just fucking let them do this to her.

But there’s a gun digging into my back.

“What’s the fucking point of this? What are you hoping to accomplish, here?”

“I’m getting all the shares of my company. Yours. Jessica’s. I want them all. I was willing to share the business with you, but you pushed me too far.”

Her face crumples in agony and my fists tremble.

Please, please hit me so I can beat the shit out of you.

“Well that’s too fucking bad, because I had my will specifically name someone else in the event of my death, and it’s not either of you.”

His eyes flash. “You’re lying.”

Marisa’s wild laughter rebounds in the cavernous basement. “You think I sat tight with my thumb up my ass after you tried to choke me to death? No, I met with our attorney and made the changes. Even if you kill both of us, you still won’t be the major shareholder. You’ll never be.”

He makes a violent movement towards her, but Jamie places a hand on his arm. “No matter. All we have to do is find who the prick is.”

“You’ll never find who it is. Ever.”

His teeth shine. “Well, I’d like to see you say that again with a vice crushing your skull.”

Her mouth trembles, her fists white behind her back. I seriously doubt she had the time to do everything she said she did, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is whether her brother believes it.

A whimpering noise suddenly snaps my attention. Jessica sits up straighter and bends over, her stomach rippling as she tries to retch from the gasoline fumes, but the tape prevents anything from coming out. I take a step towards her, but Nathan blocks my path.

“She’s going to choke.”

“That’s the idea.”

Fury boils my insides as I stare at this dead-eyed prick. All those months I spent mourning my sister, and this piece of shit wants to kill both of them. I just can’t fucking conceive of doing this to my own sister. It’s too evil. Too fucked up.

“Nathan, stop this!”

Marisa’s horrible screams ring in my ears. The guy tying her arms yanks her backwards.

“You know, even I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come alone. I’m glad you did, though. Makes my job so much easier.”

The slimy asshole has no idea what’s coming for him.

“You’re a fucking disgrace. It’s your fault that your crew got pinched, not Jack’s, and not hers. Be a fucking man and admit it. Don’t take it out on her.”

“I’m doing this to kill as many of you New York assholes as I can. As for these girls, I’ll get a fat payout from them once they’re gone. It’s nothing personal.”

They laugh with one another as the thug grabs my arms and ties me to a support pole. He uses one of those zip ties around both my wrists, linking them both. He grins as he picks up a red gas can, which sloshes with liquid. Then he hurls it at me. Yellowish liquid splashes all over my clothes, the putrid fumes making me gag. He does the same to Marisa.

Jesus, we’re all going to burn to death.

A sound from upstairs makes my heart leap with hope. The rat-at-tat of gunfire sprays through the restaurant, and I imagine Jamie’s men dropping down, one by one. Jack won’t stop until every one of them is dead.

His eyes lift towards the ceiling.

“You’re not going to make it outside this building.”

The basement echoes with the clipping sound of his shoes and Marisa’s sobbing.

“I’ll survive. I always do.”

Then he reaches inside his pocket and produces a slim, black lighter.

Snap.

His thumb strikes the wheel and a brilliant, small flame burns in the basement. The whole basement reeks of gasoline-he’s fucking crazy. He holds a rag soaked in gasoline and lights it. It’s submerged in flames, and then he tosses it in Jessica’s direction.

“NO!”

Ear-splitting screams pierce my brain as the floor erupts in flames. Jessica shrinks against the wall as the heat grows on the floor. Even I can feel it on my legs. I strain against the zip ties and Jamie laughs, coughing slightly as he hurtles up the stairs along with Nathan.

Marisa screams for help, and I’m trying to think of a way to get us out. With all the gunfire upstairs, I doubt anyone will hear our cries for help.

I strain my muscles against the zip ties, wincing as the cut deeply into my arm. I’ll never be able to force them open. Think. What else? I can cut it open.

The pole I’m attached to feels old, with hundreds of jagged edges. I tune out the smoke, heat, and screaming, and I move my wrists up and down over a rough spot. Flames leap over the walls and Jessica slumps against it, overcome with the black smoke.

Harder.

Acrid smoke burns my lungs, burns the air. Fuck, it’s hard to think.

I’ve got to get out.

I drag that zip tie over the jagged edge as hard as I can. The threads snap apart and I almost pitch forward as my hands break free. Holy shit, I did it.Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

I stumble forward. There’s a line of fire separating me and Marisa from Jessica. Flames dance over her clothes. Shit. I can’t stay conscious much longer.

“Save her!”

But I can’t. My clothes are soaked in gasoline and if I jump through that wall of fire, I’m fucked. I untie Marisa and ignore her screams for me.

“Joe, save her first! SAVE HER FIRST!”

Once freed, she runs towards the back of the basement to get something long and red. Fire extinguisher. Fuck, that won’t help against a fire this big.

I tear my soaked shirt from my body and Marisa sprays the extinguisher towards the fire, clearing a small path for me. There’s blackness all around Jessica’s mouth. I run into the heat and grab her wrists, pulling her out. I loop an arm around her waist and we climb up the stairs. The way is all black. Black, acrid clouds billow towards the door. She bursts through and I feel the heat at my back.

We burst into a storm of gunfire. She helps me pull Jessica into the kitchen and I tear the duct tape from her lips. Bullets smash into the plaster behind us, and I realize we’ve run directly into Jamie’s crew. Marisa jumps on Jessica’s chest, giving her compressions. My hands slip on the tiled floor. Blood. It’s still warm. Is it mine?

A loud, crashing sound sends my heart beating fast. I lunge towards the sound, tripping over something solid. A body. There’s a metallic glimmer near his hand. I grab it, the heavy weight giving me instant comfort. A man in a suit rises over the cook’s station. He has a gun. Aim. Shoot. I fire the gun at his chest and look away before he drops. There’s another one. Crack.

“Get the fuck out!”

I fire towards the oily voice, near the red, glowing exit. Jamie slips through the door, along with Marisa’s fucking brother.

Damn it.

“JOE!” A deep voice booms from front of the restaurant. “Where are you?”

“HERE!”

There are flames crawling all over the walls of the restaurant, now. Jessica sits up next to Marisa, looking traumatized but otherwise all right. Marisa’s tear-streaked face turns towards me.

“Find him, Joe. Find him and kill him.”

As soon as Vince rounds the corner, I streak towards the exit with my gun. My lungs gratefully breathe in the crisp air. There are men fleeing everywhere, but I’m just looking for one.

Nathan’s blond hair shines in the night. His long legs sprint down the street, heading towards his car. A murderous rage fills my limbs with energy. I lope after him aiming the gun as I run. Crack. Crack.

Both smash into the pavement, clouds of dust bursting in the air. He turns around and sees me, and then he raises his hand. The muzzle flashes, and I dive to the side, but he’s such a horrible shot that it explodes four feet to my right. I stop, aim, and fire.

Nathan stumbles.

I got the fucker.

My feet pound the pavement and just before I reach his body, a surge of hatred sears against my chest and another round explodes into his back. I kick the gun away from his hand, and it scatters down the street.

It doesn’t satisfy me to see him bleeding on the street. I want to see his face when that last flicker of light dies from his eyes. Using one leg, I flip his body over. His face is a mask of blood as he flips over. He groans and spits out a stream of dark blood.

“What the fuck is it with you and my sister? Does her pussy really taste that good?”

The degrading filth coming from his mouth makes me want to use my gun to smash his teeth. Instead, I fire my gun into his thigh. Nothing fatal, but it’ll make his death more painful. He screams and screams and screams.

“If you had shown your sister a little bit of respect, you wouldn’t be dying right now. I’m going to enjoy watching you die. Take your time. I’m in no hurry.”

That seems to rouse him, even while blood spills from his thigh. “Fuck you. You’re nothing but a goddamn thug. A lapdog.”

“At least I’m not dead.”

He flinches and screams as another shot sinks into his throat. His head slams back, and his mouth makes a gurgling sound as he chokes on his blood.

How fitting.

I step closer, watching him clutch his throat, struggling to breathe. Fucking asshole wanted his sister to choke to death, and now he’ll get to feel what it’s like. His round eyes search and stare. I wonder what he’s looking for. I wonder what Janice thought of before she died. His red mouth gapes, his face turns blue as his eyes bloom with blood, and then they stop moving.