Chapter II
Author's Notes: Thanks for the review Jacky. You'll get to see Vince's past in chapter 4. So hang with me.
"You did good, kid. Real good. You knocked the shit right outta that bastard." Luigi said patting me on the back. "I think I can begin to trust you now, since you've proved you're a real hand and all. There's this girl named Misty who lives down in Hepburn Heights. Go pick her up and drop her off at Joey's Garage in Trenton. And remember, no fuckups, keep your hands on the wheel, and off Misty!"
He turned to walked back inside but stopped. He pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket. "Oh and here's the payment for the last job."
I had gotten a full night's rest last night. Something I hadn't had in awhile. I was fully rejuvenated and brimming with energy. I hopped over the door into my Stallion and took off for Misty's. It didn't take long to find her apartment. Luigi was right, it was in Hepburn Heights. I honked the horn. A few minutes later a red-headed chick came out walking slowly.
When she finally got in the car, she said, "Hey there, are you Luigi's new errand boy. You're kinda cute." I chose to ignore her compliment and drove towards Trenton.
When we arrived at our destination, after what seemed like a long drive with her yapping about how she got in the business and how she was abused by her clients, we got out and walked into the garage. I had just nodded every now and then when she would look at me to see if I was listening.
The garage stunk of gasoline and oil. A short and somewhat plump man was sitting at a counter eating a sandwich. He put it down and walked towards me as he saw us approach.
"Hey baby, when you gonna drill me? My hormones are raging." Misty said gliding her hand across Joey's back.
"I'll be with you in a sec, babe. I gotta talk a little business right now." Misty disappeared into the back room. "Ain't she somethin?" He said, noticing my eyes following her into the room. "Listen, um, Vince? Luigi said to give this to you when you got here." He handed me a wad of cash. "I need a favor from you. There's this guy named Mike eating lunch down at St. Bistros. I've had about enough of that prick. Take his car, an Idaho I think, and get 8-Ball to install a bomb in it. Then park the car where you found it and watch the show. And make it fast; he won't be eating forever."
I exited the garage and took a big whiff of the fresh air and coughed. I don't think "fresh" would be the right word. The air was polluted as much as the sidewalks and streets, and the horizon was a dusty brown.
I was on my way to St. Bistros; I already knew the way. It was up in Saint Mark's. Mafia territory. But I wasn't scared; I was practically working for the Mafia now. When I arrived at the restaurant, I spotted the Idaho parked by itself in the lot. I parked my car a few yards away and got out.
The Idaho was unlocked and ready for my taking. This was just too easy. I backed slowly out of the lot, careful not to hit anything like a car or person. I then made my way to 8-Ball's Bomb Shop. I wonder how he's doing.
The bomb shop was a short ways away. I entered the little garage with my car and 8-Ball came out. His hands were still bandaged.
"Long time no see, brother. Whatcha been up to?"
I shrugged.
"Oh I see how it is. I forgot you weren't one of the talkative types." He said smiling.
I pointed at my risk as if there was a watch there.
"I gotcha man."
About five minutes later I was back on my way to St Bistros. The car I was driving was now fitted with a bomb. I pulled back into the parking lot and got out after I had parked the car. I entered my Stallion and drove out of the lot to hide myself from Mike, and to shield myself from the explosion.
After waiting for a few minutes he finally came out. He was short and fat. He walked slowly down the stairs. I didn't blame him. If I had all that weight on me, I'd be taking my leisurely time too. Not too worry though; he would soon be put out of his misery.
He trudged over to his Idaho and put the key in the door. Then he stopped. What the fuck was he doing?! He began to look around nervously as if looking for someone. Why the hell was he acting like this? Was he always this paranoid?
Then it hit me like a bat out of Hell. I had parked the Idaho in the wrong fucking spot. Shit. He pulled out a cell phone and began to dial a number. Dammit, what was I going to do? I had to take care of this guy. I pulled out my gun and jogged across the street, almost being hit by an old lady in a Perennial. He must have seen me coming because he screamed and dropped the cell to the ground. He pulled out a pistol and began firing wildly. I aimed my gun and fired two rounds into this stomach. His body fell limp to the pavement.
People screamed and ran around like animals waving their hands in the air. I picked up the man's body and quickly dropped it. Damn that thing was heavy. I began to drag him across the street by his legs. I reached the other side of the street to where my car was and threw his dead body over the side of the cliff. I watched it roll down the jagged rocks, pieces of flesh ripping off on the sharp pointed parts of the rocks. He hit the ground in an awkward way, lying on his arm. His clothes were ragged and tattered. I drove away in my speedy blue car, for the police would be here soon after all the commotion.
Author's Notes: Thanks for the review Jacky. You'll get to see Vince's past in chapter 4. So hang with me.
"You did good, kid. Real good. You knocked the shit right outta that bastard." Luigi said patting me on the back. "I think I can begin to trust you now, since you've proved you're a real hand and all. There's this girl named Misty who lives down in Hepburn Heights. Go pick her up and drop her off at Joey's Garage in Trenton. And remember, no fuckups, keep your hands on the wheel, and off Misty!"
He turned to walked back inside but stopped. He pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket. "Oh and here's the payment for the last job."
I had gotten a full night's rest last night. Something I hadn't had in awhile. I was fully rejuvenated and brimming with energy. I hopped over the door into my Stallion and took off for Misty's. It didn't take long to find her apartment. Luigi was right, it was in Hepburn Heights. I honked the horn. A few minutes later a red-headed chick came out walking slowly.
When she finally got in the car, she said, "Hey there, are you Luigi's new errand boy. You're kinda cute." I chose to ignore her compliment and drove towards Trenton.
When we arrived at our destination, after what seemed like a long drive with her yapping about how she got in the business and how she was abused by her clients, we got out and walked into the garage. I had just nodded every now and then when she would look at me to see if I was listening.
The garage stunk of gasoline and oil. A short and somewhat plump man was sitting at a counter eating a sandwich. He put it down and walked towards me as he saw us approach.
"Hey baby, when you gonna drill me? My hormones are raging." Misty said gliding her hand across Joey's back.
"I'll be with you in a sec, babe. I gotta talk a little business right now." Misty disappeared into the back room. "Ain't she somethin?" He said, noticing my eyes following her into the room. "Listen, um, Vince? Luigi said to give this to you when you got here." He handed me a wad of cash. "I need a favor from you. There's this guy named Mike eating lunch down at St. Bistros. I've had about enough of that prick. Take his car, an Idaho I think, and get 8-Ball to install a bomb in it. Then park the car where you found it and watch the show. And make it fast; he won't be eating forever."
I exited the garage and took a big whiff of the fresh air and coughed. I don't think "fresh" would be the right word. The air was polluted as much as the sidewalks and streets, and the horizon was a dusty brown.
I was on my way to St. Bistros; I already knew the way. It was up in Saint Mark's. Mafia territory. But I wasn't scared; I was practically working for the Mafia now. When I arrived at the restaurant, I spotted the Idaho parked by itself in the lot. I parked my car a few yards away and got out.
The Idaho was unlocked and ready for my taking. This was just too easy. I backed slowly out of the lot, careful not to hit anything like a car or person. I then made my way to 8-Ball's Bomb Shop. I wonder how he's doing.
The bomb shop was a short ways away. I entered the little garage with my car and 8-Ball came out. His hands were still bandaged.
"Long time no see, brother. Whatcha been up to?"
I shrugged.
"Oh I see how it is. I forgot you weren't one of the talkative types." He said smiling.
I pointed at my risk as if there was a watch there.
"I gotcha man."
About five minutes later I was back on my way to St Bistros. The car I was driving was now fitted with a bomb. I pulled back into the parking lot and got out after I had parked the car. I entered my Stallion and drove out of the lot to hide myself from Mike, and to shield myself from the explosion.
After waiting for a few minutes he finally came out. He was short and fat. He walked slowly down the stairs. I didn't blame him. If I had all that weight on me, I'd be taking my leisurely time too. Not too worry though; he would soon be put out of his misery.
He trudged over to his Idaho and put the key in the door. Then he stopped. What the fuck was he doing?! He began to look around nervously as if looking for someone. Why the hell was he acting like this? Was he always this paranoid?
Then it hit me like a bat out of Hell. I had parked the Idaho in the wrong fucking spot. Shit. He pulled out a cell phone and began to dial a number. Dammit, what was I going to do? I had to take care of this guy. I pulled out my gun and jogged across the street, almost being hit by an old lady in a Perennial. He must have seen me coming because he screamed and dropped the cell to the ground. He pulled out a pistol and began firing wildly. I aimed my gun and fired two rounds into this stomach. His body fell limp to the pavement.
People screamed and ran around like animals waving their hands in the air. I picked up the man's body and quickly dropped it. Damn that thing was heavy. I began to drag him across the street by his legs. I reached the other side of the street to where my car was and threw his dead body over the side of the cliff. I watched it roll down the jagged rocks, pieces of flesh ripping off on the sharp pointed parts of the rocks. He hit the ground in an awkward way, lying on his arm. His clothes were ragged and tattered. I drove away in my speedy blue car, for the police would be here soon after all the commotion.