The Union by Tremayne Johnson

face of tears a second time and watched Tamika as she rocked back and forth in the cushy, leather seat and prayed. He pressed the gun to her head. “Who set this shit up? Who was you wit!?”
     
    She never stopped rocking, but mumbled, “I don’t know.”
     
    “Bitch!” He pressed harder against her temple with the weapon. “Stop lying to me!”
     
    “I swear I’m not lying.” Through cries, she tried to explain. “All they told me was the time they would be there and how much they were going to pay me. When he came in…” her breathing was erratic. “I was in the bathroom.” she continued to rock. “Please God, don’t let him kill me. I’m sorry. I swear. I’m sorry…”
     
    “You can get down on your knees and pray to the heavens above and ask God for whatever it is you want, but until you believe in those words, the only thing you doing is wasting your breath.”
     
    The barrel jumped back and the slug pushed Tamika's head to the passenger seat window. Her brains decorated the glass.
     

    Mox reached over, snatched the ten thousand dollar Tiffany necklace off her neck, pushed her body from the truck and left her on the side of road in the middle of Virginia.

 

     

     
    EIGHT
     

     
    Vito's Bar & Grill - White Plains, New York
     

     
    The doorbells jingled as Cleo entered the dimly lit restaurant. Delicate sounds of Frank Sinatra whispered at a low tone and the intoxicating aroma of sausage and peppers soaked the air. Cleo always smiled when he stepped into Vito’s because he knew he would get a good meal.
     
    He waved and greeted the aged white guy behind the long, oak wood bar. “Tony, what’s goin’ on?”
     
    “Nothin’ much, Cleo. Good to see ya.” He replied.
     
    “Same here.”
     
    Cleo continued to the back, acknowledging the few patrons scattered throughout the restaurant eating and drinking. He spotted Vito sitting in a booth at the rear with two females. “Excuse me, ladies. Vito my man, what’s good?”
     
    Vito excused himself from the table, shook Cleo’s hand and they walked over to a different booth.
     
    “Mox went too far this time, Cleo.” He took a seat. “I might not be able to save you guys on this one.” Vito hissed.
     
    “Save us, from what?”
     
    “C'mon, Cleo yous know how the rules go. Supreme was like a made guy. I mean, he ain't family or nuttin' like that, but yous can't just go whackin' off any and everyone yous please. It's structure here.”
     
    Cleo laughed and sipped his water. “Structure, huh?” He stared with unconcern at the man sitting across the table from him. “You wanna know what I think, Vito? I think you’re full of shit, but hey,” he shrugged his shoulders. “that's just my opinion, right?”
     
    Vito's blood seethed and his body language revealed his distaste. The nerve of this nigger, walking in here, talking to me like that , he thought. “Cleo, your filthy mouth is gonna get you inna a lot of trouble, I tell ya.”
     
    Cleo smiled. “We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
     
    Cleo meant that too. He didn't fear the Italians at all. He was willing to go head up with anyone in the way, and the Telesco crime family was not exempt.
     
    Vito Telesco was third in rank, which would make him Capo under the hierarchy. His older brother, Mikey T is Underboss and their father, Vinny is the boss.
     
    Vito's Bar & Grill was also a front for an underground casino that operated from midnight til’ 5am. The walls were made of brick, the ceilings, a dark tin and Christmas trimmings hung all year ‘round. Rather than booking reservations, Vito designated tables to regular customers once a week. Privileges were allotted depending not on monetary heft or G status, but for the most part, on loyalty. Nowhere else could a person own a table like a condominium.
     
    Only a select few are admitted and those few are well-known and respected. Most of them came to Vito's to conduct business that couldn’t be handled in