“Do you remember how he screamed?” he inquires as I place the briefcase on the floor and lean down to begin counting. An iron rod of tension moves through me. Fergal spots it, sniggers, and goes on. “The big bad don of the De Maggio crime Family, screaming like a coward. You got lucky that day, Carlo. You all did.”
If Hazel wasn’t here, I would leap at him now, even if I figure I’d end up dead. But one look at Hazel and I pause. She’s pale and clearly frightened, but she doesn’t let it show. There’s a gag in her mouth, but she sits up straight, shoulders back, more like a princess on a dais than a prisoner.
I start spreading the cash out on the floor. Then I realize something. This won’t work if I can’t drop a bundle.
I stand up, clicking my back out.
“What the f**k are you doing?” Fer
