Chapter 6: Morravey Alley
1290 Words
Vinco’s POV
“Is that it? Is that all you’ve got? I said blast his freaking brains out of his head!” Fernando yelled.
I sighed, walking to my chair with a glass of wine in one hand and a cigarette pinched between my fingers. “You know, you’re better off back in that asylum, brother.”
“I see… Looks like you ain’t man enough, huh? You gonna wait until you lose everything to realize you f****d up? This is the time. This is the perfect moment to execute it. Or you waiting for Mama to wake from the dead?” Fernando scoffed.
“I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t be an idiot.” I took a long drag and let the smoke out slowly.
“Well, you clearly don’t.”
“Alright, that’s it. Get out.” I gulped the last of the wine, staring him down.
“You ain’t got the balls, huh? Listen, Vin. If you can’t do it, then I will. My boys will move at my command and destroy everything. ‘Cause your heart ain’t hardened enough!”
“I said get out!” I yelled, standing up fast and shoving my gun in his face. “This has nothing to do with you. Everything belongs to me, so mind your bloody business and get lost!” I pressed the barrel closer. “And leave Mama alone. Let that woman rest in peace, for f**k’s sake!” I hurled my wine glass to the floor where it shattered.
“We shall see,” Fernando said, turning to leave.
“Try s**t, and it’ll be your brains rolling on the ground,” I yelled at his back.
**********
“Boss… what you asked for,” two of my men said, dropping two big black duffel bags on the desk.
I opened them and started inspecting. Guns, just like I ordered. Until… “Wait. What’s this?” I pulled one out, turning it over in my hands.
“Something wrong, sir?”
“That bastard! Didn’t you check it before you took it? Some are fake. Others aren’t even what I asked for. Is this a joke? Did you really bring this to me, huh?!” I yelled, tossing both bags to the floor.
“But sir, you said we shouldn’t open it. Just bring it as it is.”
“That’s not what– Hold on. Who gave you these?” Something clicked in my mind.
“The little boy who works there, sir.”
“What?! The boy gave it to you and you brought this s**t here?! Where was Musa?!”
“Wasn’t there, boss. The boy said Musa kept your bag separate before he left.”
I slammed my fist on the table. “That piece of… What about the money? Did you pay him?”
“No, sir!”
I sighed heavily, pressing my palm to my forehead. “Get the car ready. And take that s**t out of here.”
“Yes, sir!”
********
On the way to Musa’s store, the road was blocked. “Sir, looks like an accident up ahead.”
“Not one moment of peace on this road. Tch. Take the other route,” I said, annoyed.
We drove down a dark, quiet alley. Just how I liked it—some peace and quiet. We were almost there when a scream tore through the silence.
“I need to start killing people just for the little noise they make. What the hell is this, a scream house?” I sighed, leaning back in the seat. The screaming continued, louder now.
“Help! Help!!”
“Sir, someone’s in danger. Should we make a move?” one of my men asked.
“You i***t. Take me to Musa’s. You’re not a freaking hero,” I snapped.
*********
We got to Musa’s store. I stepped out of the car, anger simmering, ready to find out why he’d sent me garbage.
The front door was ajar, like someone had broken in. The bolt was undone. From inside, I heard a low moan, like someone hurt.
“Sir… something’s wrong. Musa would never leave his store unlocked.”
I eyed the door, hands in my pockets, and took a breath. “Let’s go in.”
My men and I stormed inside. The place was wrecked–everything scattered, turned over. Trails and stains of blood were smeared across the floor.
We pushed into the back room where Musa stayed. He was lying on the floor. Lifeless.
“Uh, boss…” one of my men said, turning to me.
“What the hell happened here?!” I yelled.
I walked over, bent down to check for a pulse. Nothing. He was gone. Then—a sound. A weak groan.
“What’s that?” I looked around, kicking objects aside. I violently lifted a tipped-over table. Underneath, a boy was curled up, breathing hard.
“s**t. s**t, shit.” I panicked. “Isn’t this Musa’s new apprentice? The one who gave you the bag, Drew?”
“Yes, boss. Damn, that’s him.”
I lifted him off the ground and sat him on a shaky wooden chair. Took out my handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face. “What happened? Tell me everything.”
Through tears and pain, he told me. Fernando and his boys did this. They’d come for a drive. Musa knew where it was but refused to talk… until Fernando threatened his mother. Then Musa told him.
“Told him what? Where?” I asked, stern.
“He… he said it was… a name. George. He mentioned George.”
“Urgh!” I punched the wall. “That bastard… Wait. What else did he say?”
“He… he told his men to use your name while they were at it.”
“Let’s go.” I turned to leave. “And get him to a hospital. Take Musa, too.”
“George… I think I know who that is,” I muttered as we left.
*********
We arrived at Mr. George’s apartment. It was a mess. We rushed in and found him on the floor.
“Sir… he’s still alive.”
“Quick, get him to the car.”
“You’ll pay for this, Fernando. Every bit of it,” I said, face tight with anger.
We got back in the car and drove off. On the road, we heard it again–heavy crying, moaning, coming from a pitch-black alley.
“What now?” I said.
“Should we check it out, boss?”
“Hope it’s not my foolish brother’s doing this time,” I sighed.
We turned into the alley, driving slow. It was cold, empty, dark. A dry Harmattan fog made everything blurry.
Suddenly, the crying stopped.
We got out, flashlights on, searching the shadows.
“Bloody hell! What the f**k is going on here?!” I yelled at the sight.
A woman was sobbing helplessly in the grip of three men. They saw us, tried to run. My men grabbed them, beat them down hard.
“Who told you to do this?!” I demanded.
“Sir… it was… Boss Fernando,” one mumbled through a bloody mouth.
“I knew it. That dumb piece of shit.”
“Sir, what should we do with them?”
“You know what? Just… let them go. I’ll deal with my brother myself.”
The woman had been defiled, horribly. Her clothes were ripped. I picked her up, wrapped her in my blazer. She was shivering, half-naked.
“Sorry, beautiful. Hope you don’t hate me after this,” I said, sighing.
We got back in the car and drove to the mansion.
- Writer
