Trapped in his End Game (Series)

CARMINE

I yank the parking brake and hightail it out of my house before the cops come. Neighbors will have heard the shots and I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want to be anywhere.

My heart feels like it’s been torn apart. It’s so painful that my chest shakes with sobs as I drive down the street. She hurt me. She destroyed me. I ran out of my own house like a coward, because I couldn’t stand to see the hatred on her face. I meant nothing to her.

I just want the pain to fucking end. All my life, I’ve been a fucking joke with women. My own mother treated me like I was scum, and every woman since her has done the same thing. The same thing always happens to me.

You’re not worthy of love.

I’ll just fucking drive my car to the bridge, jump out, and hurl my body over it. That’s it. I don’t want to live anymore. This crushing sadness. The aching, endless drip of loneliness with no end in sight. I’m done with being humiliated, crushed, and led on. Wasn’t I nice to her? Wasn’t I always?

Smashing my fist into the car radio makes me feel better. I pound it until shards of plastic stick into my skin, bleeding.

She was a fucking cunt to lead me on. I feel like such a fucking loser.

An image of her clinging to him, begging me to spare him, burns in my mind. Their love for each other was plain as day. It was so obvious and incredible, that it made me feel so small in comparison.

I just wish I had that.

Ashamed, I ran from them like a fucking coward. With any luck, that fucker will bleed out and then she’ll feel the pain I’m in right now.

Bitch.

I pull my car into the empty parking lot next to Coney Island boardwalk and I get out, slamming the door shut. The salty breeze whips my hair and I gulp air down as if I’m drowning.

I have no idea why I drove here. I don’t even remember driving.

My eyes are drawn to the giant Ferris wheel, which is lit up merrily against the night sky.

“Carmine, let’s go!”

“But I want to play. Why can’t I play with the other kids?”

“Cause you’re a nasty, spiteful little boy. I’m protecting the other children by keeping you away from them.”

My heart aches. I internalized it and cried alone in my bedroom. I wished I were good so that I could play with the other kids. Why did I have to be born so evil?

The oceans roars in front of me and for a moment I consider running into the waves with open arms to let it consume me.

Fuck suicide. My eyes steam with a vision of Tony, laughing his fat ass off when he realizes what he’s done to me. The vision mingles with my mother throwing her head back in shrill laughter.

I’m a monster. I’m no good for anyone.

Then if I’m a monster, I’ll be the worst kind possible. I’ll find Tony and kill every one of his supporters. They may not have been involved in Tony’s plan, but they were just as untrustworthy.

I only fucked over people who were going down anyway, with the exception of Cesare. Why the fuck would Tony care I was feeding shit to the cops about him? Didn’t he want the Vittorios dead?

Then I’ll get rid of Adriana and Vincent. They humiliated me, and they need to die.

If I’m going down, they’re all fucking going down. I don’t care if I die, but I will not go down as some kind of loser. I will be feared. They’ll respect me-all of them!

My hand shakes as I return to the car and open the door. My hands hover the steering wheel, whitened with rage except for the tiny flecks of blood where I smashed in the radio. It’ll be hard to get to Tony, especially when he’s always surrounded by people. I have plenty of guns in my trunk. I could get my semi-automatic and open fire once I get inside. I might die in the process, but I have nothing to live for anyway.

I start the car and pull out of the boardwalk, driving carefully down the streets. The last thing I want is to attract attention.

He could be at a number of places: the deli, his house, the bar he owns, the casino, the restaurants. I glance at my watch. At this time, the fat fuck is probably stuffing pasta down his throat.

I drive down to Jersey City and I think about crashing my car into the restaurant. What will I do after I kill them? Take off? A violent whirlwind of thoughts keeps me from making a decision. I don’t know what to do, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about living anymore. I just want to cause the people who hurt me as much pain as I fucking can before I go.

I park on the other side of the restaurant, and from here I can see Furio guarding the entrance. Bending over, I slide my semi-automatic into my jacket carefully, and then I clutch the handle of my knife.

Time to die, assholes.

I cross the silent street of this crumbling city and my eyes lock on Gambini’s, the restaurant. Smiling, I approach Furio as my right hand twitches by my side.

“Carmine, the boss has been looking for you.”

I embrace his thick shoulders with my left hand while my right hand grabs the knife in my belt and stabs him between his ribs. It enters him silently as Furio gives a strangled gasp. He sighs when I pull it out and I stab through the muscles several more times, feeling his warmth gushing over my hands. Then I step back and allow him to collapse to the concrete, knife still clutched in my hand. The blood covering my blade reminds me of strawberry jam. I smile at that and kneel down, wiping it off his trousers.

“Sorry, man,” I say to the dying guard. I have no beef with him, but sometimes that’s how it goes. Oh well.

I peer inside the restaurant and smile. No one noticed anything. I’m like a fucking ninja. Securing the knife back inside my belt, I grab my semi-automatic.

Visualize it.

There are guys everywhere, but I can get them quickly if I focus. I see myself firing at each person in rapid succession; their bodies flailing as giant holes explode in their body. Adrenaline runs through my veins and I take a shaky breath before I casually open the door. The guard by the door sees me, recognizes me. I extend a hand with a smile.

He reaches for it-BAM. The hair trigger gets him immediately. I turn around before I see him drop to get the two others across the room. The rat-a-tat of gunfire fills my ears as I get them quickly, and then I turn towards Tony’s table. He’s surrounded by his capos. Bullets fly in my direction but I stand up straight and unleash my fury on all of them. Blood sprays the checkered tablecloths as every captain flies in the air, smashing into tables nearby. I walk closer and barely flinch when their gun nozzles flash at me. Blood and brain matter sprays into the air like pink mist. Holes gouge into the walls and when I stop, the restaurant is deadly silent. Death is quiet.

Tony’s dinner is covered in blood and he looks at me without fear, fury etched on every line on his face. The body of John, the first captain I shot, still sits in his chair. His mouth gapes open obscenely as blood drips down his ears and nose. The top of his head is blown off. I place a hand on the guy’s shoulder and shove him off the chair. Then I take his place, sliding into the chair across Tony with my gun pointed at the fucker’s heart.

He stares at me as I settle into the blood soaked table. I grab the glass of wine sitting in front of me and tip it down my throat.

“What the fuck did you just do?”

I slam the glass back on the table and notice that there are bloody fingerprints all over the glass. I’ll have to wipe those later.

“You fucked me over, I fuck you over.”

“What are you talking about?” His face is blank, but his eyes burn with malice.

Piece of shit.

“I should smash in your fat fucking head for what you did to me. I know about Adriana.”

Tony holds his hands up to placate me and that makes me grin. He looks surprised. None of them ever took me seriously.

I’ll bet you do now, you fat fuck.

“Carmine, think about this.”

“I’ve thought about it a lot, actually. What your face would look like when I shove my gun in your mouth.”

“What’s your plan, huh?” he snaps. “How the fuck do you think you’re going to get away with this.”

“Well, I just killed all your captains, Tone. After I kill you,” I shrug. “I don’t fucking care if I live. I just want to see your blood all over the floor.”

His face whitens. “Carmine, let me go and I promise I won’t go after you. I already covered up your mother’s death for you-”

Nothing passes by me.

“You were saving your fucking fat ass as much as you were saving mine. Don’t lie to me.”

Tony slams his fist into the table and I almost shoot him.

“Fine!” he screams. “I knew you were ratting us out to the cops and I wanted you to do something stupid-something that would get your ass in jail, so I sent that girl after you.”

He seizes a butter knife on the table.

“You think I’m fucking stupid, don’t you?”

The nozzle of the gun wavers in his face. Tony can’t keep his eyes off it.

“No, I don’t-”

He’d say anything to save his ass.

“I was trying to get that piece of shit Cesare in jail-to get rid of him! Isn’t that what you wanted, you stupid fuck?”

Tony flinches from my voice. “Please put the gun down.”

“No.”

I shove the chair back when I stand up, keeping the gun trained on Tony’s face.

“Any last words?”

He lowers his hands. “Yeah, fuck you.”

Tony dives to the floor as I open fire. I step to the side and see the fat fuck curled on the floor, three neat holes in his back. He reaches for his gun and slips in his own blood. His head bursts into meaty fragments as I aim and fire.

Fucking asshole.

The deafening shots make my ears ring and only when Tony’s face is mauled beyond recognition do I stop firing.

A wailing song outside sends a jolt through my heart.

Time to leave.

It’s only when I stand in the doorway and look back on the carnage that I appreciate the magnitude of what I just did. I’ve butchered the Rizzo family. Technically, as the only captain still alive, that would make me the boss.

Too bad I can’t stay here.

But what if I did?

I run across the street, almost tripping over Furio’s body as I jump into my car. The lights from the street barely illuminate his body. I can almost imagine what the inside would look like in daylight, beautiful, bright red splatter all over the walls, which would turn brown as it dried.

I couldn’t become the boss of New Jersey, not without supporters.

I wrench open the door and slide inside the car seat, my blood still boiling. It was immensely satisfying to see that prick die, but the joy seemed to run right through me.

I’m still alone. By morning, I’ll be facing murder charges when Adriana tells the cops what happened.

My hand turns the key in the ignition, an ugly flush filling my cheeks.

Down the street, I see something strange. A woman walking with an older woman’s gait. The yellow light from the street burns her face, which twists in that hateful look I know so well.

Mom?

Holy fuck, she’s supposed to be dead.

She seems to spot me cowering in the car and then rushes forward, her hand rising with a kitchen knife.

“Come here, Carmine! You little shit! I’ll stab you in the eye!””FUCK!”Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

I yank the wheel to the left and floor it, my right headlight smashing into the car parked in front of me. Then I burn a red light as my heart pounds so hard that the blood rush makes me dizzy.

She’s still there. How does she still exist?

A weak, powerless feeling overcomes me. I thought that if I killed her, she would be purged from my mind. The torture and the self-blaming would finally stop.

Maybe it’s because she’s alive. Adriana.

I thought she was the woman of my dreams; the girl who would finally replace my mother. I shouldn’t have wanted that, because it is exactly what she did. She replaced my mother, a continuation of my torture.

That cunt used me. Tried to have me killed.

So I’ll kill her.