The Life of Lol (15 page)

She squeezed his trigger finger, and he shot himself in the thigh.  She rolled into him, turning the gun arm as he fell and squeezed again.

Bang

The second guy went down, but only in the shoulder.  As he wrenched for his own gun muttering, she ripped the downed guys weapons free from his grasp, and fired again.

Bang

Right between the motherfucking eyes.  How many of these guys did she have to kill, she wondered, before they realised not to fucking mess with her.  She heard a moaning from behind her.  Fat boy wasn’t dead.  She turned and fired, right between the eyes.

“Goodnight, motherfucker” she said, and still holding the gun, left the bodies where they were and climbed back into the van.  She was still leaving town.  There was nothing left for her here now, not with the Maranzano family probably after her in a big way, and Jack Mason with his own scores to settle.  So yeah, she was still leaving.  Just not yet.

Chapter 19. Reckoning

Jack Mason sat in the bar, brooding.  The sign said closed, Justine was still in the hospital and Taylor was….where Tay was he didn’t even want to think about it.  Carl told him that had been orders from Maranzano to have her taken care of.  Mainly for bringing the poisoned blow onto the street, but also for getting heat brought down onto the family.  Jack had thought about this.  He could fight against Carl, he could have even killed Carl right there where he stood, and the old Jack would have done, but for what?  Taylor didn’t give a fuck for him.  Plus if he did that, the entire east side mob would have been after him and for fucking what?  A girl who he’d known for nine months and who had lied to him and double crossed him at every turn.  Fuck her.  He stroked Horace absent mindedly.  Even Horace had betrayed him.  Something had happened between the mangy black cat and Tay who had at once been enemies.  Until her running out, they had suddenly become firm friends.  Who knew?

It took her a while to get back into the city.  Now she had to be careful.  Public enemy number one, two and fucking three all rolled into one.  And for what?  One drug deal gone wrong?  A couple of dead bandits and a business card for a Californian TV producer.  And for that she had to be killed.  Who did these fuckers think they were.  Top dog, Tay thought.  Top fucking dog.  She’d abandoned the van, and shimmied up the drainpipe of the Foo Lim laundry warehouse nearby to watch the fun.  The flames from the fire she’d set in the dumpster were now following the trail of gas that had come from the van.  Instantly, the fire enveloped the building.  She knew he was in there.  Had checked that the light was on in the office and everything.  Fuck him.   One way or another, he was to fucking blame for having them goons try to kill her.  The orders might not have come from him, but he certainly knew about it, and hadn’t done anything to stop it.  That’s what life as a gangsters woman meant, she guessed.  The instant that they suspect you of doing anything for yourself it was fucking blam and a hole in the desert.  Right there and then as the fire took hold of the bar with Horace and Jack inside, she swore to never be anybody’s woman ever again.  I’m gonna be in charge of me, she thought, no well-meaning guy wanting to protect me and have me as a little fucking woman.  Fuck them. 

The fire took hold properly now, and it wasn’t too long before the fire department sirens could be heard.  The lights had gone out in the building now as the fire engulfed the basement bar and destroyed the offices behind.  She heard explosions as the alcohol exploded.  Fire trucks were on the scene now, but the blaze had engulfed the old building and was now threatening the next block.  Taylor lay back on the roof of the warehouse and lit a cigarette.

The fire blazed until the early hours.  By dawn, it was all over.  One body had been pulled from the wreckage.  Unrecognisable.  She guessed the ashes of old Horace were in there somewhere.  Poor little bastard.  Least he go to where his kid was now, she thought. Climbing down from the warehouse roof, she went to go have a closer look at the wreckage.  Apart forma few fire guys still making things safe and a resident cop, all was quiet.  Half the building had fallen in as the timbers had burnt, the rest was a crumbling blackened ruin.  Whatever the fuck else happened, the place would never be a bar again.

“Jesus”, she said to the cop who sat reading the early edition, “what happened?”

“Dunno ma’am”, he said honestly, “looks like the dumpster caught light and that set the rest of the building off.  This whole block is like a tinderbox”

“God”, she said looking around, “hope nobody was hurt.”

“Just one guy”, he said sadly, “in the office.  Figure he was the owner.”

Then it was done.  She went to the back of the building where there was nobody around and stood and looked.  Where the office had been, and next door where she’d seen the guy beaten was nothing left.  The entire wall and ceiling had fallen in, and the whole building was perilously dangerous.  Most likely the place would have to be demolished.  Shame about old Horace.

At that moment, she jumped at a sound in the rubble nearby  where the Fire department had piled it.  Still mangy, with half his fur singed, and looking more worse for wear than ever was old Horace.  He started at her with his one green eye, a malevolent look.

“I’m sorry buddy”, she said softly, “I tried to shout.  But you wouldn’t come.  I just had to finish that bastard.  He tried to have me buried in the desert.  What’s a girl to do?  I wish I hadn’t had to do it, you were the only friend I ever had.  Can you forgive me?”

Horace apparently decided that he could, and approached Tay.  She picked him up and cuddled him, and after one or two protests, Horace began to settle.

“See”, she said, “everything worked out all right”.  Now we can have a road trip all the way to LA.  I got a friend there who’ll give me a job and keep you in fresh fish forever.”

“If you mean your lover Larry Burke”, a voice said behind her, “then I’m sorry to have to break it to you, but he’s dead.”

She turned rapidly.  And drew in a sharp intake of breath.  There before her stood Jack Mason, unscathed.

“You…” she stammered, “they carried you out in a  body bag.  How the fuck are you…”

“They carried Carl Maranzano out in a body bag”, he explained, a tone of anger in his voice.

“Carl fucking Maranzano”, he continued, “Tony Maranzano, who knows you by the way, is already in jail thanks to some shit between you and a body in the trunk of a car.  Vincent, his eldest son is facing twenty years thanks to the fuck up with the poisoned crack and his other son, Carl…you just murdered him last night in a fire.  Not to mention the four other guys, all of which you’ve shot.  You’re quite the little fucking gangster”

“Hey baby”, she said putting Horace down and rising to her feet, “they come after me and I’ll put em down.  Keep setting em up, and I’ll keep striking em out”

“I’m putting you down”, he said drawing his gun, “you realise how much shit you’ve brought to my door.  How much grovelling I have to do to stop Vincent Maranzano from putting me in a fucking hole in the motherfucking ground.  A fucking lot, that’s how much. 
He drew his gun.  It was the same gun that had been hers, he’d obviously retrieved the jeep and taken the weapon,
“As if that wasn’t enough”, he continued, “all my money is gone and the bar is…is…”

He kicked at the remains of a wall, and it collapsed, one of the bricks going near Horace and making him howl.

“And that fucker”, he said, angry now, that mangy no good piece of shit little fucker.  You care for that piece of flea bitten crap more than you ever did me.  I guess there was nothing you could take off him, huh?  I guess it’s ok, Horace, I guess she don’t like the taste of your cat food.”

“Leave Horace alone, he’s ok”, said Taylor, wondering if she could go for her own gun.  The cop was still nearby, and it was a risk.

“Horace is ok huh?” he said, “you care about him, huh?  I cared about my bar, you burnt it to the ground, I cared about Justine, you made her OD and nearly die and now she’ll have nothing to do with either of us.  Fuck you.  Fuck Horace.”

He fired the gun, pumping five bullets in the old cats side.  With a feeble mewl, Horace fell over on his side and died.

“That’s your last fucking mistake”, she said with genuine tears in her eyes, and while he stood seething, she drew the weapon she’d stole from the guys in the desert and pointed it at him.

Without thinking she fired, but missed.

“Crazy fucking…” he hissed, as he could sense the cop approaching at the sound of gunfire, but as he looked back, she was gone and down an alley,

To where.  Where the fuck would she go.  What would she do.  She heard the sound of gunfire again as she retreated.  What the fuck was that?  The morning was fast approaching, and she could sense the footsteps after her.  She ducked down behind a bin, and watched.  There he was coming up the fucking alley.  She rose and fired, winging him in the arm.

“Fucking pyscho bitch”, he screamed at her, firing back.  As she ran again, she wondered where the cop had gone.  Jack came further down the alley.  He was bleeding but not too badly.  Stupid bitch.  He had to be rid of her in some way.  He perhaps had a plan, or the beginnings of one.  First he had to survive a gun battle in the middle of a city street in broad daylight.

Wham

He didn’t know what hit him at first, but then realised it was a trashcan lid.  It knocked him out for a second, when he awoke, she was standing over him holding both guns, the one form the desert and her own, the chromed desert eagle.  She fired the desert eagle near his feet and he scrambled to get up, running now.  The bitch fired again and he staggered and onto a ladder.  Perhaps shooting the cat had been a mistake, he thought.  Goddamed women.  Fucking crazy ass bitches, the lot of them.  This was a tiger, not a woman.  Get a tiger cornered and it’ll fight back hard.  Like this one was doing.

He saw the roof ladder for the fish cannery nearby and jumped for it, shimmying up the outside of the building,

“You think I’m scared o heights baby”, she shouted, firing a shot off to see if she could make him lose balance.  Stowing the weapons in her jacket, she shimmied up the ladder after him.

“You’re nuts”, he shouted down at her, “run while you can, you crazy bitch”

“I’m done runnin, baby”, she shouted back, gaining, “Nobody’s ever gonna treat me like shit again.  From now on, it’s my terms.”

He reached the top of the roof and ran for it,

“What the fuck are you talking about”, he shouted, “you’ve fucking lost it!”

“First it was Allen”, she shouted, “figured I was to blame for everything, bringing shit down on him and I’ll I’d ever done was be in the wrong goddam place at the wrong time”

“Allen”, he shouted, “who the fuck is Allen?”

“You don’t know him”, she said reaching the rooftop.  She paused as if weighing up if he’d prepared a trap.  He hadn’t and was already at the edge of the roof.  The adjoining apartment block was mere inches away from the roof, but, unlike the flat roof of the warehouse, the apartments had sloping roofs.  Showing a turn of speed, Jack ran.  Taylor let off a shot from the desert eagle, and it made Jack stumble, but he recovered.  She gave chase, and, following him, leapt to the apartment buildings after him

“You can’t blame me for that shit”, she shouted at her, this Allen guy is fuck all to do with me”

“I’m not baby”, she answered, “it’s just all the other shit I’m blamin you for”

The gap between the apartment block and the next block was looming.  It was too big a gap.  Trapped, Jack turned and held up his hands at her approach.

“Say goodnight, baby”, she said raising the gun,

“Broad daylight on the roof of an apartment block”, he said, “Real fucking clever”.

“Ain’t no cops”, she said waving the gun around, “I reckon nobody’ll miss you anyway.”

“Look” he pleaded, “you can’t blame me for whatever this Allen guy did to you.  I wasn’t even there.”

“Oh”, she said getting mad, “well that’s just fine.  I guess though I can blame you for your dickheads killing Zimo's girl, who was innocent, and making me think they were gonna kill me”

“I didn’t tell them to do that”, he said, “they were idiots, fair enough.”

“And then you start fucking questioning me about some guy I talked to in the bar who wants to get me a goddamed job to get me out of this shit hole.  Like I’m what?  Your fucking wife or something.  Your little fucking girl?”

“We had something”, he shouted back, “You cheated.  And when I called you out on it, and the case of drugs you stole from me, you ran.  Showed your true colours, took my money and ran out.  And now, you have the fucking audacity to stand there and yell at me, when you’re the one who’s killed Carl Maranzano by burning him to death and you’re the one who’s gonna send his elder brother Vincent Maranzano to jail for selling the poisoned crack on the streets.  Not only that, you leave me with no bar, no money and my head virtually in a fucking vice with the remaining Maranzano family who are gonna take me out to the river and put me in a fucking barrel.”

“Who’s Tony Maranzano”, she said suddenly, remembering the name.

“Carl and Vinnie’s father.  Head of the family”, he said surprised she’d heard of him, “doing twenty five to life for the attempted murder of a city cop.  Car thief found the half dead officer in the trunk of this car he’d ripped off and went to the cops.  Tony was arrested the day after.  Someone indentified the car thief who ripped the car off, beat him half to death and get this, the dick blamed his girlfriend.”

Tay laughed at that story, but didn’t drop the gun.

“Look”, he said, “you rained a royal pile of shit down on me.  I guess in a way you did me a favour.  Carl was a dick.  The fires being put down to an accident, so at least the city’s rid of one sadistic fuck”

Just one to go then”, she murmured.

“Fine one to talk”, he shot back, “you shot my guys in the balls, then the face.  Yeah I found the bodies.  That’s why I wasn’t in the club.”

“You think they didn’t deserve it?” she yelled, “what the fuck?  They were gonna murder me, make me dig my own grave and then kill me!  Did you not tell them to do that?”