Angelo tapped him. “Jack, let go. What are you doing?”
He didn’t reply.
“Jack!”
Then just like that he came to his senses and let Harry go. His body disappeared into the void; they were too high up to hear the sound of him hitting the pavement forty-two stories below. It was meant to look like a suicide, and it would if they left quickly.
Angelo chuckled. “Want to get a beer before we pay his wife a visit?”
Jack was still staring down. Angelo patted him on the shoulder. “Man, what the fuck is up with you tonight?”
“I… I was thinking maybe we should leave her.”
“Leave her? You heard what my father said.”
“She doesn’t know anything.”
“We don’t know that.”
Jack turned and walked towards the exit on the roof. “I’m not doing it.”
“Hey. Hey!” Angelo bellowed. Jack stopped and cast a glance over his shoulder. “It’s not personal, Jack. Just business. Remember that. Don’t you be going all weak on me.”
“I’m not,” he said reaching for the door handle and entering the stairwell.
As they descended, Angelo wouldn’t let up.
“You know rumors are starting to circulate, Jack.”
“Yeah? I don’t listen to them. Wouldn’t know.”
“Well I know. Mike Peterson’s girlfriend. Billy Johnson’s daughter. They’re still alive. I didn’t say anything to my father but you do know what will happen if he finds out.”
“He won’t.”
Angelo grabbed him. “If I did, you’re damn sure he will.”
Jack shrugged him off and continued on.
“How long have I known you, Jack?”
“Too long,” he muttered.
“You’re like a brother to me. That’s why I haven’t said anything. But like any brother, I’m going to tell you when you’re getting too close to the edge and trust me, you are. My father might favor you but he has his limits.”
Jack chuckled as they exited the building through a side fire door and melted into the crowded street. Taxis honked their horns. Steam drifted up through the metal grids in the sidewalk. Headlights washed over them. Bicycle messengers shot by nearly colliding as they crossed the road.
“When did you give a shit about your old man?” Jack asked.
“I don’t. He’s never once had my back, but you… I’m still alive because of you, Jack. So as a friend, as a brother, I’m asking you.” He stopped for a second and grabbed hold of Jack. “No, I’m telling you. Whatever the hell is going on in your head right now. Deal with it and fast, otherwise this shit is going to catch up with you. Now, I’m heading over to Harry’s place tonight and I want to see you put a bullet in that bitch’s head. You understand?”
They continued walking.
He said nothing.
Angelo grabbed him. “You hear me?”
Jack spun and grabbed him by the throat and threw him up against a wall. “Don’t ever tell me what to do. You want to kill her. You fucking do it yourself. I’ve done my work for the day.” Angelo stared back, speechless. Jack let him go and walked off into the night. Angelo yelled after him.
“You’re making a big mistake, Jack. You’re weak, Jack. You’re weak!”
And just like that his eyes snapped open and he shot upright in bed. The world around him spun as if he’d had too many drinks. His jaw ached and his head was throbbing. Jack touched his temples and noticed the skin felt like leather as if scarred. He felt an acidic taste form. He bent over and his stomach lurched, projecting vomit to the floor. Right then two security guards entered.
“Oh shit! Man, get a nurse.”
A security guard came over, bent at the waist and placed a hand on his back as he continued to throw up. “I thought you’d be dead by now. I don’t know why the state uses my tax money to keep you alive. If I had my way you would be sent to the electric chair. It’s a pity that ECT machine didn’t fry your brain. Maybe next time, right?” He chuckled. Out the corner of his eye Jack saw the guy’s baton. As if a light switched on, Jack knew what to do. He snatched it out of the duty belt and in a flash struck the security guard’s legs then followed through with one to the head. The guard collapsed in the vomit, groaning. Jack got out of bed. As soon as his legs hit the cold floor, they buckled as if he had no bones in them. He grabbed the bed and tried to support himself and then staggered over to the door. He had to escape. This was his one chance.
He swung the door open and was about to leave when the security guard who had heard the noise, tackled him. They slid across the smooth floor and the guard tried to restrain him but it was useless. Jack cracked him in the side of the face, twice, and then scrambled out the door. He turned to his left then right then bolted for the stairwell just as a third guard spotted him.
“Stop!”
He didn’t waste a second. Wearing nothing more than a hospital gown he flew down the stairs, strength returning to his legs, fueled by adrenaline. A female doctor emerged from a door on the second floor and screamed as he shot by her. When he made it to the ground floor, he was disoriented by the layout and went to the right when he should have gone left but it didn’t matter. The corridor ended at an emergency exit, he burst through it. Daylight stabbed his eyes and he squinted as he brought an arm up to block the glare. Another surge of sickness and he threw up again. The sound of boots behind him forced him into action. Jack staggered towards the parking lot, unsure of where to go or what to do. Although his
