Killer Series - Book One
​Killer With A Heart

WARNING ADULT CONTENT
Sitting on the sidewalk with my back against the wall feels
good. I slowly begin picking morsels from the French roll I took from the bread bag as I walked past the deli. I hadn’t realized until I pop that first piece of bread into my mouth how hungry I am; haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. I get like this in the summer, especially when it’s hot. And even though it is only the first week of June, the temperature is already in the nineties and that is unusually hot for New York. I close my eyes and let the sunshine melt the pain away and clear my head of any thoughts. There is nothing but the red glow of the inside of my eyelids.
Blackness interrupts the crimson haze in my head momentarily. My eyes dart open, I instinctively spring to my feet, and reach around my back for the 007 switchblade.
“You’re one jumpy jungle bunny,” says Nicky Rocci. “But I guess you would be from the looks of you. Black eye, swollen jaw, some nasty black and blues... Well, blues on your sides,” he continues while holding my leather jacket open.
“You look like you had a rough night too, you whop cocksucker,” I reply, sliding back down to the sidewalk. “Who worked over your face, Nails?” I call him Nails partly because his family is in the construction business and he likes to tell everyone that he can chew nails and spit bullets. He is sporting a black eye, busted lip, and his nose looks like it was moved around his face a bit.
 
“My Dad wasn’t too happy about the job we pulled on the
Deli Man. Let me get a piece of that bread.”
“Get your own,” I say. “And while you’re over there, grab a couple of quarts. I know the Deli Man won’t mind.”
Nicky Nails disappears into the alley that leads to the back of the deli and comes out with two quarts of Budweiser then reaches into the big brown bread bag and pulls out an Italian loaf. As he crosses the street I notice a slight limp, probably got stomped on too.

“So, why did you tell him about the Deli Man? I thought we all agreed to keep our mouths shut. No matter what!” I ask as I shade my eyes and gaze up at him.
“I didn’t tell him anything. It seems the Deli Man is more connected than we thought.”
“Not, we thought,” I correct, “You thought. You said he was a small time numbers guy. Easy pickings.”
“Well, MoJo,” Nicky sits down beside me.
He calls me MoJo, which is short for Morris Johnson, and after the lyrics in the Doors song, ‘L. A. Woman’. I love that song, play it all the time.
“Not only is he more mobbed up than I thought; he was paying my family to keep his bank here. Naturally, when we hit him, he complained to my father about not protecting his money. My dad asked me what I knew.”
“And you bitched up!”

“Does it look like I talked?”
I take a long deep swig of cold beer.
Nicky continues, “We saw Deli Man’s guys grab you. I guess you kept quiet too.”
“Of course I did; we wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. He was going to keep on beating me until I gave him the answer he
wanted. That’s when he found out about Elizabeth and me, and went fucking ape shit.”
Nicky shakes his head, “I told you fucking his daughter was a bad, bad idea. She talked, didn’t she?”
“No.” I pause for a moment, as my mind jumps back to Deli Man’s kitchen, “Elizabeth was in the hall crying. Deli Man looked at her, and said something in Italian, which I didn’t understand. Her mother dragged her off down the hall. I thought he told her to get Elizabeth out of there. But a few minutes later her mother yelled ‘mignotta’, which I did understand, ‘whore’. She must have given her the old Virgin Finger Test. Deli Man forgot all about his money, and told his men to kill me.”
“Yeah, well, I told you, if you fucked his daughter he would kill you.”
“But at least he stopped beating on me.”
“Wait a second,” Nicky has a surprised look on his face. “If he told his guys to kill you, how are you here?”
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