A Bad Man: Joey Read Online Free PDF

pretty fucking hot.” And then he grabbed her wrist, hauled her up, and pulled her back toward the alleyway.
    “No, no, no,” she repeated over and over again, and then realization dawned on her. He slammed her against the brick wall, and she held the small can of pepper spray, lifted it, and sprayed it right in his eyes.
    He howled in pain, and she turned to run off, but he snatched her hair, and yanked her back hard enough that she slammed against the ground. The air left her, pain coursed through her skull, and the pepper spray rolled away. The scent of blood filled her nose, and she turned her head to see the lifeless, dark eyes of a corpse staring right at her. She screamed, finally finding her voice, and tried to stand. But blood coated the ground beneath her, her head and wrist roared out in agony, and fear made her feeling lightheaded.
    “You stupid fucking puttana .” The man turned and faced her. He kept rubbing his eyes, but when he saw her he reached out and tangled his hand in her hair. Then he pressed the barrel of the gun to her forehead, and started saying a string of Italian. But before he pulled the trigger the sound of a gun going off filled her ears once more, and the warmth of blood sprayed across her face.
    He fell to the floor, and she opened her mouth on a silent scream. His blood covered her face, hair, and chest, and her heartbeat filled her ears. The man now standing in front of her was shrouded in darkness, but when he crouched on his haunches and the light from the streetlamp covered his face, her heart stopped in her chest when she saw who it was.
    Joey Bacelli.
    ****
    And she was out cold. Whether it was from the injuries she had, or the fact she was freaked the fuck out, Marra Santos was out like a damn light. Joey picked her up in his arms easily and moved away from the now two lifeless bodies on the asphalt. Little Johnny took another hit from his cigarette and flicked it away.
    “What do you want me to do about the bodies?” he asked in a low voice. The streets were quiet right now, but he hadn’t put a silencer on his gun, and so shooting the motherfucker that had just been about to take out Marra would surely have been heard.
    “Call the cleaner,” Joey said and took one more glance at Mario. The traitor had found his fate at the end of the gun-barrel of the Bacelli rivals.
    “Look at this fucker,” Johnny said and reared his foot back to kick Mario in the gut. The punt was so damn fierce that Mario’s body skidded across the alleyway. “This fuckin’ pucchiacha got it easy,” Johnny said on a growl. “I would have taken my fuckin’ bat to his traitorous ass.” He grabbed his cell from inside of his jacket and called Luciano, the Bacelli cleaner that came to places and took care of the blood and bodies. It was a sick fucking job, but Luciano was also one twisted and demented man, and Joey swore he enjoyed finding creative ways to get rid of the bodies they didn’t want found.
    Joey carried Marra, who was still out cold, over to his car. Johnny and he had been leaving the bar where Mario was supposed have shown up. But it was clear they had been wrong about the once tight Bacelli informant. The fucker hadn’t just been running his mouth when drunk, but had been working behind their backs with the Gondalo crew. The fact that they had gotten a call from Mario just half an hour before they stepped out of the bar, him telling them that he wanted to meet up and talk about some future jobs they had given him, told Joey all he needed to know. Mario had sounded sketchy as hell, nervous and twitchy, and he knew better than to bring up shit on the phone that was “work” related. So Mario had been in deep shit with someone, either the Gondalo or the Feds, and he was trying to find a way out.
    But seeing his dead body staring up at him from the ground, with a Gondalo bullet in the middle of his forehead, told Joey that he had turned his back on the family for some fly by pussy