Grinder Read Online Free PDF Page B

wound; he sobered instantly.
    “What does Paolo want, Johnny?”
    “He . . . he wants to see you.”
    I was surprised at the answer, but I didn't dwell on it. “Why did he send you and your gun? Was that supposed to lead the way?”
    “Fuck, I can't move my arm. Fuck, it hurts. I think I'm gonna be sick.”
    I hit him with another bucket of fish water just to keep him in the here and now.
    “Jesus, he . . . he just wanted me to find you and make sure you went to see him.”
    “He here now? On the island?”
    “He's back in Hamilton at the restaurant.” Johnny barely got his words out before he was sick all over himself.
    “How were you going to make me go to him? Were you going to threaten me? Or were you going to force me with your shiny gun?”
    Johnny looked away from me and the mess on his synthetic shirt. I read the body language and knew that he had already made a play. “What did you do, Johnny?”
    He didn't answer me. He looked into my eyes and I saw that he was an errand boy. He was a hard young man who got cocky, wanted to impress his boss, and had ended up neck deep in trouble.
    “You have to go meet the boss.”
    “Or what, Johnny? What did you do?”
    “Heh, I found you yesterday and before I came down to the wharf I had tea with the nice lady who you rent from. Me and her talked all about you. Her mysterious stranger, she calls you. Can you believe that shit? The mysterious stranger who always says hello and pays his rent on time.” He burped up some vomit after his last revelation.
    “Where is she?”
    “Don't worry about her, you got bigger problems. You need to get home.”
    “Where is she?”
    “Fuck you.”
    I turned and walked back to the wheel. The diesel engine sputtered back to life, violently sending fumes in waves out over the water. I breathed the smoke in deep and felt it burn my nose as I exhaled. Each second I smelled the exhaust pulled away months of the atrophy that had set in from safe living and honest work. Almost at once, fishing with Jeff seemed years ago. I turned the boat around towards the docks and set the throttle to a slow chug. Johnny had managed to get to his feet, but the effort along with the compound fracture caused him to vomit and retch over the side. I retrieved the heavy black gaff Jeff and I used to hook the giant bluefin. The gaff was four feet long and heavy. Its hook was dulled with age, but it would still be sharp enough. The tool hung low in my hands as I walked back to Johnny who was still bent over the side of the boat.
    Johnny had just finished another retch and shudder into the dark water. He turned his head in time to see me coming with the gaff in my hands. He tried to turn his body, but my left hand found the back of his neck. My hand held him in place, his chest forced against the railing. I hooked the gaff into his stomach and pulled hard towards me with my right hand. The hook moved through the synthetic shirt like it wasn't there and buried itself in Johnny's guts.
    Johnny let out a scream on the desolate water, but the only person who could hear it didn't care. My left hand let go of Johnny's neck and found a metal-studded belt under his ruined shirt; I used it to propel Johnny over the side of the boat into the water. All of the noises Johnny made were eaten by the merciless ocean. I gripped the railing hard with one hand and held tight to the gaff towing Johnny's body through the water. I clenched my jaw shut and held tight as the veins in my forearm began to stand out. Johnny was dragged through the wake of the boat backwards by the gaff. The speed of the water and the weight of his body made sure that the hook wouldn't dislodge. I braced myself and held the gaff at an angle that allowed Johnny's head to stay above the water so he wouldn't die on me right away. His flailing arms and legs created a lot of drag, making his body feel as though it weighed a ton.
    After a minute, I pulled Johnny up into the boat by the gaff. He coughed up sea