Bad Games 2 - Vengeful Games (37 page)

Worthy opponent or not, this man deserved no respect for the things he’d done to the people Domino loved and considered family. He left the room quietly with John Brooks’ dead eyes open.

*

“
Dad?
”

No answer. Monica heard someone moving upstairs. “Dad, you there?”

Nothing.

She sighed and glanced down at the dying Patrick.

*

Domino retrieved his gun when he heard the crazy bitch calling from downstairs. That was a bad sign. It meant his boys were likely in trouble. He was hurt, but not bad enough for a second attack.

Going hand-to-hand with the daughter would be like a game of checkers after what he had just gone through with the father. Except she would never
do
hand-to-hand, would she? She never needed to. And if she got past Briggs, it certainly wasn’t on might. It was the classic brains and brawn. He was up against the brain now. He had to regroup, not succumb to the kind of trap the big fucker had gotten him with.

And then the front door slammed and all plans went out the window. Domino hurried downstairs, gun leading the way.

*

Domino saw two things when he hit the bottom of the stairs and entered the living room. One was his friend Patrick, on his back and bleeding badly from his chest and stomach. The other was one word, scrawled in blood on the white wall above Patrick’s body:

Ciao
.

Domino’s instinct was to rush for the door, to follow his target before it fled. Doing that, though, would mean leaving his friend to bleed. And he still didn’t know where Briggs was.

She’s getting away.

Domino ran to Patrick and placed his hand on his neck. His pulse was very shallow, his breathing barely there.

She’s getting away.

Domino stood and ran to the front door, stopped, and returned to Patrick. He called for help on his cell, and then started to perform CPR on his friend.

Patrick died before the ambulance arrived.

Chapter 77

Florence, Italy

Four Months Later

A beautiful blonde woman in sunglasses sat at a table in a busy outdoor café. When the waitress approached, the beautiful woman ordered a black coffee in perfect Italian.

While she waited for her coffee, the blonde took a cigarette from her purse, lit it, and inhaled deep. She titled her head back and blew a stream of smoke towards the sky. She kept her head in that position after exhaling, soaking in the morning sun as though she had never had the pleasure of sampling its allure.

The waitress returned with the coffee and the blonde thanked her.

She took a sip, let out a contented sigh, and resumed leaning back in the chair, her face in the sun once more.

She was drawing on her cigarette again when a woman spoke:

“Those are bad for you.”

The blonde casually lifted her head and exhaled. “Amy Lambert, as I live and breathe.”

“Hey, Monica,” Amy said, taking a seat across from her. “Back to blonde again?”

Monica ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s real—no wig.”

“Looks good. Familiar too.”

Monica smirked. “Bringing back good memories?”

“Just memories,” Amy said, her eyes never leaving Monica’s.

“Now come on, Amy …” Monica tossed her lit cigarette to the ground; a patron scoffed at the act. “I always pegged you as rather smart.” Monica brought her hand below the table. There was the faint click of a gun. “You know you’d stand no chance against me.”

Amy nodded, her eyes no less intense. “I know that.”

A powerful hand seized Monica’s arm from behind. Effortlessly, the concealed gun was wrenched from her hand and quickly tucked away.

Without turning around, Monica said, “Let me guess—it’s the big black fella that killed my father.”

“You can call me Domino,” a deep voice said.

“I can call you much more than that,” Monica said.

Domino bent forward and put his mouth to Monica’s ear. “Be quiet and listen to what my friend has to say.”

Monica’s eyebrows bounced. “Friend? Are you two fucking already? Poor Patrick. It hasn’t even been a year and—”

There were two muffled thumps. Nobody in the outdoor café heard them. Monica’s head dropped towards the table, towards her stomach. Her face went from shock, to disbelief, to nothing. She fell face-forward onto the table.

By the time anyone noticed, Amy and Domino were faces in a crowd. The gun Amy used was given back to Domino and tossed in the River Arno.

THE END

COMING SOON…

The third installment in the
Bad Games
series,
Bad Games: Hell Bent

About the Author

A Philadelphia area native, Jeff Menapace is a former schoolteacher turned writer. He has published multiple works, both fiction and nonfiction. His short story “Sugar Daddy – A Dark Thriller” received the 2011 Red Adept Reviews Indie Award for Horror.

Jeff’s recent novel,
Vengeful Games
, is the sequel to the acclaimed thriller,
Bad Games
. A third installment in the popular series,
Bad Games: Hell Bent
, is already in the works and scheduled to be released soon.

Free time is spent reading, watching mixed martial arts, horror films and
The Three Stooges
, and paying more attention to animals than people. He is
still
determined to pet (and maybe cuddle) a lion one day.

Jeff loves to hear from his readers. Please feel free to contact him to discuss anything and everything. Be sure to sign up and leave your email address (don’t worry, Jeff hates spam as much as he does spiders) for occasional updates on all future works!
[email protected]
http://jeffmenapace.com/books/

Connect with Jeff on Facebook and Twitter:

www.facebook.com/JeffMenapace.writer

http://twitter.com/JeffMenapace

Other Works by Jeff Menapace

Please visit Jeff’s Amazon Author Page or his website for a complete list of all available works!
http://www.amazon.com/JeffMenapace/e/B004R09M0S
www.jeffmenapace.com

Author’s note:

Thank you so much for taking the time to read
Vengeful Games
. I truly hope it was everything you wanted in a follow-up to
Bad Games
. And remember, the games are not over yet! There is still more to come, my faithful readers.

And please, above all, remember this: Every single reader is important to me. Whenever I’m asked what my writing goals are, my number one answer, without pause, is to entertain.

I want you to have fun reading what I write. I want to make your pulse thump. To make you wonder if you just heard something in the closet while in the middle of a creepy chapter. Again—I want to entertain you.

If I succeeded in doing that, I would be very grateful if you took a few minutes to write a review on Amazon for
Vengeful Games
. Great reviews can be very helpful, and I absolutely love to read the various insights from satisfied readers.

Thank you so very much. Until next time…

Jeff Menapace

Copyright © 2013 by Jeff Menapace

Published by Mind Mess Press

All Rights Reserved

VENGEFUL GAMES

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner or the publisher of this book.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Cover Design: Boulevard Photografica/Patty G. Henderson,
www.boulevardphotografica.yolasite.com