Chapter 2- that fateful night



A patch of sunlight streaked in through his cell window illuminating a floor tile where it touched the ground and to him it seemed like a ray of hope. Having just completed a stint in solitary confinement any glint of light was a welcoming sight to his dull eyes as he pulled himself off his cot and went to wash the residue of sleep off his face he noticed his own blood shot eyes. He wasn't getting much sleep on that lumpy mattress he thought as he smoothed his blonde colored unkempt hair. After relieving himself in the toilet next to him he lay back down on the cot, there was always nothing to do he thought its the boredom that always seem to hurt the most not any physical pain he had ever endured. Not even the now stitched up slow to heal gun shot wound that still throbbed in his side as he lay on his back looking up at the low ceiling he soon slipped into another daydream as he relieved the night he had got caught. It was a cold night so he had decided to hit up his usual bar on Elm Street called the inn the one with the new waitress he was trying to nail. As usual when he entered he tried out a few of his patented pick up lines on her but to no effect, what’s her problem he thought as he sat in a booth facing the door. But it was not only her he noticed it was the whole god damn joint that seemed different he had noticed it as soon as he came in all the talking had stopped and everyone seemed to be watching him. I must be getting real popular again he had muttered to himself as he settled down and ordered his beer. As he was drinking his third gulp he heard the door creak open and he saw a couple of strange looking characters. From the looks of their well groomed black hair and their dark suits he reckoned they might be hired guns. Must be new in town he thought, what he didn't know was that they were giamotti's boys and they were looking for him. They walked in and just stood in the center of the small room their eyes moving around like they were looking for something and then they saw him and immediately approached him. He thought nothing of it at first but as of habit his right hand slowly drifted to his waist within striking distance of his revolver. It was a magnum 48 and it packed quite a punch damn near always lethal at close range, and as they closed the last few feet to his table he hoped he didn't have to use it. "Good evening Bruce they greeted him we've been sent to fetch you" the taller stranger had said revealing a gold tooth as he smiled slyly. "Fetch me I didn't know I was needed" he had replied, "just come quietly and lets not make boss giamotti wait any longer" the shorter more aggressive stranger had replied leaning closer to him, close enough for Bruce to smell the stench of his breath. Suddenly it had hit him they were here to take him to his grave, somehow he had screwed up but he was so sure he had not left any clues unless he had been seen but how and by whom he thought. His mind was racing now how would he get himself out of this one. "Okay you win "he said taking a deep breath and slowly rising from his chair his hand accidentally knocking over his beer. Call it dumb luck but that diverted his would be captors attention for the split second he needed. He sprang into action smashing the first one in the mouth with his left hand while pulling out his pistol with his right. He had caught them off guard and after a quick pistol whipping of the second man he had made a frantic escape at least he though he had.