Free I Kill Monsters: Fury (Book 1) by Tony Monchinski Page A

said and left the
table.
    “This woman of his, she something else, huh?”
asked Santa Anna.
    “Man’s pussy blind,” sighed Hamilton. “I
never seen her. Maddy has.”
    “Once, briefly,” noted Madison, sipping his
coffee. “And yeah, she is a site to behold.”
    “That beautiful, huh?”
    “Yeah, but I don’t know to describe
it… exotic I guess you could say.”
    “Exotic how? Like foreign?”
    “Well, she’s a white girl. But there’s
definitely something Mediterranean or something about her. And
she’s tall. Real tall.”
    “Oh,” said Hamilton, “I like tall women.”
    “How tall?” Santa Anna wanted to know.
    “How tall are you?” Madison asked him.
    “I’m six one.”
    “She’s taller than you. And I seen her
without heels.”
    “Damn,” noted Hamilton. “Jay’s gotta look up
to her, eh?”
    “Yeap.” Madison cut into the last of his
pancakes.
    “She’s got that guy wrapped around her
finger. Wouldn’t be surprised if he marries her.”
    “Nah.” Madison said it with his mouth full.
“She don’t seem like the marrying type.”
    “What makes you say that?” asked Santa
Anna.
    “I don’t know. What I do know,” he swallowed
the food in his mouth. “I only met her the one time.”
    “Hey, look,” said Hamilton. “It’s
Carmine.”
    He indicated a man at the counter. The guy
was dressed well, slacks, a collared shirt, sport jacket with a
rain coat on top of that. The woman behind the register was handing
him his change. He returned the bills to an enormous roll of green
and stuffed it in the pocket of his slacks.
    “Who’s Carmine?” asked Santa Anna.
    “One of Dickie Nicolie’s men,” noted Madison.
“He’s a soldier.”
    Carmine left the diner with a cardboard box
with four coffees and a brown paper bag of food.
    “Mind if I ask you about prison?” Jay had
returned to the table and rejoined them.
    “Damn,” said Santa Anna. “Everybody wants to
know about prison today. Go ahead.”
    “How long were you away for?”
    “Nine years. Almost ten.”
    “Damn,” said Hamilton.
    “That’s what I said,” agreed Santa Anna.
“Every day.”
    “What’s prison like ?” asked Jay.
    “It’s good to be out.”
    “Is it anything like the movies?” Madison
asked.
    “I don’t know,” admitted Santa Anna. “Are the
vampires in this world anything like the movies?”
    “Well,” Madison replied. “Not like that Anne
Rice shit.”
    “My wife loves them books,” noted Santa Anna.
“So, I know you got yourself a woman,” he said to Jay, and then
addressed the other two men, “but what about you guys. You married
or anything?”
    “Married, shit,” said Hamilton. “Fuck that
noise. No offense.”
    “We’re players for life, man,” added
Madison.
    “Know this place over off Roosevelt Avenue,”
explained Hamilton. “Got the finest ladies in the city. Gonna go
over there and get our knobs slobbed when we’re done here. Want to
go with us?”
    Santa Anna grinned. “No. Think I’ll head
home. See my wife and kids. Can one of you guys drop me off at my
car?”
    “Yeah,” said Jay. “We got you.”
    Hamilton was looking at his watch. “Let me
up, I gotta go call my bookie. Yankees playing the Angels tonight.”
He threw some bills on the table. “Ask the lady for the check.”

 
13.
10:01 A.M.
     
    “Mr. Mojo Rising, my man.”
    Every time Boone walked into the record store
in Harlem the old black man looked up at him from behind his
sunglasses and his counter and greeted him the same way. Not much
unnerved Boone, but he did have to wonder how the blind man knew it
was him each time.
    “Blind.” Boone bumped the outstretched fist
with his own.
    The store was packed with bins of records and
CDs and some customers perusing them. Boone had been coming here
for a few years and had judged technological advances by the
products the old man stocked. Cassette tapes had disappeared,
replaced by CDs. Walkmen gave way to Discmen. Phonograph