One Gray Day by Tony Faggioli

Author:Tony Faggioli [Faggioli, Tony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07RWNHXZ1
Publisher: Atticus Creative
Published: 2019-05-13T23:00:00+00:00

After breakfast, Curtis and Hector went to the yard to get in a workout. Shoulders and traps. It had been a while since Hector had lifted and it felt good. They alternated sets while a number of the other inmates stopped by to talk business with Curtis. Some things relating to the inside (the latest shipment of heroine had been placed in Ziploc bags and put in butter containers, the butter being melted and poured back in so it set around the bags before being delivered to the prison’s cafeteria) and some things relating to the outside (two members of a rival gang in Chino Hills was secretly doing drug runs into a few Downtown LA clubs as a side hustle, and therefore had to be dealt with).

Hector quietly marveled at his boss, who had morphed again into the same ol’ Curtis: funny but lethal, engaging but rude when he was done speaking with you. The contemplative, slightly remorseful Curtis from earlier was nowhere to be seen. He wanted one thing done one way, another the other, and as long as you did what you were told you were good.

His minions rotated on by with handshakes, disguising the work chats with bullshit chatter, just in case anyone was listening in, then they slowly drifted away. Hector noticed more than a few of them eying him up and down, probably wondering who the new dude was and why he had such instant access to the top. No one gave him the stink eye though, at least not yet, which was good.

After their workout was complete, Curtis dabbed a towel on his head and bobbed his chin at Hector. “Here he comes.”

A man walked up from behind Hector who was about six-foot-four and weighed, maybe, one hundred and seventy-five pounds. It was a look that earned him his nickname. With his long arms and lanky legs, you’d have never guessed him for a killer. His eyes were small and dark. His face was pockmarked and wrinkled. At age forty-five or so, the wrinkles were a bit too heavy, but that was the gang life for you. “I gotta have a private chat with him, to set things up right for tomorrow, so go take a walk.”

Hector did as he was told. He took a stroll across the yard to the water fountain for a long drink and splashed water over his face and across his scalp. Feeling a presence behind him, he turned around quickly.

The Smiling Midget was standing there and flexing his biceps. Hey, Hector? Do you think I got my swoll on? he asked with a laugh.

Hector shook his head and tried to walk past him, but The Smiling Midget cut him off. So, what’s with all the lovey-dovey friendship talk with the guy you’re supposed to kill?

“Get out of my way,” Hector replied.

I mean, this ain’t adding up for my side, Hector-Me-Boy! They’re starting to get concerned and all, know what I’m saying?

Hector stepped around him, stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, and began walking the perimeter of the fence line.

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