Neon is the Colour of Vengeance (Flappers and False Gods)

ABE AND VITO

Evan visited Hugo in his sleep. His form blurry and distant, but it was unmistakably him. He looked at peace in the scrubs he had worn the night they met, happy, but always just out of reach. No matter how hard Hugo tried, or how fast he ran, he couldn’t reach him, just like the night he died. Hugo could never get to him in time. No matter how desperately he tried to close the distance between them he never could.

Evan smiled serenely as Hugo dropped to his knees panting.

“Please come back to me,” he sobbed. “Or take me with you.”

“Hugo, baby, it’s not your time.”

“I don’t care. I don’t know how to live without you.”

“Sure you do.”

“I don’t! I can’t!” Hugo wailed.

“It was the best eleven months of my life, but it was only eleven months. You lived thirty years without me.”

“I wasn’t living before you. It was a half-life with no dreams, no desires. I can’t go back, I won’t.”

“You don’t have to; you can move on.”

“I can’t…Please just let me come with you.”

“I know what you’ve been doing.”

As if summoned by Evan’s words, Jeffrey Tallow, Jack Li, and Frank Valasco appeared behind him. Their faces and bodies rotting away. Their flesh bloated and blistered, lips peeling back from their teeth to reveal blackened gums and the once vibrant irises of their eyes an eerie snowy white.

“They took you from me.”

“No, baby. You killed me the day we met. I just got to enjoy the afterlife for a little while.”

“I’m so sorry.” Hugo reached for him, desperate to pull Evan into his arms, but somehow, as always, he was just out of reach. There were mere inches between Hugo’s searching fingertips, and the thing he wanted more than life itself, but he could never close the tortuous gap.

“You have to stop.”

“I can’t. They have to pay.” Grief and rage melded together to form a new kind of anguish Hugo had no name for.

“You know I wouldn’t want this.”

“What about what I want?”

“You’re not a monster. Don’t let them turn you into one.”

Evan and his grotesque companions started to flicker and fade.

“No!” Hugo cried. “Please don’t leave me! Not again. Evan! Please!”

Hugo crashed back to consciousness with a gasp. His face was wet with tears and his skin drenched with sweat, even against the cold porcelain of the bathtub. It took him several long seconds to master himself. Now, when he woke, he felt more tired than when he had fallen asleep, that is if he managed to sleep at all.

He knew that the apparition of Evan who visited him at night was right. The real Evan, the man he longed for but would never be reunited with, would have hated what he was doing.

But Evan was dead.

Hugo will come for me.

Because of them.

Hugo will come for me.

They had to pay.

Hugo will come for me.

Frank Valasco’s words played on a constant loop in Hugo’s mind, fuelling a new obsession that twinned with his desire for revenge. He wanted to know, needed to know what Evan’s last moments were like, what his last words were. It lit a fire in Hugo that couldn’t be put out, it was like there was some tiny piece of Evan still out there waiting for him to claim it.

It had taken him some time to completely clean himself of Frank’s blood. He had scrubbed himself for so long that it had been a while before he noticed the red circling the drain was his own blood seeping from skin rubbed raw.

Now, as he buttoned up his white shirt, it clung to his gooey skin that still bled in places. The idea of the life he could have had, he almost had, haunted him and it was that which had him stepping out of his door into the night once more. He was tired, mentally and physically, living in the blackness of an all-encompassing void that would claim him one day and soon, but not tonight. Tonight, it was someone else’s time. Two someones.

Hugo was well aware that sooner or later, either Bobby would crack, or Samuel would realise what all the deaths meant—if he hadn’t already. So, it was with a little more caution that Hugo made his way to Borden Tower. He didn’t know where his intended prey lived and without Bobby, it would be difficult to find out.

Mutterings about Frank Valasco were the first thing to meet his ears as he entered the penthouse. The general consensus seemed to be that the Kellys had finally waged war out in the open. Nobody paid him much mind; they just went about their business. It had been over a month since Evan had died and people were starting to forget; they would remember when their boss paid the ultimate price for his betrayal, however.

Brothers by bond, not blood, Hugo spotted Abe Lucas and Vito Schults deep in conversation in the meeting room at the end of the corridor that also housed Samuel’s office. He had been hoping to gain their whereabouts but finding them was even better. They were next on his list.

Abe was tall, Black and lanky, his tightly coiled hair hidden beneath a flat cap. Vito was broad, White and stocky, with a bald head and a pair of glasses perched precariously at the end of his nose. Both men stopped talking abruptly when they saw Hugo.

“Hey boys, what’s cooking?”

“Frank Valasco was murdered last night. Real nasty job.” Abe eyed Hugo suspiciously.

“Damn. What are we doing about it?” The blood lust was building in Hugo already, but he kept his cool. There was no way he could do what he intended to in the penthouse. He needed to earn the men’s trust and get them somewhere else.

“What do you mean?” Vito asked in his smooth drawl.

“We should find the bastard who did it and make them pay. Teach them that they can’t mess with the Conti Family. What the fuck do you think I mean?”

Abe and Vito looked at each other thinly veiled suspicion present on each face.

“I was sorry to hear about your man,” Abe said carefully. It was clear to Hugo he was scanning for a reaction.

“Thank you,” Hugo replied curtly.

“You sure you’re up to this?” Vito hadn’t quite the knack for subtlety that Abe possessed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You lost someone important to you. That’s all.” He shrugged.

“The family comes first. So, let’s stop boohooing and carve out our pound of flesh.”

They seemed somewhat mollified by Hugo’s attitude, and he could feel them relax.

“Wanna get outta here?” Abe asked. “It’s busy and Sam’s on the warpath.”

“Is he now?”

All three of them jerked their heads towards the door. Samuel stood there in a black suit, his hands in his pockets looking livid.

“Maybe it’s because someone is waging war on us. Jeffrey and Frank! Now Bobby tells me fucking Roy Graves was shot in his home the same night, and Clarance Hoskins was kidnapped in his sleep. If Dill Kelly wants a war, I’ll fucking give him one.”

Hugo marvelled inwardly at his luck. Dill ramping up his assaults on Samuel was masking what Hugo had done. It wouldn’t last forever but it certainly helped.

“Are you sure they were all killed by the Kellys?” Vito shot a furtive glance at Hugo who suppressed a grin.

“Bobby’s sure of it and I can fucking feel it.”

Another small stroke of luck in a life otherwise destroyed. Bobby hadn’t given him up. Yet. In the past, Hugo would have bet his life that Bobby would never betray him, but that was before they had lied to his face while the man he loved was killed. All bets were off, and Hugo could no longer bank on Bobby.

“Boss, why don’t we three do some snooping. Dig a little. See what we come up with. If we find the hitter and take them out, it would be a blow to Dill as well as a nice warning that we won’t take his BS sitting down.”

Samuel eyed Hugo, who knew he looked terrible. He was nowhere near as clean cut as was the norm and his lack of sleep was patent on his face.

“Your leg up to a fight?”

“Yes, sir. Ditched the cane a couple days ago.”

“But you haven’t been sleeping.” His tone was fatherly. Worried.

“They left his heart on my pillow.” All the air seemed to leave the room at his words.

“Jesus. I’m sorry, son.” And he had the gall to look it. “I didn’t want to say anything before. It was too soon, but Bobby and I have been wondering if what happened to Evan was the first shot Dill fired. As payback for you threatening him, or maybe he realised you weren’t a traitor and wanted to teach you a lesson.” It was an elegant manipulation. Subtly shifting blame onto Dill, to further his own aims and spurring Hugo on with the implication it was his fault. If Hugo didn’t hate him and crave his death with every fibre of his being, he would have been impressed. As it stood, he swallowed the bile rising in his throat and nodded.

“I’ve been wondering that myself.” Hugo managed with difficulty. “I’d like a little payback, if you’ll permit it.”

“Tell everyone—we are officially at war. Do whatever you need to. Make that bastard pay for what he did to that wonderful man of yours.”

Hugo couldn’t speak, he barely managed to stop himself letting out a snarl as he nodded stiffly.

“Go with him.” Samuel nodded to Abe and Vito.

A light rain started to fall as they left Borden Tower. The streets were bustling, the normal people going about their day had no idea that war was brewing.

“I can’t wait to take out some Kelly scum.”

“Where should we start?”

Abe and Vito were muscle. Hired goons. Flunkies at best. Any seasoned gangster would have been able to sense the danger Hugo posed to them, but not those two. They seemed satisfied with what had taken place upstairs.

“I know somewhere we could try,” Hugo said, quickening his pace. “A weapons cache they think we don’t know about.”

He led them to the Industrial District where nearly every building was a factory or warehouse. There were only a few homes there and they were all in disrepair, blackened by their proximity to various kinds of manufacturing plants.

“So where is this place?” Abe asked as they wend their way through the district.

Hugo didn’t respond, he just nodded to a three-story building, if it could be called that, made from stacked containers made of metal. “Wonder what Dill keeps in there?” he said satirically.

“How do you know this is a Kelly place?” Vito asked with only mild suspicion.

“Bobby.” Hugo shrugged; it was an easy lie.

He made his way to the door knowing it was unlocked. He had already scoped the building out, making sure it was abandoned. He ushered his companions inside shut the door and locked it.

“What the fuck?” Abe shouted at once, turning back only to come chest to chest with Hugo.

Bright, clinical strip lights burst into life overhead. The room was filled with crates, all sitting on a concrete floor. It was dusty and long forgotten, but there were trails in the dust as if two bodies had been dragged. At the end of the trails were two men, beaten, bound and gagged, propped against a long crate. The security guards who worked the area.

“What’s going on?” Abe demanded, pushing Hugo back into the door.

“We’re going to have a little chat.”

“You wanna run that by me again?”

“Not really.” With almost imperceptible speed, Hugo struck. He thrust the heel of his hand into Abe’s nose. With a yelp, the man stumbled, doubling over as blood dripped from his nostrils. Hugo interlocked his fingers and raised them high in the air, bringing them down on the back of Abe’s head and sending him, unconscious, to the floor.

Vito brought his gun to bear on Hugo. He fired and the bullet grazed Hugo’s ribs, but he ignored the searing pain and advanced. It was difficult to shoot in the enclosed space. Before Vito could fire again, Hugo brought his leg up in a wide arc and kicked the gun out of his hand. Unperturbed, Vito charged at him like the brute he was, but Hugo used his momentum against him. He caught Vito around the neck and held on tightly until he went limp in Hugo’s grasp.

When they awoke, the men were strung up from the pipes in the ceiling by twisted metal wires that dug into their wrists.

“What do you want?” Abe demanded.

“You can’t be that stupid. You know what I want.”

“It wasn’t personal,” Vito said.

“Shut up,” Abe snarled out the corner of his mouth.

“He already knows, else we wouldn’t be here.”

“I do know,” Hugo said quietly, but it was enough to silence them both.

“It was just a job. You know how it is.”

“I don’t know actually. I don’t know what happened. I went out with a friend thinking I was free, and when I came home, the man I love was dead. I’d like to know how that happened.”

“We’re at war. Samuel needed his best guy, so he ordered us to get rid of the distraction. And we did. Don’t get all high and mighty about us killing your boo when you’d have done the exact same thing in our position. Orders are orders.” Abe snorted blood from his nose onto the floor.

“You think? You think if Samuel had ordered me to kill your wife I would have?”

“I know you fucking would, you piece of shit.”

“You’re right. I would have.” Hugo grinned.

“Then you got no right to do this to us. It was just business.” Abe pulled at his restraints but stopped quickly as they dug deeper into his wrists.

“But I didn’t kill your wife and if I had, I’d respect your need to do what I’m about to.”

“Fuck you, man. Do your worst. I knew what I was signing up for when I joined the family, if you didn’t that’s your too bad.”

“My too bad?” Hugo laughed. Abe had managed to trivialise his world ending, condensing the pain Hugo felt every minute of every day into three little words.

“How did it happen?” Hugo asked, no trace of a laugh anymore.

“What?” Vito asked wide-eyed. He did not share Abe’s composure. His brother might have been willing to die for the cause, but it appeared he was not. “What do you mean? You know Samuel ordered the hit on your boy.”

“I know why. I want to know how. How did it happen? What did you do to him? What did he say? What were his last words?”

“You’ve cracked, Ford. Finally lost it. Who knew a dick in your mouth was what was keeping you sane?”

“I’ll make it quick, maybe even painless, if you tell me what I want to know. Tell me about what you did, start to finish, and I won’t touch you.”

Abe and Vito shared a look, then Vito spoke. “We waited for Bobby to tell us you were out, then we walked up to your door and knocked. Your guy answered.”

“How did he seem?”

“Happy,” Abe said simply. “He seemed happy.”

“Then what?”

“He saw Alice. I think he knew then what was about to happen. We shared some small talk. I could tell he was looking for a way out or maybe a way to call you, but then she locked the door. We were told to make it look like an accident, a robbery gone wrong, so we roughed him up a bit.”

“What did you do? Tell me exactly.”

“Hugo,” Vito sounded almost sorry for him. “This is shit you don’t need to know—shit you don’t want to know.”

Hugo stepped forward and punched Vito in the stomach, then in the face. He pulled the bloody and flaking knife from his jacket and held it to Abe’s neck, his eyes never leaving Vito.

“Tell me.”

“He’s gonna kill us anyway, don’t play his fucking games.”

Hugo smiled as he thrust the knife up under Abe’s chin. There was a muted crunch as it broke through bone and kept going. Blood gushed from the wound and over his chest like a waterfall. He coughed and spluttered, shock on his face. His limbs jumped and twitched as red pooled at his feet then finally he was still, pale and no longer for this world.

Vito howled like a wounded animal.

“Now you understand a fraction of what I’m feeling.”

“Fuck you!” Anger had returned his courage.

“I don’t want to torture you, V, but I will. Tell me everything.”

“You’re a sick fuck, you know that?”

“Talk!” Hugo jabbed the blade lightly into his shoulder, enough to cause pain but nowhere near enough to kill. Vito let out a strangled cry.

“We threw him around a bit, alright? That’s it, I’m done talking. This is sick.”

Hugo nodded and ran his hand through his hair.

“You’re done talking, huh? Okay. Let’s see what we can do about that.”

Hugo glanced around the room and spotted rope resting between two of the crates. He grabbed it and hastily tied a noose which he slipped over Vito’s head.

“What are you doing?”

Hugo threw the other end of the rope over a pipe in the ceiling and pulled. He lifted Vito less than a foot off the ground, but it was enough to strangle him. Hugo held it until he was just about to lose consciousness then let his feet drop to the floor.

Vito coughed and spluttered. Before he could recover, Hugo punched him in the gut and the coughing started anew. Hugo hit him over and over until his knuckles hurt. Vito was unconscious and Hugo hadn’t even noticed. He stepped back to watch the man’s blood drip onto the floor, waiting for Vito to wake up. It didn’t take long.

“Still done talking?” Hugo took hold of the noose again and tugged it ever so gently.

“All right. All right. He tried to run.” His voice was soft and rasping. “Find weapons, but we caught him. Alice watched. Went harder than normal, but it wasn’t enough to kill him. We were warming up.”

“Then what?”

Vito cleared his throat with difficulty. “Then Alice told us to leave the room.”

“She what?”

“She told us to leave the room, so we holed up in your bedroom. Honestly, I was glad. That tomato is more messed up than you know. We didn’t come out until she was done and when we did, it was…like you saw it.”

“Could you hear him? What did he say?”

“I don’t really remember.”

“Try.”

Hugo took hold of his head and stuck the bloody knife into his mouth. He just held it there.

“He said that you’d come for him. That you’d save him, and she’d be sorry.” The words were muffled by steel.

The door burst opened behind Hugo, and he turned to see Bobby standing there. They looked sombre. “You have to stop.”

“My list isn’t complete.”

Bobby pulled out their gun and, without so much as another word, shot Vito. It was so quick it took Hugo’s mind a few moments to catch up with what had happened. “That was my kill.”

“This isn’t you. You’re letting grief twist you into something you don’t want to be. That’s enough now.”

“I have spent my whole life killing for Sam. Who are you to tell me I can’t kill for me?” Hugo paused. “Why don’t you hate him? I know he made you kill Hassan. I know that this—” he nodded to Vito, “—will haunt you. I know that Evan will haunt you for the rest of your short life. Is Sam, is the family, really worth any of it?”

“What happened to us?” They sounded hopeless.

“He did. Samuel.”

Hugo pushed past Bobby, leaving them to deal with the mess. Two more names were struck from his list that night.