The numbers rolled by, 381, 382, and sure enough, the last one on the block, 383.  As we slowly drove, I could barely make out the address numbers due to the poorly lit urban street.  There was his jet black Camero parked in the driveway, barely visible since streetlights were scarce.  It was a relatively small house, nothing real fancy or out of the ordinary.  Just an average two story home with a deck on the ground floor and two pane glass windows behind it.  We parked our car right behind his, which probably wasn’t the smartest thing, but we were the mob, we were invincible.  I didn’t know much about why were after this guy, but I knew what I had to do, and that’s just the way the mob works.  As long as no one asks any questions, everything gets done and done right.  I don’t make decisions for myself, and my opinions are given to me.  Everything’s perfect if you simple follow instructions, which is what I was doing here.  I followed Johnny and Mike as we crept around to the back door.  Johnny picked the lock like it was nothing.  When you’re in the mob, you’ve got everything to get the job done.  “All got gloves on?”  Mike asked.
    “Yep, of course,”  we answered.
    “Then let’s get this over with, we get in, make sure he knows what this is about, and finish the job.”
     If I’ve learned anything since I’ve been in the mob, it’s you don’t try to screw with them, and this guy did.  All I really know about this guy is he borrowed some money, about $65,000 and now he won’t pay up.  He has moved twice since last year, first from California to Michigan, then to New York.  I doubt he will be moving again, ever.
    “Ryan!” whispered Johnny forcefully.  “C’mon, gotta go, you know what you have to do, make sure your gun’s loaded.”
    “I’m fine, let’s get goin,” I replied.  We simply opened the back door and walked silently through the dark house.  Mike went through the kitchen, into the living room.  It was a pretty nice house, nothing like the outside, but it looked like this guy had not cleaned since the end or World War II.  He crept past the pizza box covered sofa, being extremely careful not to arouse the slightest noise.  I saw Johnny go upstairs, but I couldn’t see much.  Our tiny six inch flashlights were the only source of light.  As I checked the doorway to the basement, I could see the small beams of light dancing around the poor man’s house, searching for him, knowing very well what would happen if he was found.  I was looking through the briefcase I found under the table, when I heard it.  Like scissors shredding wrapping paper, and probably two more.  Sure enough, two, three more shots and then the thump.  Silencers are easily one of my best friends, and in this line of work, they have to be.  Without thinking, I dropped the briefcase and took off for the back door, being sure to trash as much as  I could on the way out so this would look like a robbery.  Mike and Johnny were right behind me.  I walked through the kitchen, out the door, and went right for the driver’s side door of our new 89’ Ford.  Johnny and Mike got in and we left, simple as that.  We have no remorse, no regrets, and no conscience.
    “What the hell, I really don’t feel like moving, but I can’t stay in bed forever,” I thought.  I rolled over to see the only thing I can’t live without.  Lynn was sleeping soundly, as she usually is before I leave.  I hate leaving her every morning, not knowing if I will ever see her again, but I love what I do, so I have to take the good with the bad.  I’ve been in the mob for about a year now, and we’ve been married for eight months of it, so she knew what she was getting herself into.  I don’t know exactly why she married me, she’s a beautiful woman, about 5’4’’, silky blonde hair, nice long legs, and a smile to die for.  When I’m not carrying  packages of god knows what to god knows where for god knows who, I’m perfectly content just staring into her sparkling blue eyes.  She makes me forget everything I’ve done during the day, and if she didn’t I’m sure I’d have nightmares.  I have this wonderful woman and I don’t know why.  I’m nothing fantastic, 5’11’’, 150lbs, short black hair, and a medium build.  I’m just an average shmoe, and I’ve got her.  I don’t know why and I don’t care.  The money’s rolling in now, my life is finally falling into place.
     It’s only 5:00 AM as I check the clock.  The sun’s pouring long warm rays through the window of  my apartment.  They oh-so-wonderfully light up all the dirty clothes on my floor and the half gone beer cans laying all over.  Even through all the golden tinted trash I can make out the siloutte of my gun sitting on the arm of the chair, polished to a fine silver glow.  That gun has gotten me out of so many rough spots, but the funny thing is, I’ve never really had to use it.  It’s mainly for shock value.  I don’t know what I would do if I actually had to kill someone.  Ha, my biggest secret, I’m a panzy.  I’m in the mob, but I don’t have the stomach to actually kill someone.  I’ve always let Johnny and Mike do the dirty work, I’m more of a clean up crew.  I tell them what to do and where to go and what to break and what to steal, but I don’t know if I could do it myself.  As long as “the guys upstairs” don’t know about this, I’m fine, and I’ve been fine for the last year or so.  I intend to keep it that way.
 I have to be in the “office” by 8:00 AM, and since it’s on the other side of town, I have to leave early.  It’s not to smart to live anywhere near ground zero.  I don’t go messing around there unless I absolutely have to, and today I have to.  This time, it’s one of our own we’re after.  Jim thought it wouldn’t hurt to take an extra couple of grand every week.  He thought no one would notice.  Oops.  I learned over and gently kissed Lynn on the forehead.  “Be back soon,”  I whispered before I left.  She stirred a little but didn’t wake up, just like every morning.  I walked downstairs and out the front door.
    “Hi Ryan, lovely day isn’t it?”  asked June.
    “It certainly is, I hope you enjoy it.”  I answered.  June is a seventy -year old woman who is always checking her mail when I leave.  The mail is never there, but she checks anyway.
    I got to the “office,” which turned out to be a convenient store this time at five to eight.  I was meeting Johnny and Mike, “Hey,” I called to them.  As soon as they saw me, they rushed over, grabbed my arm, and led me out hurriedly.  “What the hell?” I started.
    “Quiet!”  Mike said.  Make this as easy as possible, for Lynn’s sake.
    “Just tell me what’s goin on, I have no clue what the hell you think you’re doing,” I demanded.
    “Don’t play dumb,”  replied Johnny.  “We know what you’re up to.”
    “What?”
    “You tried playing us, it wasn’t Jim taking pay, was it?”  asked Mike.  Jim told us to check your apartment.  So, just to be sure, we did.  We found the money stacks, right next to your bed.  Lynn was at work, but she’ll be joining us soon.
    “Don’t touch her!”  I yelled as we walked through the parking lot to the 89’ Ford I’ve been in so many times.  We drove back to my apartment, I was begging the whole way, but my words were falling on deaf ears.  “I don’t know what he told you, but he’s lying.”  I pleaded, but got no response.
    “Ryan,”  said Johnny, “We were friends, but you know how things work.  The job comes first, and there’s nothing I can do.  I’m sorry.  Trust me, you won’t feel a thing.”
    “What about Lynn?”  I asked.  I swear to god, if you even think of touching her…
    “Shut the hell up, you talk to much,”  shouted Mike just as we pulled into the lot behind my
apartment.  “You first, I’ll be right behind you, so no funny stuff, got it?” he said.  “Got it?” he said again.
    “Got it,” I softly replied.  They led me up the white tile stairs to my floor and made me
open the door to see Lynn tied to a chair in my kitchen.  She was crying, but had control of herself as soon as she saw me.  “I said don’t touch her!”  I shouted once again, as I felt Mike’s gun in my back.
     “Nothing personal.”
    I knew if I was going to do something, it would have to be now.  I saw Johnny sitting on the other end of the room, almost oblivious to what was going to happen.  In an instant, I whipped around and knocked Mike’s gun out of his hand.  They don’t know about the extra revolver I keep in my sock, guess they should have checked.  I pulled it on Mike and kicked him to the floor.  I knew I should have shot him, I wanted to so badly, but I couldn’t.  My one mistake.  By the time Johnny knew what happened, I had complete control.  I had them both lay face down on the floor as I untied Lynn.  I told them to keep face down for the next four minutes, and by that time we would be gone.  We started out, but I didn’t check for any gun in Mike’s sock either, That was my last mistake.  By the time I heard the shot, Lynn was lying on the floor, covered in blood.
    “How could you?”  I screamed, but not before jumping aside and shooting Mike at least twice.  I didn’t know what to do, I saw Lynn lying there, I’m sure she was dead.  It seemed Mike shot her in the back of the head on accident.  He must have  missed me.  Why did he have to miss?  I took off down the stairs as fast as I could.  I ran to our 89 Ford, which I still had keys for.  I jumped in and drove.  I had no clue where I was going, but I was just going.  I can’t go back, and I don’t want to.  I just lost everything that ever meant anything to me.  All in a matter of minutes, everything is gone.  I drove for a day and a half straight.  I was on a small country road in southern Pennsylvania somewhere.  I pulled over to the shoulder of the road and decided to stop.  Stop everything.  I want to just sit here, so I will, I have nothing to live for, nothing left.