Alan, the Champion — Chapter 18 — The Pistol-Whip
Alan hears the blow and both his knees hit the ground.
Before he was King, he was cannon fodder, a convict, a killer. At thirteen, he ran grown men.
I heard the blow and both my knees touched the ground.
And, at the same instant, Kim fell beside me. The back of his head bleeding.
I turned my neck with what was left of me and saw who'd done it.
It was my right-hand man. The lieutenant I trusted more than anybody. The one who was going to take over the neighborhood with me gone, split with a partner.
He still had the revolver raised, holding it by the barrel. He'd pistol-whipped the kid in the back of the head.
— Why'd you get in my fight? — My voice came out half there. — You know nobody gets in my fights.
— You losing your mind, Alan? — He was white as a sheet. — Weren't you about to lose this one? That kid was gonna kill you today. That kid was gonna kill you for real.
— This isn't how I wanted it to end.
— Doesn't matter how you wanted it. — He crouched down and grabbed me by the arm. — You were gonna die. And if you die, the Banca would never forgive it. I couldn't let that happen. Your little game got way too serious. Thank God it's over.
I didn't have the strength to argue. He was right and I knew it.
— What do we do with them? — he asked.