Neurotic (Jason McCann)

Chapter 2

Jason's POV

One Week Later: Saturday

"You remember who's coming to pay us a visit today, right?" Alex asks me while stuffing toast, and other food items into his mouth. I nod eating my eggs. "Okay just making sure bro, you know it's your turn to interrogate." Swallowing my food, I nod once more.

"Around what time is he supposed to be here?" Questioning my brother, I take a sip of my orange juice. "That ass, should had been here alre-" Alex was then interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

"Well I guess that's him then, huh?" Smirking wickedly, I guzzle the last of my orange juice. "Oh, what a lovely surprise. Come on in Mr. Santiago- take a seat. Are you hungry? We have food." Alex fakes politeness, trying to butter up our guest.

"Jason, you know what to do. Handle our business... you know where to find me, when you're done. Good day Mr. Santiago, sir." My brother tipped his hat, walking out the room.

I cut right to the chase. Not wanting to waste another minute, of this guy staring at me nervously. They always have that same scared expression, when they're being questioned about our goods and products.

"You got our money?" I put my elbows on table, staring back at the terrified man. "H-hey Jason. How are you buddy?" The stammer in his voice, made me chuckle... darkly.

"Don't Jason me- I said, do you have our money?" I ask already getting pissed off. "Yeah, I do b-but not all of it yet." He stutters nervously. Whelp.

"Not all of it yet, eh? Well that's not all of the fucking money." I stay deadly calm, cracking my knuckles one by one. "J-Jason... I swear I'll have it all by next week." His hands began to shake uncontrollably. Ah, the ability I have on people.

"I just fucking said, don't Jason me! Now I'm going to ask you one more time, where in the hell is the money Romero?" I probe once again, leaning closer to the table.

"Okay, okay, I uh- I spent it all on cocaine and heroin. I just had to get me some man, I didn't mean to spend your money." Romero rambled on, nervously looking my way.

I let out a dark chuckle, shaking my head at him. "Oh, Romero, Romero, Romero... you my friend are in deep shit. I hope you understand that I do mean to kill you." Raising my voice to the next octave. I glare back at him, with the most disgust I had in my body.

"P-please Ja- I mean Mr. McCann, I'll do all I can do to get your money back. I'll work it all off... if I have to. But please don't kill me, man. I h-have a family... a wife, and a son." His pleads mean shit to me. I shake my head with no sign of sympathy.

"I don't give one flying fuck! You are a dead man! Malcolm, give me the gun now!" I furiously yell, nothing but anger radiating off of me.

Malcom handed me the gun. Before Romero could protest again, I shot three bullets into his skull. All of them, aimed in between his eyes. His blood splattered everywhere. That's what the bastard gets, for messing around with our money.

Nobody, and I mean nobody, fucks me and my gang over on a job! Especially if you're spending the money. I gave that asshole one fucking job, and he blew it. Which cost him his life, and his family not seeing him again. That's one thing I don't play around with. That's my money, my family, my friends, and pretty soon... my precious Malarie. I will protect her with all my heart, and she better be glad about it.

"Ugh! I had to kill an old crusty man today. But that's what his drug addict, ass gets." I utter to myself, as I massage my temples vigorously. "You alright, McCann?" Malcom asks me, getting up from his chair.