Tommy Booth

The knowledge fell across his face like a cold cloth. He sat back, his head resting against the top of the leather booth. He tried to speak but couldn't. His mouth went dry as his hands gripped the edge of the table. 'I can see how you would forget us,' the thin man said softly. 'We were just somethin' for you and your friends to play with.' 'It's a little harder for us to forget,' the chubby one said. 'You gave us so much more to remember.' 'That was a long time ago,' the security guard said, the words coming out in a struggle. 'We were just kids.' 'We're not kids now,' the thin man said. 'Whatta ya' want me to say?' the security guard asked, anger returning to his voice. 'That I'm sorry? Is that what you want? An apology?' 'No,' the thin man said, moving his hands off the table and onto his lap. 'I know you're not sorry and hearin' you say it won't change a fuckin' thing.' 'Then what?' the security guard asked, leaning over his empty platter. 'What do you want?' 'What I've always wanted, Nokes,' the thin man said. 'To watch you die.' The thin man, John Reilly, and his chubby friend, Tommy 'Butter' Marcano, were on their feet, a gun in each hand ...»