By Jason B. via Flickr

Nervously Amato looked out of his window, before answering the door. He wasn’t safe as long as his heart was still beating. They wouldn’t quit until he and Cassie were dead which made his situation dire.

It was just the manager wanting his money. Quickly he shoved the $300 into the old man’s outstretched hand and hastily shut the door. Amato always made sure to pay cash because he didn’t want to be traced. He knew the boys in blue were watching his accounts and waiting for him to make a mistake. It had been nearly a month since he had been ambushed at the hospital parking lot and he had spent it laying low and watching his back.

Since his exile from his beloved Brooklyn, he spend his time amongst the junkies and prostitutes who made their nests in the dingy Palais Motel. It…