DiMario's Revenge

DiMario's Revenge

Jack Adler

Price: $5.99


Can two young men from different walks of life – a street tough and a pre-law student – keep secret their involvement in a homicide that threatens their lives and well being? Both young men achieve later success, with the street tough going straight under a changed identity and becoming a successful businessman while the student rises to high political office.
But their secret catches up to them in complex and dual blackmail schemes as they are forced into dangerous and deadly actions while seeking revenge and redemption.
Can they survive revelation of their shared secret? Will they be able to avoid the clutches of organized crime interests? Can they foil the attempted blackmail of a U.S. Senator? And will they finally succeed in overcoming the stigma of their pasts?
The pressure mounts for each man, and their families, as their lives again lethally interact with a dramatic and ironic conclusion.

PUBLISHED BY: iEnovel.com
ISBN: 1449953956
CATEGORIES: Mystery/Suspense
KEYWORDS: DiMario, Revenge, DiMario's Revenge

EBOOKS BY iEnovel.com

EBOOKS BY Jack Adler

COPYRIGHT Jack Adler/2009

Chapter 1

Eric Hiller walked down the few stone steps into the cellar of his three-story, walk-up apartment building making sure he didn’t trip. He gripped a brown supermarket paper bag containing four old textbooks that he couldn’t sell but still wanted to save. The weak overhead bulb, which at first revealed little more than the outline of objects standing and piled amid dust and spider webs, was already turned on. But he attached no significance to the light being on. Someone might be in the cellar or simply have forgotten to turn the light off, which happened often. Many tenants put various pieces of furniture such as dressers and bookcases and other smaller items in the cellar which served as a makeshift storage center.
No sooner was he on the cellar floor than he heard angry voices and two shadowy figures standing under the dim light farther into the cellar. Before he could retreat back to the steps one of the men growled as he pointed what looked like a pistol at him, “Who the fuck is this? Get over here!”
What had he blundered into, Eric thought, uncertain what to do? Turning and running back to the cellar entrance was still possible, but he hesitated in fear of what the gun-holder might do. As his eyes adjusted more to the semi-darkness he could now make out that one of the two men was Vince DiMario, a neighborhood tough around his age at nineteen. DiMario and he barely nodded to each other anytime their paths crossed, which wasn’t often. DiMario didn’t seem to have a job, or a normal one, and he wasn’t going to school either as far as he knew. For that matter, Eric wasn’t even sure where DiMario lived, though he knew it wasn’t in his building. Word was that DiMario, believed to be a budding criminal or already one, rented a room with a family across the street. But he seemed to roam around on his own, hanging out with other tough-looking guys around his age or older.
“Don’t move, asshole!” the other man ordered, pointing what was now clearly a gun at him. He was a burly, older man, probably in his late twenties, with a scowl on his dark, chiseled face as he brandished his weapon.
Eric froze. Breath collected in his mouth. He gripped the bag with the books tighter as if it might protect him.
“He’s just a kid in the neighborhood,” DiMario said in a dismissive tone. He kept a wary stance, only feet away from the man who now shifted the direction of the pistol to threaten both of them. As he was able to focus better in the scant light Eric could see that DiMario wasn’t as tall as the other man, but he was well built with a craggy face and thick black hair that curled over his ears. He wore a black leather jacket while the other man had a dark unbuttoned suit.
“Come here!” the stranger commanded Eric. His voice was harsh and he looked as if any resistance would make him press the trigger. Nearly stumbling, fearful for his life, Eric obeyed and followed the man’s finger to be positioned farther away from the cellar steps. Now the hostile man, still aiming the pistol, was between him and any escape. He was in his, or their, clutches. Why couldn’t someone else come into the cellar just now; he thought, listening in vain to hear footsteps. But most of the tenants in the building, he knew, were probably still at work or ensconced in their apartments.
Despite the fear he felt Eric bridled at the use of kid. DiMario wasn’t much older than him, if at all. Everything else that could be compared about them was different. He was a college student living at home, only a couple of flights upstairs from the cellar, while DiMario was believed to be an orphan. As far as street smarts, DiMario was clearly his superior. Physically, he was dominant, too. DiMario was about his height at five feet, ten inches, but with a sturdier build. According to gossip he had even done some Golden Gloves boxing, but without winning a single bout. But what was going on here? What had he inadvertently walked into?


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