Ciro stretched, arms raised above his head in a cat-like motion, seated on the patio of Harry's bakery, then used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe his face. Probably around noon, judging by the sun. No one had warned him how slow the life of a loan shark could be when the money and time really do most of the work for you. It was something all those fat cats on Wall Street had learned a long time ago. The downside was that you had to find something to keep your brain from melting from inactivity. Ciro read what he could get his hands on. He found it made him less intimidating while not on the job which was exactly the kind of attention he wanted.

He was currently yet partway through some short story entitled "The King of Cats", which, while enjoyable, he found himself too often day-dreaming through. Presently the allowed his arms to drape over the sides of the chair before forcing himself up to his feet. He walked past the window and raised his hand in acknowledgement to Jacob at the counter before continuing on his way. He wandered mostly. He enjoyed the parks near the lake. He'd been told a long time ago that his father had commissioned one for his late uncle, but he'd never been able to track it down. He assumed it had long been renamed.

Crossing the road away from the park he first became aware of a sedan slowly passing him in front of the crosswalk. He made his way across and pulled the collar of his jacket up over his neck. In hindsight he behaved much like a deer having never been hunted before. Unaware that he even should be afraid. Ignorant that anyone anywhere could wish him harm. Continuing on back towards his apartment he resigned himself to an early night in and sleep. He passed Harry's again on the way and spotted Jacob standing outside, puzzled, near what appeared to be a couple large barrels of a flour delivery. Ciro decided he had nothing better to do...

"What's all this about?" he asked, jogging across the road,

"Some new guy dropped off some flour for the shop but just dropped them here in front of the shop. Didn't even offer to help bring it inside, asshole."

"Here," Ciro tilted a barrel to the side and began to roll it awkwardly towards the door. Jacob propped it open with his arm and Ciro left it at the doorway to the back kitchen. He stepped back out and repeated the process with the second. While inside, he heard the sound of an engine pass the front of the storefront. He walked back through the small front sitting area and out to Jacob on the side walk. Following the young adolescent's gaze down the street, he spotted the same dark sedan from the park...

Ciro turned back towards the building and felt himself being lifted from his feet into the air by a wave of warm air. Pleasant at first, and then immediately scathing, his entire body registered pain all at once, overloading his neurons so he couldn't notice the swift crack his skull made against the pavement as he fell from his temporary levitation. His eyes opened to the sky and shards of glass rain that pelted his cheeks. He coughed and watched a short burst of crimson emit from his lips into the air before his eyes. Only then did the ringing in his ears give way to the high pitched screams echoing down the street. He pivoted his head to his left and caught sight of Jacob lying in the street beside him. The young boy's dark eyes were wide and his mouth hung open having the unsettling effect on Ciro that the screams were still echoing from his mouth.

He heard the engine again, and the protest of tires rounding the corner behind him. The vehicle paused behind him, allowing him to see the top of the vehicle silhouetted against the sky above. Two long thin lines extended from the side and spit a line of fire over him. Golden brass chimed against the road around his head as casings fell to earth before the tires squealed away again leaving Ciro alone the taste of metal fresh in his mouth.

A face pushed its way into his view; a man. His mouth was moving but Ciro could only hear the deathly scream from Jacob's open mouth. He felt himself lifted again, roughly and the muscles in his legs buckled a moment under his weight. The man said something to him, but Ciro pushed him away. He looked at Harry's, now a burning skeleton, and took a couple steps backwards before tripping over the curb and thrusting an arm out to steady himself against the opposing building. Then he ran. The breeze cool against his blood-dampened face and clothes, he ran to escape the ever-screaming face of Jacob in the street. He ran until he couldn't hear him anymore.

He ran right out of Chicago.