The Mafia Hit Man's Daughter by Linda Scarpa Page A

hit the roof, I slipped.
    The guys were out of the cars by that point. One of them grabbed my leg, and I fell on my head. And they just friggin’ pulverized me. They annihilated me. I ended up with a broken nose, a concussion, two fractured ribs, and the rest of my whole body was bruised everywhere. And my head was so swollen, I looked like the Elephant Man. It was pretty bad. These were grown men. They were dressed like gangsters and they all had guns. I was only sixteen.
    When they first got me, they beat me up outside. It started getting a little out of hand, so they threw me in one of the cars and drove across the street to a pretty secluded gas station. Linda’s father was in the driver’s seat; her brother Greg was in the front passenger seat; I was in the backseat, in the middle, with a guy on each side holding me.
    Her father turned around and hit me a few times. He had a good punch—he had a better punch than her brother. I tried moving my head to head butt Greg Junior’s hand. I was pretty sure I hurt his hand, because I moved my face out of the way. I took boxing when I was a kid, and they taught me to move my head and try and break the opponent’s hand when it hit me, so that’s what I tried to do.
    The whole time they were hitting me, her father kept asking me, “Where’s Stephen?” They wanted Stephen more than me, but I wouldn’t rat. I wouldn’t say anything. I just kept telling them that I didn’t know.
    â€œWhere is he?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Boom.
    â€œWhere is he?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Boom.
    This continued on for at least a good ten to fifteen shots.
    Finally I said, “I think he’s at the bowling alley.”
    Crack.
    â€œWhere is he?”
    â€œI think he’s at the bowling alley.”
    Crack.
    But they didn’t stop, until I said, “He’s at the bowling alley,” not “I think he’s at the bowling alley.” They wanted a definite answer.
    These guys then took me from the gas station to the bowling alley, which was about half a block away. It was right on McDonald Avenue, which was famous for being a place where people got killed. When the elevated trains ran overhead, people would blow shots at you and nobody would hear the gunshots.
    I was pretty much toast at that point. I was thinking I was dead. But they took me to the bowling alley in search of my friend Stephen.They stood me up outside, and they were bouncing me around the bowling alley wall like I was a pinball. They were smashing me against the wall.
    Then they went into the bowling alley. It was a tough place to hang out because another gang of guys hung out there. But Linda’s father’s crew threw all those guys out when they were looking for Stephen. A couple friends of mine were there and they told me later they didn’t know how I survived.
    Greg Senior hit me a few times outside.Then he said, “Stephen is not in there.” I was thinking that they were going to take me for the ride at that point and finish me off. They’re still bouncing me around outside some more.Then Larry Mazza said, “Enough, enough. Come on, enough already.”
    I knew Larry before he got involved in the Mafia. He was a delivery boy and he used to deliver food to my house. He kept saying, “Enough is enough.” But that didn’t help. The whole time I was wondering when it was going to end. All I could do was try and make it through.
    I wasn’t going to rat because I knew they were going to kill Stephen for sure. I knew where he was because I had just left him in that vacant apartment building.
    I ended up on the ground, pretty much beaten to a pulp, with my head hanging off the curb. It was still raining and I looked down and saw my blood pouring into a puddle. I was alive probably because I didn’t rat my friend out. If I had, they probably would have offed me right there for being a rat.