Fighting For Light: A Dark Sports Romance (The Coldwell Brothers)

51. Kai

“Please, I don’t know anything else. Please, just kill me,” Tyler groans.

I pace in front of him. Emerson and Liam stepped back so I could take the lead. I don’t usually, but the fact he was there to kill my wife flipped a switch and turned me into an animal. I don’t care how loud he screams or how much it hurts.

“You came after my wife!“ I sneer. “You are scum. You are the lowest of the low. She’s pregnant!“ I roar and stab him in the hand.

He moans, and then I take the knife out, slicing his finger clean off. He screams so loud it makes my eardrums hurt, but I ignore it. He sobs, looking at his mutilated hand in shock as it squirts blood. I don’t bother trying to staunch it. He won’t last much longer. Though he deserves to die a slow and painful death.

“I am done letting you pieces of shit come after my family. You will be an example. I will be the one sending pieces of you back to your family as a message. They did this to you, you know. They are the ones who sent you to your death the moment you came after what’s mine!”

He flinches, and I slice another finger off. He cries out in agony, and then it suddenly cuts off. He passed out, and his head lolled to the side. I throw the knife on the table, leaving the room in disgust. I feel like a caged animal, and if anyone gets too close, I’ll rip their throat out.

I want to find Cordi and lie next to her. I don’t like doing this stuff, but this is the world my brothers and I were born into. These people, our father, don’t do things in half-measures. If we hadn’t taken the steps we did, we would be back under his roof with nowhere to go. I shudder at the thought and go to the bathroom. Blood is splattered on my face and hands. I’ll have to burn my clothes, all of our clothes. I rinse my face and stare into my bloodshot eyes. I could be going to hell when my time comes, but I hope that maybe, just maybe, He understands enough to forgive me. Men were sent to take my family from me, to take my child. I would have mowed them all down if I had to, and as bad as it sounds, I don’t think there was any other way for me to do it. They don’t play by the rules, so neither can we.

The other man Clarence brought is in the other room, still sedated. Emerson angles his head in the direction of that room, and I follow to help him hang the man from his wrists. When we’re done, we leave to let him wake up.

A moment later, Mom clicks down the stairs. Her eyes drag over me, then settle on Emerson. “Where is your brother?” she asks. I flick my thumb to the room with all of his computers. She nods and crosses her arms. “Did you learn anything?”

“Costas, like we thought.” I sigh.

She takes a deep breath and releases it like it takes tremendous effort. “Let me know if you find out anything else, okay?” We both nod. She turns to start up the stairs, then angles her head to the side. “I never wanted this for any of you.” Emerson and I glance at each other. “Your wife is currently upstairs waiting for you, Kai. Don’t make her wait much longer,” she says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She goes back up the stairs, quietly closing the door behind her.

“Let’s get this over with,” I mutter. Emerson grunts in response and gets Liam.

Liam tried to find something on him, but the man is a ghost, which is not a good sign. Tyler, on the other hand, is barely breathing. I’m sure it won’t be long. That or Emerson might have mercy on him and take him out of his misery, though he deserves worse. I think we got all we could get from him.

The man, who is currently hanging from the ceiling with duct tape over his mouth, is glaring at Liam and me. The sound of a muffled gunshot makes the man jump, and his chains rattle with the movement. I guess Emerson had mercy on Tyler.

“We could have gotten more out of him,” Liam mutters.

“After multiple fingers, his ear, and when Cordi stabbed him? I doubt it.”

Liam shrugs and levels his stare on our new guest, who’s keeping it together pretty well. He’s white and about six-feet, with brown hair and brown eyes. He’s fit and wearing all black.

The door opens, and Emerson steps through, putting his gun in his back waistband. He doesn’t stop, he just charges the enemy and rips the tape off his face. “Start talking. Now,” Emerson commands.

“What do you want me to tell you that you don’t already know?” He sighs, overconfident. He’s hiding something.

“Indulge us,” I tell him in a bored tone.

“We were sent to get Esmarie Coldwell, so that’s what we did. Well…tried.”

“Who hired you?” I ask him.

He attempts a shrug despite his hands tied above him.

Emerson punches him in the ribs, and a crack echoes. “Wrong answer. Try again,” I mutter. He grunts and tries to take a deep breath.

“You didn’t bring me all this way for me to tell you I was hired by the Costas.”

I flick a look at Liam. That’s different. He’s not a Costa goon. He’s a hired gun. That changes things.

“You’re right, we didn’t. I would rather you tell me who exactly hired you, as in a name.” He scoffs.

“They don’t give names.”

“Did you make contact through the web, phone, or face-to-face?” Liam asks.

“That’s not how it works. The only reason I know it was the Costas is because he sent a few of his men for the extraction team.”

“How did you get involved with them then?” I ask.

“Could you at least let me down? My arms are pulling out of their sockets, and it’s very uncomfortable.”

I chuckle dryly. “I’m happy to make your stay here more uncomfortable if you don’t answer my questions.”

He sighs and looks between me and my brothers. “What’s your last name?”

“If you knew who you were coming after, then you would already know that information.”

“I do know that information. I wanted to make sure I knew who I was talking to.”

“You know exactly who you’re talking to, so out with it. I’m tired,” Liam says.

“They hired me to get Esmarie Coldwell through whatever means necessary and take her to Massachusetts. But they told me not to kill her. I figured it had been a while since I’d done a smash-and-grab kind of job. I wanted something fresh,” he says with a sadistic grin.

Emerson growls, and I don’t stop him as he pummels the man’s face. He does his best to avoid Emerson’s fists but doesn’t get far. “Don’t break his jaw, One, we need him to talk,” I mutter. He breathes in and out like an angry bull and takes a step back. The man spits at our feet and smiles with blood coating his teeth.

“Where were we?” he asks. “Oh, yes. No, l never met them face-to-face. I don’t usually discuss business like that. Why expose yourself unnecessarily? That just seems silly.”

“You’re one smug bastard,” Liam says.

He studies us like we are him. “So you guys do your own dirty work? I figured if you were anything like Coldwell, you wouldn’t get your hands dirty.”

I make eye contact with Emerson. Interesting.

“We are not our father,” I reply coolly.

He looks between all of us. “No, no, you are not.”

“I’m getting bored,” Liam mutters. Emerson punches him again.

He coughs. “Come on, man. Ask me what else you want to know. They obviously want all of you for something, but like I said, I don’t know much, so either ask or shoot me in the head. This is terribly boring.”

“That’s seriously all you know?” I ask him.

He nods.

I glance at Emerson and Liam.

Emerson pulls his pistol from his back waistband, ready to shoot it.

“But... I could help you,” he says.

Emerson lifts the barrel of the gun to his forehead.

Liam scoffs. “Yeah, and my best friend is the Queen of England.”

I shoot him a look, and he shrugs, the corner of his mouth tipping up. My brother is crazy.

“Wait,” Emerson says and drops the gun.

“One?” I ask him. He glances at me and nods towards the door. We file out behind him and close the door, following him down to the hall so our guest can’t hear us.

Emerson spins around and rubs his chin in thought. I can see the wheels turning in his head. “He could be useful to us. He might be more useful to us alive than dead.”

“How do you figure?” Liam asks.

“I believe him. He was probably given a job, and that was it. It would make sense that he didn’t get much information regarding his target. He got the job and agreed to it. That simple.”

“It’s true, not a lot of questions are asked for things like these. When the Costas were hiring hackers, they gave as little information as possible. Once they decide to hire you, you get the bare minimum information for the job, and then you’re expected to complete it within their timeframe.”

“So, what do you want to use him for? How would that be helpful to us?” I ask Emerson.

“He’s a gun for hire, so what if…we use him to send a message?” Emerson asks.

“It’s too close. It would be way too obvious,” I mutter.

“He’s right, One,” Liam says.

Emerson sighs. “I still think we should let him live long enough to send him back to Massachusetts with pieces of the one that tried to kill Cordi. It would be safer for us. It would also be a major show of strength. They came for us and failed.”

“But you’re sending him to his death,” Liam says.

“He was going to die here or there. What difference does it make?” Emerson asks.

“Do you think he could get away after delivering a suck on this in the form of body parts?” I ask.

Emerson rubs his hand over his buzz cut. “It’s unlikely.”

“I agree, it’s the safest option for everyone. Use him as the messenger,” Liam says.

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. “Fine, do it. I’d rather get rid of him now, but if you think that’s what’s best, then so be it. I’m going to go check on my wife,” I mutter and pull my t-shirt off, tossing it in the trash that we will eventually burn.

Time seems to disappear down here. The only reason I know it’s morning, maybe even afternoon now, is because the sun is shining through the windows of the lower level. I lift my heavy feet up the stairs and go into the living room. Cordi’s not there, so I assume she went up to our room. The whole house is quiet. Mom is likely in bed, too.

Opening the door slowly, I peek my head in. Cordi’s lips are parted, and she’s sprawled out across the bed, sleeping soundly. I stand there for a moment, overwhelmed yet again. My knees feel weak, and my stomach hurts. Taking a last look at my wife, I trudge into the bathroom to take a shower and scrub my body. I don’t want a single bit of what happened downstairs to touch Cordi.

When I get out, I tip-toe back into our room, slide myself under the covers, and stare at my wife until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.