Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
ZAMIR
Marcello starts talking, but he’s staring off into nothing, really racking his brain. “I think I’ve figured out what tipped it all off… You said Andrei Sokolov had broken the alliance by tainting Dario’s product and involving himself in the skin trade with the Albanians? He’s one of the only higher-powered Russian heads left, besides Mar, of course, but she’s on our side.”
Mar whips her head around to look at Marcello but then gives a beaming smile when she realizes they’re not talking shit. I wonder out loud, “The Albanians have teamed up with the Russians… but why?”
? * Dario joins the conversation from the other side of the room. “I don’t know about your area, Marcello, but we wouldn’t let them expand here because they clearly can’t handle the power.” I see Dario stiffen slightly before adding, “Nash’s dad works with Andrei for money, rank, and power. He has nothing else to do because the kids are gone and have moved on. I think our best bet is to pay your father a visit to see if we can get anything out of him about where they could be. He’s the only person connecting you and your sister. It’s the only thing that makes sense about why they would want both of you taken as pawns. I’m wondering if he has crossed Andrei…”
“You won’t get anything out of him. He could fucking care less about us. I can promise you that.” The venom in Nash’s voice when he talks about his dad would be concerning to most, but we are all a bunch of delinquents who have either killed our fathers or are actively plotting their murders.
Noah mentions, “He’s old, though. I bet he’s forgotten to cover his tracks somewhere. Take me over there, and I can raid his tech while you all have fun with him trying to get answers out of him.”
That’s what we settle on. We all pile into one of the SUVs. I’m in the middle row with Nash and Ellie. Vin and Noah are in the very back, snickering and giggling like a pack of school girls, and Marcello’s driving while Dario is in the passenger seat.
In less than ten minutes, we’re pulling up to what I’m guessing is Nash’s dad’s place, and Nash looks petrified. All that makes me want to do is hold him in my arms and tell him everything will be okay.
But I genuinely don’t know if everything is going to be okay.
None of us do.
For a cop, this man is one stupid fucker. He has a spare key under the potted plant on the front porch that Nash pulls out and unlocks the door with. We all head in behind him, well, everyone except Dario. He’s in the car, keeping watch.
When we enter the ranch-style house, the living room comes into view; I spot his dad in his recliner, legs propped up, snoring away. Noah is off, running to the back room, most likely looking for a computer or laptop he can hack into.
Goddamn, he didn’t even flinch when we opened the door.
Being the piece of shit he is, I’ll never understand how he isn’t dead yet.
Nash casually says, “Well, that was easier than expected.” Nash’s voice is what finally wakes his dad up from his slumber, and he’s up out of his recliner looking at Nash and Ellie like he’s seen two ghosts.
That is proof enough for me that he knew exactly what was going on and doesn’t care what happens to them. He knew Nash and Ellie were supposed to be dead right now by the shock on his face. He has one kid who’s actively kidnapped and being tortured as we speak, and what’s he doing?
Sleeping like a goddamn baby.
I hate judging, but from the stories Nash has told me, and how he treated him as a kid, it’s not far-fetched to think he had something to do with setting all of this up… Whether that was to pay for a debt he owed someone or to get more power here in their city is still unclear.
I don’t find myself asking any more questions. I’m quick, going for his knee and sweeping his leg out from under him. It throws him off balance, and he hits the floor. I grab his hands behind his back, and Marcello’s beside me with the zip ties for his wrists.
In a sorry tone, I start to explain to Nash’s dad, “Hate meeting you this way, Pops, but I have a bad feeling you had something to do with the harm done to two of my favorite people in this shitty world. One of those people happens to be your fucking son.” My words come out in a hiss while tightening the zip tie a little too tight.
He hisses out in pain. “Great. You’re one of the fagg—” He’s cut off before he even gets the whole slur out by Marcello’s red-bottomed loafer to his face. The blood-curdling scream should hurt my soul, but it only makes me smile. That and the blood pouring from his busted mouth.
No one should be able to get away with openly using slurs.
In a false, helpful tone, I whisper through his screams of pain, “Marcello doesn’t like slurs… I wouldn’t if I were you. But yes, I am an openly bisexual man, and that was a really big reaction to finding out I care for your son. Something you clearly can’t do.”
He’s bucking around like a wild bull, so I throw my one hand over my head, making a show like I’m riding one. “Wish I had my cowboy boots on so I could spur your ass with them.” That’s what tips all of them over the edge.
Noah walks back into the living room whistling and says, “Oh shit, I walked right into the fun shit.” He missed what I said but saw everything else.
They’re all bent over in laughter at my antics, and I can see the stress on Nash’s face ease slightly for just a moment, and then his horrendous sperm donor is talking again. “Just fucking kill me. I don’t want to be taken anywhere with you all.”
Through my laughter, I get out, “Well, Papi, you don’t have an option… clearly. Fuck, you cops might actually be dumber than I thought.” I climb off his back, and Marcello’s right beside me, picking up his other arm and raising him to his feet. “How’s it feel to be on the receiving end of being cuffed up?”
“It feels great,” he spits the last word.
At that, Ellie jumps in. “Spit on one of my boyfriends again, and I’ll crack your jaw so you won’t be able to open your mouth at all. Fuck knows it’ll save me from hearing you spew the hatred that comes from your disgusting soul.” She pauses a beat, almost like she doesn’t know whether she wants to say this next thing, but finally adds, “How a soul with so much light came from you is my only question, but then again, that’s what trauma does to someone.”
We throw his dad into the trunk of the SUV, much to his dismay, and drive back with the music blaring so we don’t have to hear his bitching.
Ellie and Nash head inside Dario’s house while we head out to Dario’s carnage room, where he conducts all his torture.
I hum in appreciation at the security as Dairo puts his code in the padlock. We get John hung up from his wrists and ready to be questioned. With this being Nash’s dad, none of us knew how he would take it, but the disgust on Nash’s face after John called him what he did back at his house was the nail in his coffin. I think it was enough for Nash to see he hadn’t changed one bit.
The numb expression on John’s face once he’s hanging in front of us tells me he’s either been through this before or thinks he will get out of it.
Dario comes up beside me and starts speaking directly in his face. “Your daughter has been taken.”
John doesn’t react to that news, and nothing changes about his demeanor. I’ve never wanted to harm a person more than Nash’s dad… well, my dad. I want to do foul things to that piece of shit as well.
I could just torture them together…
Call it the “Anti-shitbag Dad Training.” It would have hours of therapy a day, somebody in there using them as a punching bag purely because they think they’re untouchable, and a healthy dose of humiliation is clearly needed for both of them.
It would be like the pray the gay away boot camps, but instead it would fix the shitty fathers they decided to be. Ohhh , we could do the shock therapy on them! It’s been proven that it doesn’t help anything, but we’ll use it anyway. Or maybe force them to take some DMT to kill those horrendous egos they have.
Dario smacks my arm, pulling me out of my joyous daydream. “I don’t even want to know what you were thinking about. We have the video of Willow being assaulted.” His voice cracks like he’s holding back tears, and I find myself grabbing his shoulder to comfort him. He adds, “I don’t think John here cares, though, but I don’t know what will hurt him. He clearly could give a fuck less about his children.”
Looking up to the man helplessly hanging by his wrists, he barks out, “They’re both fuck ups. I don’t give a shit what happens to them.” We’ve clearly hit some kind of sore spot with that one.
Dario’s down his throat before I can get my first word out. “Your daughter is a goddamn doctor at the age of twenty, and your son is a starting rookie quarterback in the pros… how in the hell are they fuck ups?!”
John growls out, “They’re both…”
“Bisexual,” Nash says from the back of the room as he walks in with Isabella.
John immediately thrashes around again at the reminder that his kids love whoever they decide to love.
I try to get Nash to leave again, not wanting him to feel like he needs to be in here. “Nash, you don’t have to do this. We have it.”
“I think I might be the most triggering thing to him, though…” Before I know it, Nash grabs the sides of my face and kisses me like he needs me to breathe. Then it hits me that he’s doing this because he wants to piss his dad off, and I have never been more okay with being used in my life.
John starts yelling, “This is exactly why I don’t give a fuck about them anymore! Men shouldn’t tongue other men! You’re a fucking disgrace, Nash. And with this being with one of your teammates… you should be ashamed.”
Nash sucks in a breath with that last sentence of his dads, but I don’t let him have those thoughts bouncing around in his head for long. I pull away, grabbing his face, mirroring what he’s doing to mine, and whisper to him, while we’re nose to nose, “We love who we love. You don’t need to be ashamed of anything, Nash Hayden.”
His dad hisses, “He’s not a goddamn Hayden.”
“No, he’s a Barone,” Marcello growls while walking up behind us. “Who has you strung up like a puppet working for them?” Marcello carries on, completely skipping over the heartfelt sentiment he just said to Nash.
“I’ll never fucking tell you.”
I question him, “So you value money over your daughter’s life?”
He doesn’t say a word.
I need to kill him.
* ? Y’all Want A Single - Korn