38. Chapter 38
Chapter 38
R oman
Ivan and Xander arrived at the mortuary not long after Luna left with Milo. We planned to use some of Sylvie’s instruments while we worked Montgomery over, and Drakos grinned thoughtfully as he examined a wicked-looking scalpel with Sylvie Spade’s name engraved on it.
I idly wondered how many living people had found themselves in this room tied to a gurney besides Lionel and Monty. The Spade family had some unusual hobbies.
“I can’t lie, Cross. This is going to be fun. You’re a piece of shit and a fucking blight who still thinks he’s better than anyone else. But this world will be safer without you.”
“You’re all nothing but bottom-feeding trash,” Montgomery spewed as he tried to thrash on the table. “My men will come after you.”
Ivan shook his head. “Your men are dead or incarcerated, you stupid fucktwit. Now it’s your turn.” He hooked forceps into Montgomery’s mouth, pried his teeth open, and stuffed wads of cotton inside as the man spewed garbled insults. Then he slapped a few pieces of duct tape across it. “Now, who wants to go first?”
“Fuck, yes. I will.” Drakos raised his hand and grabbed a stool, then sat and rolled it to the foot of the gurney. He studied Montgomery’s feet for a moment and grimaced. “You have foot fungus, asshole. I planned to rip your toenails off, but this is disgusting.”
Ivan leaned over to look at the man’s feet, then wrinkled his nose. “Goddamn, you weren’t kidding. Use rubber gloves if you’re set on it. I’d wear a face shield too.”
Drakos sighed dramatically and gloved up. He put a face shield on and grabbed some plyers and a metal bowl. Then he started methodically ripping off Montgomery’s toenails as he sang “Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M. I'd forgotten Drakos had such a good singing voice. He sometimes used to hum or sing under his breath at the Ranch.
He paused every once in a while to savor Montgomery’s pain as the man screamed in agony behind the duct tape, wreathing on the gurney. Drakos threw the last toenail into a bloody steel bowl, then pulled off the stained gloves and threw them in the basin as well.
I stepped to the side of the table and looked down at Montgomery’s face. “My turn.” I picked up a heavy, industrial-grade fire extinguisher. “You broke Luna’s arm–so I’m going to return the favor.” I smashed it hard against Montgomery’s tibia and heard a distinct crunch. Montgomery sobbed and choked around the cotton jammed in his mouth, tears and mucus running down the sides of his face. He didn’t look disdainful or haughty now.
Ivan picked up a cordless nail gun lying on the back counter. “Who keeps a goddamned nail gun in their embalming room?” he asked rhetorically.
Drakos grinned manically. “Sylvie Fucking Spade. That’s who.”
For the first time, Xander moved, straightening off the wall and holding out his hand. “May I?” Ivan nodded and handed the nail gun over.
Xander walked over and stared down, unblinking, at the man on the table. “I heard what you did to Peter.” Montgomery’s terrified, pain-filled eyes seemed confused, but Xander explained. “The day you came to Bitter Creek with your investor friends. I was in the cell beside his. He’d tried to run again, and you said you were there to ‘teach him a lesson.’ I know what you did.”
Montgomery’s face went gray, and he started shaking his head frantically.
Xander leaned over and murmured in his ear, “ Te videbo in infero.”
I struggled to translate the Latin phrase, and then it clicked. Xander told Montgomery he’d see him in Hell. If Xander thought he was going to Hell, the rest of us were fucked.
He pressed the nail gun against Montgomery’s crotch and pulled the trigger. Then he moved the nail gun down a few inches and pulled it again. Montgomery’s head flew back, and the tendons in his neck bulged as a muffled, high-pitched screech tore out of him. He hadn’t fully recovered before Xander circled the table and pushed the gun against the backs of Montgomery’s hands, the nails gouging into the metal table. Then Xander laid the nail gun down and backed up.
Drakos patted him on the back, his expression grave for once. “Brutal but brilliant, brother. I think Peter would have approved. We’ve got the rest.” Xander stared at Montgomery Cross, bleeding and struggling on the table, then he nodded and walked out. I had a hazy recollection of Peter; he was one of the boys who hadn’t made it.
Ivan came forward with a scalpel. “And now it’s my turn. I’m going to gut you like a fish and use your intestines to decorate the inside of your casket. This is going to hurt.”
A few days later, my cell phone rang as I sat in my office, finishing up some last-minute work before heading home to Luna. I looked forward to going home now since it had gone from a cold mausoleum where I slept and ate an occasional meal, to a warm place full of light, laughter, and reminders of hers scattered around. Diego’s name flashed on my screen.
“Rodriguez. What’s going on?”
“Hey, motherfucker,” Diego chuckled. “I just heard you’re having a renewal of vows at the Wild West Wedding Chapel next week. I better be invited.”
Gazing out my office window, I grinned as I took in the Las Vegas skyline in the dusky light. “You’re invited, and Heath Cassidy is performing the ceremony. He took a liking to Luna when she couldn’t get enough of his whorehouse memorabilia. Roy and Rick are not invited, though, just so we’re clear. I don’t want them sitting in the back, fantasizing about double penetrating my wife.”
He laughed. “Fair enough, but you can’t stop people from having a few thoughts when your wife looks that fine.”
I sighed. “She asked Heath about his brothel memorabilia, and he offered to teach her to shoot.”
“He only does that when he really likes someone.”
“I know. How are things at the bar and shop?” The Area Fifty-Three biker bar was located near Bonanza and Maryland Parkway in North Las Vegas and was usually packed with bikers, hotheads, and clueless tourists. Diego and Ivan were partners and owned the bar together. It was in a rougher part of town and an MC club hangout.
“Well, neither has burned down yet. I’m turning business away at the shop, and Fifty-Three is always jammed with fuckin’ rubberneckers who have death wishes. There’s been a lot of activity about Luna’s father, though. A few members have been pulled in for questioning.”
I leaned back in my chair. “I’m not surprised, we’ve been dragged in too. Luna gave her statement to an officer, but she hasn’t seen her dad in years.” It was better for Diego and his crew to have plausible deniability.
“I also heard through the drug trafficking grapevine that the drug syndicate cracked down on the Stracks, and Silas is going crazy again because his other son is missing now.”
Xander stepped into my doorway, and I waved him inside. He’d let his hair down and untucked his shirt. I looked down to check and see if he still had his shoes on. “We’re aware,” I told Diego. “If you hear of the Stracks making a move, I’d appreciate a heads up.”
“You got it. I’ll see you next week at the Wild West Wedding Chapel. Lucky fucker.”
I set my phone down. “Did you hear that? A few of Diego’s men got dragged in and questioned.”
Xander nodded. “It’s fine, since they don’t know anything. Have you told Luna about the vow renewal next week?”
“No. I’ll tell her tonight.”
He cocked his head and studied me. “For such a controlling man, you’ve done a good job of almost ruining things with the one woman who matters.”
“What do you mean, asshole?”
He crossed his arms. “How you met, what you planned to do to her, how you drugged and tricked her into marrying you. Have you even told her how you feel?”
Scowling, I stood and shrugged into my jacket. “That’s none of your damn business.”
“You’re my brother, Roman. So I decided it’s my business. Don’t be a coward, and don’t let those fuckers take anything else from you. Tell her how you feel and lock it down.”
Xander rarely talked this much, so I knew he thought it was important. I paused at his serious tone, thought about what he’d said, and nodded. “I will. Now get your ass out of my way so I can go home to my wife.” He grinned and stepped aside.