43. Wynn
WYNN
He eyed me. “I’ve told you time and time again it’s fine.”
“Your grip on your gun has been loose,” I said, glancing down. I’d been watching him, and his hand was definitely not normal. “You hold it differently than before.”
“I don’t care about my hand, Wynn,” he said with a frustrated huff before turning back to the street. “I’m typing slower than normal, and it’s stiff, but I seriously couldn’t care less. I’m strong. My work is fine. You and Leona are alive. That’s all that matters to me.”
My heart sank. I knew it was still causing him problems. I opened my mouth to reply, but a car pulled up to the curb, and a man hopped out. He began walking toward the tunnel entrance. After just a few steps, the car sped off.
It wasn’t Ervin Vokshi.
Ciel and I exchanged a look.
“Follow him?” he asked.
I nodded .
We followed a good fifty feet behind him for almost an entire block.
He blew past the steps to the tunnel entrance, and I was about to tell Ciel that he might not be Albanian when he glanced over his shoulder, spotted us, and then immediately ducked into one of the multiple businesses lining the street.
“Let’s go,” I said as we sped up. I slipped my brass knuckles on and pulled out my pistol while Ciel unwrapped his garrote.
The business was an electronics store. I kicked the door open and entered while Ciel fanned out behind me to cover me.
Rows and rows of shelves filled with old electronics greeted us.
Stereos. TVs. Bulky computers. Ciel paused in front of a shelf filled with old parts and wires, and I smirked at how cute he was for getting distracted.
He caught me staring and rolled his eyes before catching up to me. Together we looked down each row, behind the bigger electronics, and behind the check-out counter along the wall of the store.
The man was nowhere to be found.
A dim light flickered from the ceiling, reflecting on the dirty linoleum floor. He couldn’t have just disappeared.
“Wynn,” Ciel murmured, jerking his head to a door slowly swinging on its hinges at the back of the store. I nodded as I carefully crept forward.
I was just using the barrel of my gun to open the door when the man jumped out from behind it, pointing his own gun at my face.
I swiped my arm at his weapon, pushing it upward and away from us before I punched him in the stomach.
He doubled over, wheezing, while the gun slipped from his grip.
I grabbed each side of his face and kneed him in the nose. He sprawled backward onto the ground.
“Wait, wait!” The man spluttered, holding his hands out in front of him. He scooted away, fear etched on every part of his face .
Behind him, the door swung slowly. Stairs led downward. I narrowed my eyes as I walked toward it.
“Watch him, Ciel,” I said as I stepped closer.
The door opened to reveal an entire staircase that led down to a metal grate fence.
The stairwell itself was tiled on all sides, big enough for about two bodies to go through it side by side.
My boots echoed hollowly as I descended until I reached the grate.
It was locked, but it went farther underground until the shadows consumed it.
The tunnel entrance.
This was how they were moving. Not through the main, sealed off entrance, but through this one.
If it was locked, the man above had to have the key. He came to this place for a reason.
I stomped back upstairs, and Ciel held his gun to the man’s face while I rifled through his clothes until I found it. It was all I needed to seal this man’s fate.
“What do you want?” he blubbered.
“Shut up,” Ciel said.
I walked back down to the grate at the entrance and inserted the key into the lock, just to confirm.
It popped open easily. I locked it back up and tucked the key away into my pocket.
They probably had more keys, but until the rest of us could get down here and figure out what to do with the entrance, I kept it.
“What do you want to do?” Ciel asked.
I stared down at the man. “Where were you going?”
He swallowed. “Shipment pickup. I’m supposed to be down there. They’ll know if I don’t come.”
I glanced at the stairwell, trying to decide if Ciel and I could go after those men ourselves.
“We can’t,” Ciel said softly. “Not the two of us alone. We’ll have to come back.”
Ciel was right. Despite how much I wanted to go storming through those tunnels and rescue the victims held captive there, it would be foolish to do it just the two of us. Frustration bubbled inside my chest.
The darkness behind my sternum writhed. These men had been operating under my nose, using hidden tunnels to walk around literally beneath our feet. I’d been on this street before. I’d busted a brothel not four blocks from here. The sex workers on the street even knew who I was.
Yet still, I didn’t see this happening. They’d taken their victims through those dark tunnels, and when they’d emerged again, they’d stuffed them into cars and carried them away to something even worse.
I knew exactly what I wanted to do to this man. He was right that the other Albanians would know he never showed up.
“Flip him onto his stomach,” I said as I pulled out my knife.
Ciel did what I asked without question. When he realized what I wanted to do—he knew I’d done it before—he nodded solemnly.
He held the man down as I cut his throat. He watched while I carved into his back, separating the muscles and bones from his spine. He didn’t flinch as I pulled his lungs through his back.
The blood seeped into the linoleum, staining it a dark, ugly red.
“Help me string him up,” I said when it was done. We found rope in the back of the store, and he tied it to each of the man’s wrists. Then we strung his body up in the front window of the electronics store.
The blood eagle.
The man’s corpse was a signal and a warning. We were watching. We were coming.
When we got back to the penthouse, covered in blood, I stopped Ciel before he could go to his room .
“Thank you,” I said softly. He could have tried to talk me out of what I’d just done. He could have acted with disgust or horror. But he didn’t. He helped me tonight. Without him, I probably would have rushed into that tunnel by myself, and who knew what would have happened?
“I’m glad I was with you,” he responded. His eyes flicked down to where my hands trembled by my sides. They’d been shaking ever since we got home.
I didn’t regret killing that man. I had no qualms about the violence itself. I had just been consumed with anger. At the Albanians for their horrific actions.
At myself.
“I’m sleeping in your room tonight.” His blue eyes were clear when his hand closed around mine and he pulled me inside.
I didn’t kick him out.
First, I showered. Then, he did.
When we both crawled into my bed, exhaustion overtook me. Our hands interlinked while we lay side by side. As I fell asleep, I couldn’t stop thinking that, despite Ciel’s and Leona’s assurances, I wasn’t a good man.
Maybe I should stop trying to be.