Chapter Thirty-One
Collin
My fist slammed into Xander’s face for the fifteenth time. He stopped begging for mercy twenty minutes ago.
“Boss.”
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, Xander’s blood be damned.
My feet moved back away from the beaten man on the ground as my chest rose and fell with my harsh breaths.
The plane hangar had been silent for the last hour, aside from Xander’s grunts of pain, while I beat the man who failed me. Who failed Karina. .
“I gave you a second chance at life, Xander,” I said casually as I turned to the table full of weapons. He coughed and gasped for air behind me.
“Sir,” he croaked.
“Go bore someone else with your begging,” I sighed as I grabbed the hammer. I would make it quick but not painless. My feet stopped moving once I stood over him, his bruised and battered face looking up at me, his eyes pleading for mercy.
Mercy wasn’t in my vocabulary.
I yanked the man up by his hair, raising the hammer with my opposite fist. His whole body shook from the shock of his injuries, his blood splattered all over the clean concrete floor. My face lowered to his, my jaw tight as I snarled down at him.
“She is gone because of you,” I hissed. He wasn’t fighting me.
His hands remained at his sides as his body sagged.
It was undecided if he had just given up, or if he had accepted his fate.
The men knew the costs. If Karina was harmed on their watch, death would be waiting for them, and I would be the one to deliver it.
“I know that sir,” he managed to get out, his throat bobbing.
I was an hour into my flight to New York when my angel called me. The second she told me Xander left the plane, I knew something was wrong. The last thing I heard Kay say to me was a name.
His name.
The name of the man who wouldn’t fucking die.
Romano.
My plane turned around, and when I found Xander passed out on the runway, I lost it.
Karina was gone.
My angel.
My baby.
My everything.
The ache that had been residing in my chest for the last few months was full blown pain. Heartbreaking, gut-wrenching pain. My skin was clammy, and sweat glistened across my forehead. My body was panicking, something I hadn’t felt since I was a small child.
“You failed me, Xander.”
His swollen eyes darted to the hammer and then back to me. “Do it, boss.”
Col, don’t…
My arms halted mid-swing. One. Centimeter. From. His Face. Karina’s voice echoed in my ear like the sweetest whisper. She was the angel on my shoulder, and she was telling me to stop—to show mercy.
“Just do it,” Xander said softly.
Don’t hurt him, Col. You are better than this. He trusts you.
God. Fucking. Damn.
Even in her absence, she controlled me.
With a low growl in my throat, I shoved him away. He fell back onto the ground with a grunt as I straightened my spine. The man looked up at me in question, but I turned my back on him, walking to the front of the building.
Here I was, back, in this God forsaken city to retrieve what belonged to me. Last time she was my prisoner and now, she was my enemy's.
Funny how things came full circle.
I shot a look at Deacon, who I'd given a second chance at life. He nodded once and pulled out his phone. Xander needed medical attention, but for now, he would go back to the island—to my basement of fun until I had a clear idea on what to do with him.
Kicking the front door of the hanger open and scaring the staff, I stepped into the late afternoon sun.
After lighting a cigarette, the first one I'd in days, my back fell against the building.
My body was still healing from the explosion earlier this week.
This shit was supposed to be over, and things were supposed to be… dare I say normal?
A cruel smile found my lips. “Demons don’t get normal, Collin,” I murmured, tucking the lighter back into my pocket.
I sucked in a long inhale, the smoke stinging my insides as its toxins oozed into my bloodstream. If a bullet didn’t kill me, I found comfort in the fact that these cancer sticks would one day.
On exhaling, the smoke drifted through my nose, and I pulled out my phone.
After allowing myself only one second to look at the devastatingly beautiful woman wrapped in my bed on my lock screen—a photo I took just this morning when things were lighter—I pulled up the one number I thought I would never have to call again.
A private number.
Used for emergencies only.
Time to phone dear old dad.
“Ah. My bastard returns to me,” he drawled, ending on a cough after picking up on the first ring.
Ray Romano never picked up on the first ring. I smirked.
“You have something of mine, Romano. I would like it back.”
“I missed the days when you feared me, boy.”
I chuckled on another exhale of smoke and shook my head. “Your first mistake was thinking I ever feared you. Your second mistake was taking something that's mine.”
Silence and then. “Why now? After all these years, why betray me now? When I was about to give you everything you could have ever wanted, boy?”
“I'm going to enjoy pulling you apart, sir,” I sneered. He didn’t deserve an explanation, even if I wanted to fucking give him one. This wasn’t a fucking therapy session.
“How about I just kill her right now, you little shit?” he growled. He coughed again. Hard to play the bad guy when you sounded like that. This shit was hilarious.
“I’ll burn your empire, just like I burned your island.” The words were out before I could process them. Everything I had been working for—the takeover, the mafia—nothing would matter if she was dead, and I would light the match to burn it all the second her soul left this world.
My father, the devil, the man who raped my mother, beat me, and lied to me…hesitated. “You wouldn’t dare, son. That is your legacy.”
My legacy was a five-foot eight-inch tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel with a heart of fucking gold.
“Try me, old man,” I drawled. “I’ll go buy the matches right now.”
He sighed. “The girl is just a girl. You can have anyone you want. But this one is the key to St. Louis.”
Like hell she was.
I’d burn the fucking city down in search of her. No one would be able to stop me from getting to her, not even her own family. Truces be damned. Flicking the cigarette onto the ground, I stepped on the bud.
My patience was non-existent.
I scanned the grounds of the tiny airport. I know for a fact this was the same one that the FBI used. When I scheduled the flight, a part of me hoped they would be here when Karina landed. She would have been in safe hands…hands that wanted to see me arrested and rotting in a federal prison.
But safe for her.
Tires screeching in the distance had my head snapping to the right. A black Tahoe flew across the parking lot heading straight for me. Deacon emerged by my side within the next second.
“Boss. It’s the Feds. We gotta move.”
He was looking at me, but my eyes were on the vehicle. I held a finger up to him and decided that my family therapy session had to come to an end. “Father, as much as I have enjoyed this conversation, it must end. Like your life in the next twelve hours.”
“Son—”
“One. Fucking. Hair. If one hair on her head is out of place, the empire will fall,” I growled. It was the only thing he had left to lose. Kidnapping Karina was an act of desperation, and her being the key to St. Louis, well, that could only mean one thing.
Sullivan Jones.
He was using the man’s niece as leverage to take control of St. Louis.
That explosion fucked him up at the very least. He sounded weak—weaker than before, more disoriented.
I pocketed the phone and pushed off the wall as the Tahoe came to a stop.
Deacon flanked me, his gun aimed at the mystery driver.
My jet engines roared on the other side of the building.
“Xander secure?” I asked, pulling out my gun. Damn, I wanted another cigarette.
“Yes, boss.”
“And why aren’t you with them?” I met his eyes briefly, and they were filled with loyalty.
“Didn’t want to leave you alone, sir.”
Though I admired the loyalty… “I don’t do the lovey dovey shit.”
He didn’t have time to respond before the driver’s side door opened. I left my gun resting at my side, knowing I was faster than the average trained agent. Petite hands flew up as the owner of them stepped out of the vehicle and into view.
“Don’t shoot!”
Dark hair, ponytail, glasses too big for her face, Black Sabbath t-shirt, gray leggings.
Someone tell me why I was looking at the world’s best hacker, Casey Gomez?
“Who the fuck is this?” my man asked quietly beside me.
Her light-colored eyes bounced back and forth between the both of us. “Please don’t shoot me. I’ll get fired for sure if you do,” she said, keeping her hands in the air.
I looked behind her, waiting for an ambush.
“It’s just me. I swear on my abuela’s secret churro recipe,” she said, taking a step forward.
“Ms. Gomez, I am a very busy man. I don’t have time for this bullshit,” I deadpanned.
She nodded. “I know. I know, but this is about—wait. How do you know my name?”
I gestured to myself. “Bad guy, remember?”
“Just because you look like the bad guy doesn’t mean you are one.”
“Right, and how many warrants do I have?”
“Five hundred and forty-eight, including two in Canada.”
“Glad you're getting with the program. Now kindly, fuck off, agent,” I said as I began to turn around.
“I know where Kay is going to be.”
There would be no fucking off for her today.
I was on her in the next ten seconds. Her back was against the car, and my gun was pressed into her gut. Not that I would shoot her there. Killing women wasn’t on my list of favorite hobbies, but when I did, it was kill shot. Directly between the eyes. Over in an instant. Painless.
She cursed something in Spanish under her breath as she stared up at me. I knew the language enough to get me by.
“Insulting yourself won’t get you out of this,” I deadpanned.
“Are you going to kill me?” Her voice was strong. Bold. Good for her.
“Piss me off, and I just might, agent.”
“How do I not piss you off?” she asked sweetly as I glared down at her.
“Karina is going to be at Busch Stadium tonight. Ray Romano is—”
“Yes, I know about him. The fucker won’t stay dead,” I growled, removing the gun from her body and signaling Don.
Time to go swing some fucking bats.
The tech girl gave me a look of confusion. “Dead? He's supposed to be dead?”
I ran a palm down my face. I didn’t have time for this. Karina needed me. “Have a good day,” I sighed, pulling her away from the vehicle.
“So, you know about the trade?”
I turned to face her. “What did you just say?” The tone in my voice caused her caramel skin to pale. Now she was afraid of me. Good. I took a step to her, and she took one back. “Agent, you and I both know I'll catch you. Let’s not waste precious time.”
That stilled her. The woman tilted her chin up to me. “He wants Gwen. Sullie is supposed to trade Gwen for Kay.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as my stomach curled. My eyes looked anywhere but hers. “Connors know?”
“There is a plan set in place,” she confirmed once I looked back at her. Deacon was now leaning against the hood of the piece of government property like he owned it, his eyes on her.
“If there's a plan in place, then why come to me?” I shouldn’t care about this, but there was a tug in my chest that wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone.
She sighed and looked at her Converse. They were lime green. Fucking Christ. “Because things don’t always go according to plan.”
“How did you find us?”
I was surprised when Deacon spoke, but I couldn’t fault him for it. Perhaps he was searching for a way to cover up a mistake he assumed he made. He didn’t know that this was an airport used by the Bureau. Therefore, it wasn’t his problem.
The girl snorted and pointed to the cameras. “Give me more credit than that, asshole.”
The time to raise a brow and provide her with a snarky remark was nonexistent. “Good day, agent,” I said swiftly as I got into the Tahoe. Once Deacon was in the passenger seat, I floored the gas, leaving the tech girl in the parking lot.
My hand rested on top of the steering wheel, my gun in the other as I looked to my loyal employee. “Things are about to get bloody. You ready?”
His answer was pulling out his second gun and loading the chamber.
I’ll take that as a yes.