Chapter 20 #2
“John!” Marco yells in a faux-joyous tone and throws his hands out in front of him. His stance screams excitement, but his face crinkles in fear. He clearly has an accent, and while it’s not Russian like I’ve heard before, I can’t quite make it out. “How good to see you, my old friend!”
“Do you run from all of your friends, or just John?” Zeke asks tauntingly as he starts to circle the man in slow steps. He smirks at Marco like he’s watching a comedic episode, and not like this guy is potentially dangerous.
“Oh! You thought I was running from you? No, no, no. I am training for a marathon next month. Yes! You know, it takes lots of work. So much work.” Marco swats his hand in the air, trying to play it off, and it might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.
John just tilts his head and pulls a knife out of his pocket.
“Whoa! Alright, alright. I see that you’re not in the mood for jokes.
What can I do to keep you from using that on my face? ”
“You can tell me what you know about DeLuca and Saconne. I’m not in the mood for lies, so you better not waste my time.” John steps forward, and Marco takes a step back, only to bump into Zeke. They crowd him like a couple of hungry lions, and Marco’s face pales.
“I swear, I don’t know anything about them anymore.
I’m done with that chapter of my life,” Marco pleads.
Zeke grips him by the shoulders and leads him over to a small pullout table, and forcefully shoves him into the nearby chair, making him yelp.
“John. Please. I don’t want any trouble.
” He holds his hands up, continuing to beg, but Zeke then holds one of his arms down on the wooden surface.
“My son is missing, and you don’t want trouble?
” John then raises the knife and slams it down onto Marco’s palm.
I grimace. That sight mixed with the smells might actually make me sick.
He screams and whimpers as he watches the blood start to pour from his hand, but surprisingly, he doesn’t try to pull it away—like he’s gone through this before.
“I said, tell me what you know about them!” John screams in his face, and Zeke pulls his own knife out before sliding the blade between Marco’s lips.
“Maybe your mouth isn’t big enough to tell the truth.”
“Okay, okay! Just hold on a second!” Marco mumbles around the knife, and Zeke slowly drags the blade back out.
It causes a tiny cut just in the corner, and a couple drops of blood drip onto his chin as he pulls it away.
John grabs the top of his head and grips his hair strands so tightly that he shakes.
“I truly wasn’t selling anymore. I swear it.
That life forced me out long ago—until last month. ”
“What happened then?” I ask and step up, finally deciding to ask some questions myself. Marco jerks his gaze to me, and John releases his grip on the knife. It remains lodged in his hand and keeps him in place, though.
“I got a call from a man demanding to place an order with me, but I refused. I told him the same thing I’m telling you now, that I was out of commission and couldn’t help him.
The next night, someone broke into the apartment I had at the time.
It was one of them; I knew it. He didn’t say anything, but he made it clear that I had messed up somehow.
I was beaten so badly that I didn’t wake up until the next morning, and even then, I could barely speak or see.
When I awoke, there was only a card with a number and a message that said ‘place the order.’”
“What did this man look like?”
“He had the tattoo, if that’s what you want to know. It was on his neck, just like the old ones used to have. He seemed older, though. About our age,” Marco tells John. “He might even be one of the numbers.”
“The numbers?” I ask John, but he’s so enraptured by what Marco is saying that he doesn’t hear me.
“What happened when you got everything they needed?”
“I tried to call and tell them that I had it ready for them, but there was no answer. The anticipation almost killed me while I waited all day and night, then the day after that, I was ambushed. They shot me up with something that put me to sleep, and when I awoke again, it was all gone. I swear it, John. That’s all that happened. I didn’t even get paid for it.”
Zeke looks up at John, and we both notice the flush on his face. It’s clear that John believes him, but this doesn’t help us at all. Unless John is willing to share more with us about his past with the Italians, we won’t find any useful information from Marco.
“What number did you dial?”
“The card is in the top drawer of the dresser,” Marco directs.
I turn and walk with Daisy into the bedroom, then search for the card.
It’s easy enough to find, and thank God for that, because this room smells even worse than the previous one.
He did say he had an apartment a month ago, and while there’s a possibility all of this is his, I’m hoping he’s just hiding out here.
As I walk back out to join them, I pull out my phone.
“Should I call it?” I ask them.
“If they answer, Carter can track the location. So, I say go for it.” Zeke shrugs, and I immediately dial the number. All of the hope that started to build in my chest plummets when it doesn’t even ring. It only beeps three times before saying, “The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”
I shake my head at John, silently telling him that it’s no good.
We probably should’ve expected this to be harder than finding a lead so soon, but I couldn’t help but get excited.
I just want Damien back home with me, where he belongs.
John obviously feels the same disappointment as well, because he just starts to pace the floor.
“What else do you know?” Zeke asks Marco.
“Nothing, I swear. I haven’t heard from them since.”
I walk up to Marco, and even though Zeke gives me a warning glare, I ignore it.
“If they contact you for anything else, you better let us know,” I threaten him.
“Look, lady. I take demands from no one. Not even someone as pretty as—”
I grip the knife handle in my hand and pull back, forcing the blade to split his skin even further. He screams and yells, but Zeke holds him down so he doesn’t have a chance to lash out at me.
“I’m not sure I made myself as clear as I needed to.
” I look around the room and spot a hammer on the opposite side, laying by what looks like a half-assembled crate.
The thoughts running through my head almost make me sick, but I steel my spine and move to pick it up.
“They have my husband, who also happens to be John’s son.
” I grab the handle in my hand before turning and walking back.
“And when I say we’ll do anything to get him back, I mean it.
” I swallow harshly and raise the hammer, then bring it down forcefully—crushing Marco’s fingertips.
He screams once again. The noise rings out through the room, but I stand tall.
There’s a good chance that this won’t get us anywhere.
Hell, there’s still a chance that someone else has Damien, but I trust John.
If he’s so sure that they have him, then I’m going to take his word for it.
Marco may not be of any use to us right now, but there’s always a chance they’ll contact him again, and then we’ll be ready.
Damien would do anything to get back to us. I know he’s putting up a good fight. Even if he isn’t able to escape whatever situation he’s in, they might need more to contain him. I lean down and put my face within his sight.
“So, again. If they contact you for anything else, what are you going to do?” I ask indifferently.
“Let you know! I’ll let you know!” he cries out. I stand back up as my phone chimes with a text, and I look down at it to read the message from Carter.
Got another possible lead. When are you guys heading back?
Hope tries to bloom in my chest, but I don’t allow it to this time. Until I know exactly what kind of ‘lead’ this is, I’m not going to count on it.
We’re heading back now.
After I text him back, I look up to John, who’s now looking at the wall like it’s speaking to him. His eyes are locked on the dirty plaster, and I’m partially afraid he’s going to try and barrel through it.
“Can we go home now?” I ask him softly, knowing that will affect him more than my angry tone.
It takes him a moment to process my words.
I almost think he didn’t hear me, but eventually, he seems to snap back to reality.
He looks over at me and nods before stomping over to Marco and removing the knife from his hand.
“Let’s get you home,” John says, and walks over to me before gesturing towards the door.
I nudge my head, telling Zeke that it’s time to go.
It almost makes me laugh with the way he rolls his eyes, but I keep it to myself.
He steps out from behind Marco and writes something on the same card as the old number.
“Just in case there was any confusion.” Zeke flicks the card in Marco’s face, then he turns around to walk out with us.