Chapter 25 #2
“W-w-what is this, Michael?” He falls back a few steps, his horrified expression darting toward all the men around us. “Shoot this traitor! He—he came after your daughter!”
But no one listens to a word he says. He’s not the boss anymore, and though he may have some still loyal to him, none of those men are here. I stretch out a palm toward another man, who hands me a gun.
And just on time, my guys come out of hiding and join in the fight. If you can call it that.
“What the fuck is happening?” Gio parts through the crowd and walks over to where Michael and I stand.
“I’ll explain everything in a moment,” Michael says, staring just as viciously at our father as I am.
“The only traitor I see, Father…” I lift the pistol and aim it straight at his chest. “…is you.”
He backs away, his inhales quick and shallow, and in a single move, all the weapons are now pointed at him. Any one of them would be willing to kill him if Michael asked.
I keep staring at the man who gave me life. At a man who, from the time I was little, hated me so much, he’d beat me for fun. He’d find any reason to hurt me. Then he found more ways to hurt me by fucking my wife. He needs to die. Right the hell now.
I rush forward, the muzzle of my nine pressing into my father’s forehead. “Are you ready to admit what you’ve done? How you tried to blame me for everything you’ve been doing?”
There’s an instant when fear skates past his gaze, taking hold of his features, and to know I’m the one who did that…it feels damn good. But just as quickly, it disappears, and out comes the monster. He laughs, really laughs, and the urge to torture him before he dies comes on strong.
“Is this a joke?” He pivots toward Michael, who aims his weapon at him too. “What the hell are you doing, son? After everything I’ve done for you?” His voice grows shrill. “After I gave you my rightful place? You turn on me?”
“You turned on this family,” Michael tells him. “You know what you’ve done. You know why you’ve been blaming Raph for everything you yourself have orchestrated.”
“Michael?” Gio’s face tightens, fitted with rage. “You’d better fucking tell me what the hell is going on before I lose it.”
Michael clasps him on the shoulder and tells him how sorry we’ve been for keeping this from him, but that we were afraid he’d fuck up the plan. He’s angry for a moment, but his anger is directed at my father, and it takes both me and Michael to keep him from murdering that son of a bitch.
Once he relaxes, once he’s calm enough to hear what our father has truly done, I tell him everything: the affair, what Nicolette overheard, what she saw, and how she went on the run to hide from our father.
Gio’s face goes ashen. Disbelief clouds his face, and my father tries hard to convince him we’re the liars, but Gio’s on our side.
Michael tells him that our father had even planned the hit on him just to blame me for it.
Just to get Michael to come after me. My father knew if Michael killed me himself, his problem would be solved.
And if Michael died first, he’d have all the reason to kill me without revealing his true motivation.
“Let’s get this over with,” I say, pressing the gun into my father’s chest.
His upper lip curls. “You may want to hold off on that, son. I’m not done telling you the best part yet.”
There’s nothing he can do or say to save his life.
“Oh yeah?” I force a dry snicker. “What’s that?”
“Well…” He drags in a slow breath, his eyes connecting with mine in a vile kind of way, like he’s got something under his sleeve. “If you kill me, you’ll never get her back.”
A feverish chill creeps up the back of my neck.
“Get who back?”
My drumming pulse drowns out the whispers in the room. I force down the nerves clawing inside my stomach. He can’t be talking about her.
“That pretty little Nicolette. You’ve been shacking up with her, haven’t you?” He groans. “Who could blame you. The set of tits on that girl.”
There’s no way. He’s just trying to mess with me.
It’s fucking working.
In a quick move, I’m on him, clutching his throat and squeezing hard. “You say one more thing about her and I’ll kill you. Slow. So fucking slow, you’ll wish for death.”
“She’ll…d-d-die t…too.” He strangles out the words.
“Nicolette is safe. You can’t touch her.” I drop my hand.
I won’t let him make me think he’s got her. She’s safe. She’s okay. I force some deep breaths into my lungs. I have to get back to her. I have to kill him and bring her home.
My father tries to say something, but coughs up blood instead.
“You…sure about that, son?” He looks smugly, attempting to steady his breathing.
The way he’s staring at me. The way his mouth twists…
Fuck.
I stumble backward, my gun hitting the floor.
“You’re fucking lying,” I tell him, but I can’t even convince myself that he is.
“Am I? Why don’t you call her and see if she answers?”
My heart pounds, my eyes filled with disdain as I level him with a stare and reach into my pocket for my burner.
Even before I start to dial, I know in my heart that she’s gone. That he took her. That no matter how hard I tried to protect her, I failed. How the hell could I have thought she could be safe with me? That we could be right for each other?
The phone rings.
And rings.
And rings.
“Fuuuuck!” I toss the cell and hear it crack. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
My fist lands on the mirror, blood seeping from my knuckles. But I don’t even feel any pain. My chest, it’s the only damn thing that hurts.
I have to find her. I rush toward him and grab his shirt.
“Tell me where she is. Now!”
“Gotta let me go first.” Ridicule flanks his features.
And when he laughs this time, I don’t quite hear it, other than his screams as I release every pent-up shred of rage he put inside me.