Marco
MARCO
B lood . It seeped into the concrete. Another dead man. Another dead end. The air was thick with the metallic tang, and screams bounced off the walls as our men worked tirelessly to torture information out of these lowlifes. We’d blown up the remaining warehouses, and yet Rosalind was nowhere to be found. I stood beside Hunter , my hands slick with the life-juice of yet another Black Hand scumbag, his pleas for mercy nothing but white noise.
" Fuckin ' talk," Hunter growled, his voice a low thunder that promised worse than pain if the piece of shit before us kept his mouth shut. He didn't need to raise his hand; the threat hung heavy in the air .
I watched, impassive, muscles coiled tight. Each scream, each plea etched, bouncing off me. This is why I was the best. This is why Hunter chose me.
" Please ," the man choked out between sobs, “ I have a daughter, a wife.”
“ We know.” Hunter’s smile made the man shut the fuck up and stare.
" Wrong answer," I muttered under my breath. Saw the shudder that rippled through his frame, the way his eyes widened a fraction more. They always broke eventually; it was just a matter of when.
Hunter nodded, and I turned. Phase two. I strode out into the dusk and grabbed the Jeep keys on the way out. He’d had been careless. Spoken to Rat too freely, let slip details about his family—a mistake he'd soon regret.
I found the house easily enough, tucked away in a sleepy neighborhood, its facade a mask of normalcy. Inside , unsuspecting, she waited for the key to unlocking her husband's stubborn silence. I hated this part, but he should be thankful we don’t hurt kids. That was part of our code.
I moved like a ghost, slipping through the back door without a sound. My heart beat slow and steady. She was there, in the kitchen, her back to me, humming some happy pop tune, stirring something .
A shadow fell over her, my towering form blocking out the light. Her body tensed, instincts screaming danger. Too fuckin' late.
" Sorry , doll," I whispered, though the apology was hollow—a token gesture in a game with no room for remorse.
Her scream pierced the silence as I clamped a hand over her mouth, the other wrapping around her waist, lifting her off the ground with ease. She fought like hell, nails clawing at my arm, legs kicking. Gotta give her credit for that.
" Quiet now," I rumbled against her ear. " Wouldn't want to make this worse than it has to be. I’ll kill the neighbors if you wake them."
I dragged her into the Jeep , her struggles waning as reality sank in. The wheels screeched as I pulled out, driving like a manic back to the mansion. I was almost giddy. We were going to finally find out where that fuck was keeping our woman.
Bound and gagged, she sat on a chair next to his hanging body. Her wide, tear-filled eyes met mine, silent pleas echoing in the void between us. For a moment, just a moment, a flicker of sympathy sparked within me. But it died just as quickly. Nothing and nobody mattered more than Rosie .
" Let's see if love's stronger than loyalty," Hunter mused, a twisted smirk on his lips.
An hour later, this greasy little asshole still hadn’t told us where they kept her. So , we were upping the stakes. The cold steel of the cuffs locked around her delicate wrists, my hands steady as a rock despite the tremors in hers. I yanked on the chain, securing her to the wall beside the sniveling piece of shit who called himself her husband. His eyes widened with fear, the stench of his dread filling the dank cell. Taking the gag off her mouth, she started to plead with him to just tell us what we wanted to know. Her tear-filled eyes met his bruised ones, and I smiled. He was close.
" Fuck ," Hunter spat, pacing like a caged beast, his shadow looming over the pair. " You shitting me right now? She's here, and you're still clamping your mouth shut?"
The man shook his head; lips mashed together in some misplaced notion of loyalty or maybe just pure stupidity. Could almost respect it if it wasn't so damn inconvenient.
" Got balls," I grunted, standing back to size him up. " Or maybe you're just dumb as fuck."
Hunter stood beside the quivering man, fist cocked back. The air thickened, heavy with anticipation and the promise of violence. I kept my eyes on the woman and watched the terror dance across her features, her body shivering.
" Last chance," Hunter growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The man's gaze flickered to his wife, then away, sealing his fate. Silence was his answer, and it echoed louder than any scream.
" Wrong move," I muttered under my breath, feeling the rage bubble inside Hunter , ready to burst. The guy didn't know jack shit about what we were capable of, what lines we'd crossed and never looked back.
But he'd learn soon enough. They always did.
Hunter's fist connected with the man's jaw, a sickening crack splitting the silence. Blood spurted, painting the grimy walls and landing in his wife’s face. Her sobs were music to my ears. The man's head snapped back, his body writhing against the constraints.
" Talk ," Hunter snarled. Another punch, knuckles sinking into flesh with a wet thud.
My gaze shifted to the wife, her eyes wide, frantic. Pleading . I felt that familiar itch, the need to bleed her husband out like a stuck pig. If only for putting her through this torment .
" Please ," she whispered, the only word she could muster. A tear trailed down her dirt-streaked face, carving a path through sweat and blood.
" ." Hunter's nod was all the command I needed.
I stepped forward, my shadow swallowing them both. The ring on her finger caught the light—and her husband's attention. My hand, a vise around her wrist, steady as stone.
" She’s gonna look pretty when I’m done with her," I said, my voice a dark rumble from deep within. " I think I’ll start with her hands. You like baking, right? Well , can’t do that with fucked up fingers."
The man's eyes shot open, wild, cornered. But his lips stayed sealed, defiance etched in every line of his battered face. Dumb bastard.
" Sorry , doll," I muttered, not because I meant it, but because sometimes you gotta say something when you're about to break a part of someone's world.
Her finger, delicate, fragile, was no match for my strength. I applied pressure, slow, inevitable. Her screams filled the cell as it bent further and further. She thrashed, futile, against the ropes binding her.
" Stop , stop!" the man howled, voice raw. But he wasn't talking yet, not what we needed to hear. So I squeezed harder till the snap echoed off the walls .
" Fuck !" His cry was a white flag, but still not enough.
I leaned in close, my breath hot on his ear, and I could taste the salt of his fear. " Where are they keeping her?"
His eyes flicked to his wife, her face twisted in agony, tears streaming down as she looked at her gnarly finger. His body heaved, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. The stink of his sweat mingled with the copper tang of blood, thickening the air of the cramped cell.
" Okay , okay!" he spat out, voice cracking like the bone in his wife's hand. " The boat moor... old fisher's hut... cellar underneath."
My grip on him slackened; it was all I needed. I stepped back and watched him sag against the wall, his wife sobbing beside him, their pain a sick melody playing just for me. For a moment, the image of Rosalind flashed before my eyes—her laughter, her warmth. We’re coming, sunshine.
I turned my back on the pair of them, their wails filling the space as I walked away. We can clean up later. I haven’t quite decided if I wanna let them go or bury them in the back.
" Let's move," I grunted to Hunter .
He nodded before gutting the fucker, leaving his wife screaming in agony. Guess he was saving the poison for someone a little more… special .
The darkness swallowed us as we moved through the corridors, up the stairs, and towards the war room. Hunter was already on the phone, barking orders, telling the men to suit up. Come hell of high water, we’d get her back.
There just wasn’t another option.