Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ACE
We stood back, watching and waiting for the signal to make all hell rain down on our enemy. To take from him the things he loved most, just like he had done to me when he murdered my sister. It had been a long time coming, and the wait was so excruciatingly hard, but I was thankful we were finally retaliating, finally getting the closure we deserved after so many years.
It was slow coming, but it was here. We'd kill his brother. And soon, we'd take his life too.
"Are you sure Bellamy is protected?" I asked Mercer for what had to be the hundredth time tonight as we sat waiting, watching Accardo's brother through the window of his home.
"Yes." He closed his eyes like he hoped the information provided was correct. "Drew is with her. Plus, we've doubled down on the perimeter security for the night, two guards at every door and entry point in our house."
"Is it enough?" Logically, I knew it was overkill. But my mind was never logical when it came to her.
"It will have to be." He looked down at his phone. "Four minutes. Ready to go?"
Four minutes and destruction would hit Accardo on every single point of his life. This had the potential to make the man go insane. Only I doubted he'd discover his brother's death tonight. If anything, it could be weeks. Belle was safe. At least for tonight. She was safe. I couldn't remind myself of that fact enough.
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, picturing the glorious moment when Belle rode my body, rising and falling as her chest heaved and her breasts swayed so damn temptingly I couldn't help but touch them. We were doing this for her as much as we were doing this for ourselves. Accardo may have been harder to touch than her father, but we were getting there. Inch by inch, we'd move to take him out.
"I'm ready."
He nodded once, before he parted ways with me. The plan was to hit different entry points, close in on his brother from two different angles. We expected little trouble. The man looked old, frail... nothing like the crime boss he shared DNA with. Still, we knew not to underestimate him. We had backup, waiting, watching, ready to come to our rescue and help us out if things turned south.
I fucking hoped it didn't happen.
I slunk toward the back door, keeping to the shadows and clinging to the wall of the building, hoping he wasn't the type to have nosey neighbors to tattle on us. We were fast, and I knew we could get in there and get the job done, but I hoped we didn't have to get it done under the pressure of the police.
I glanced at my watch. Three minutes.
The weathered boards of the steps looked ready to crumble, and I kept my steps to the edge, knowing that with the support, it was less likely to creak, less likely to alert that we were outside, ready to end his life. I wondered what it would be like, dying. What would my last thought be before I took my final breath?
Two minutes.
I reached the top of the steps and stretched my side over a pair of broken terracotta pots with plants that had long since died. My fingers grazed gently over the metal knob, the gloves preventing me from feeling the cool metal against my skin. A twist, resistance. I hadn't expected the door to be unlocked, though how much easier it would be if it had been?
I slid my tools between the door frame and the door, not shocked when the lock instantly gave. The house was old. The lock looked like it hadn't been changed in my lifetime. That small victory was one tick in our favor. I winced as I pushed the door open, hoping the tiniest of hinge squeaks didn't give us away over the blaring volume of the television.
One minute.
My steps were gentle, quiet against the sticky tile floor. Inside, dust coated every surface, making the air nearly impossible to breathe without coughing. I held my breath as much as I could, trying not to give myself away. Touch nothing was always a rule, but in a place like this, where a single swipe of dust would be noticeable, I kept my limbs tucked close to my body, not willing to brush up against anything that could leave my mark.
"I've been expecting you." The voice was scratchy with age. I froze mid-step, straining my ears to listen to Rocco Accardo. "It was only a matter of time before my brother's dealings showed up to pay me a visit."
"Then you know we didn't want to take it this far."
Mercer.
I swallowed hard as I crept forward toward my best friend's voice.
"I can't go easily, boy. You must understand that. I'm old, but I've enjoyed this life too well to just give up now."
Click.
My stomach sank at the distinctive echo of a revolver being set. This was supposed to be easy. Get in, take a life, leave. But as I stepped closer, I knew for a fact that wasn't the case. Not while the old man's shaky hand held a gun pointed right at Mercer.
My heart raced; my blood rushed to my ears, making it hard to hear the conversation they were having. I strained, trying to listen to the mumbled words. I needed to get closer, needed to get to the old man before he harmed something, someone, of importance to me.
"Who is going to put their weapons down first?" Mercer asked the man.
"You think I'm stupid enough to fall for that shit, son?" This guy had to be a smoker. It was the only explanation for the roughness of his voice. "I've been alive a long fucking time, longer than you were a seed in your father's ball sack. I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of death. It will come for me, eventually. Might as well take something with me along the way."
I just hoped that something he took with him wasn't my best friend.
I took another step, then two more before Mercer talked. "Your brother, he took something important to me."
"It's the life," Rocco pondered.
"She was family. My best friend's wife. And their child," Mercer offered, even though the man didn't ask.
"Women and children. I guess in my brother's old age, even he forgets the rules." Rocco laughed. "Stupid bastard."
Mercer swallowed, trying not to look at me. "But I took something of his, too."
Keep talking, Mercer. Keep fucking talking.
Another step, each one bringing me closer to sneaking up on this old bastard. I wasn't prepared for this turmoil that would roll through me, seeing Mercer in danger. Yet, as he stood there talking, he hardly looked phased at his near death. His hands were steady, his breathing normal. His grip was loose on the gun he held.
The man leaned forward. "You the bastard who took my nephew?"
"Nope." Mercer smirked.
"What do you have?"
"Something better than your nephew," Mercer confirmed.
"He was a good kid."
If it was me, I'd let him believe that lie he'd been fed. But Mercer, he didn't care to spare the old man his feelings in his last minutes of life. Instead, he shook his head. "He wasn't."
"His father, he had influenced him is all, he'd forced?—"
"His father didn't force him to rape my girl," Mercer cut him off.
"Rape?" I only saw the back of Rocco's head, but I knew his brows were pulled together in confusion. "My nephew would never do such a thing."
Mercer laughed, the coldness driving into my bones. "He would, and he did. And now... I've got your brother's granddaughter."
"A girl," Rocco whispered. "Joseph always wanted a girl."
"He'll never touch her," Mercer said with conviction. "In fact, he'll never know."
I was so fucking close I could smell the rancid aroma of body odor and chain smoking that wafted off Rocco in waves. I reached into my coat pocket, moving so slowly it was nearly painful, until my fingers wrapped around the thick hilt of my blade. I pulled it out, unsheathing it, before holding it out in front of me.
"I'll tell him," Rocco vowed.
"You'd have to live that long, and I don't foresee that happening." Mercer's face was stone, not giving away the fact that I stood behind him, ready to take his life.
"You've forgotten that I have a gun, too." Rocco snorted. "And I've spent more years on this earth perfecting my aim."
"You think I'd go out on a job and not have perfect aim?" Mercer's brow rose. "Sir, I respect your confidence, but you could never take me out."
God damn him for goading a man with a gun. Couldn't he let his pride go for one fucking second?
Rocco laughed. "Something you may have never known, son, is that it was me. I started this organization, and when I grew tired, I handed it over to my brother. He's twenty years younger than I am, still has a drive for this life."
Mercer didn't let on that this massive chunk of an informative bomb was dropped in our laps. How had we not known? Did Adam know? They had covered up this secret well. Hell, we were barely teens when the organization switched hands.
"How do you feel about the way your brother has run what you built into the ground?"
"It's not over, you know." The man waved his gun a little. "Sometimes it looks down, but that's only to strengthen the foundation."
"I'm pretty sure by the time we're done, there will be no foundation to strengthen. We will kill him. You could kill me now, but that won't stop it." Mercer's eyes narrowed on his gun, which was becoming progressively more shaky. "We'll own everything that was his. Take what we want and disregard the rest like trash. Or would it be your empire, what you built, that goes to waste?"
"I've grown tired, son." Rocco sighed. "I guess, since you refused to put down your weapon, and I'm not abandoning mine, that we've reached a stalemate. You think your aim is better than mine. I doubt it. But for the sake of your pride and mine, count of three. Winner takes all."
"I've got nothing to take from you." Mercer smiled. "Besides your life."
"Funny, because I've got everything to take from you. The girl, the child, the empire you've worked to build." Rocco laughed. "I wonder what your friends would think when they find you dead. How vengeful would they be?" He sighed. "I guess we'll find out. One."
Fuck me. He was serious?
"Two."
The thing about men like us is we have no honor system. There is trust when it comes to us, just not outside of our family. So when the number two left his mouth, followed by the sound of his gun firing, I didn't hesitate. I reached forward, gripping his thin greasy strands of hair, and yanked his head back before slicing my blade deep through the paper-thin skin of his throat. Warmth poured over my fingers as his blood spurted out. I let go, his body instantly slumping, and when I looked up, my heart nearly stopped when Mercer staggered backwards into a wall, leaving a trail of blood behind.