CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
J ULIAN
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L IGHTNING FLASHED THROUGH my bedroom window, followed a second later by a clap of thunder. A storm was coming. But my mind wasn’t on the weather. It was on the Clark family. Both Aaron Clark Senior and Junior were locked up, awaiting trial.
The evidence against them was substantial. Two women came forward, stating that Junior had assaulted them. One was left in critical condition for weeks, as confirmed by hospital records.
Neither woman filed a complaint because Senior paid them off and threatened their families. Aiden had provided the security footage from his hotel to the police, proving that both the older and younger Clark had been at his hotel the last night the maid worked.
Cameras near the employee entrance showed a young woman clocking out the next morning, using the maid’s credentials. That young woman was the girlfriend of the front desk clerk who’d worked with the maid that night.
Both he and his girlfriend were now in jail. The maid’s family came forward and said they’d wanted to contact the police and file a missing person’s report, but Aaron Senior sent someone to silence them.
When the maid’s sister tried to contact the police in secret, she was killed too. The evidence was irrefutable. Even with the best lawyer money could buy on their side, those two weren’t beating this.
I was surprised by how nicely that had wrapped up. Neither Senior nor Junior was a threat to me or my family now. However, it was Scott Pollard who was keeping me from going to Stefanie.
That bitch was still lying low, and so far, I hadn’t been able to pin him down at any of the addresses associated with him. Both Aiden and I had PIs searching for him. Yet he kept slipping through our fingers.
There would be no taking over the company for him. The board had already sent someone to handle the business. Scott knew he’d lost his chance of getting money out of the Clark family.
He damn sure couldn’t extort it from the Cattaneos or Aiden Park and his family. So, now he was on the run from me and his debt collectors. I needed to find him before they did. If they found him first, I’d have no way to confirm his death if they got rid of the body properly.
I’d forever wonder if he was alive or dead. I’d forever be looking over my shoulder and worrying about Stefanie, her daughter, and my family. That was not a life I wanted to lead. Therefore, I was determined to be the one who killed him.
That’s why I was seated on the edge of my bed, dressed in all black with a duffle bag at my feet, awaiting the text from Rashad. He’d placed a tracker on Scott’s newest stolen car a couple of hours ago.
It had to be one of those cheap ones because he’d lost the ability to track Scott for a while due to the weather. But the last hit he’d gotten had been near Cattaneo Casino and Resorts. If it turns out he was there, that would be perfect.
I could ask one of my cousins to snatch him up and hold him until I arrived. But I had to be certain before I made that call. For now, I waited. Impatiently. My phone dinged. I checked it quickly, hoping it was a text from Rashad.
It was something better. I smiled at the notification telling me that Stefanie had posted to social media. I clicked on her profile. It was a picture of her sipping from a cup of coffee with a blueberry muffin on a napkin in front of her.
The caption read: It’s a First Weather Alert Day. I’ll be with you all morning, tracking the storms and helping you stay alert. What keeps me alert? Coffee and muffins. I really needed this. Thank you!
Thank you? Did she really say thank you? To me? On her social media? I couldn’t stop smiling. The post already had likes and comments. I clicked to read through them. Some people were saying things like:
That’s so sweet!
A real man makes sure his woman has hot coffee each morning!
Coffee and muffins... Yum!
You have a boyfriend? I want to see pics.
Lucky you! All my man gave me this morning was a headache.
Then there was one that read: Focus on the weather, please.
My frown faded as I clicked on that person’s profile. Andrew Richards from Gulfport, MS.
“You must want to fucking die, Andrew Richards,” I mumbled as I stared down at his photo.
My phone dinged again. This had to be a text from Rashad. It had to be. I needed to know where Scott was. I’d burned down all of his usual hideouts, prompting the city to be on the lookout for an arsonist.
I had to be careful this time. I wouldn’t burn this house down. I exited the app and checked my text. Finally, a message from Rashad. I got a hit on Scott Pollard. I snatched up my duffle bag. It was time to go.
The GPS said it would take me forty minutes to get to him. By the time I was backing out of my driveway, the rain had started. Ten minutes into the drive, it was pouring down, making it hard to see on the highway.
I reached for my phone, pulled up the local weather app, and hit play to listen to their live coverage. Her voice filled the car, cutting through the chaos outside. Just hearing her speak settled something in me.
I’d been riled up, ready to get this over with. Rushing to bring death to Scott Pollard. But her voice calmed me. I took a deep breath and released it slowly as I listened to her. Yeah, I was still rushing to get this shit done.
But the energy in me had calmed. Her voice quieted the chaos in my head, the doubt, the worry, the... fear . Cattaneos weren’t supposed to be afraid. But I’d been scared. Afraid for weeks now.
I didn’t fear death or danger. Death would come for everyone. There was no escaping it. And danger was a Cattaneo's middle name. We were born into it. Many of us died because of it. That wasn’t what I feared.
I feared losing those I loved. I feared he’d send someone after them. I was afraid that the guards I put on them wouldn’t be enough. I was mad as hell because I couldn’t personally protect them all myself.
That fear could make me reckless. Hearing Stefanie’s voice, hearing who I fought for, stilled that fear and replaced it with something else. Hope . There was no more doubt in me. I was confident that I would get this done tonight.
I wouldn’t fuck this up. Her voice drifted through the air, wrapping around me, accompanying me as I drove. She was tracking the storm, laying out the path, and according to her, it wasn’t headed in my direction. Not yet, anyway.
Though I wasn’t in the path of the current storm, I left the stream playing. I needed to hear her for a while longer. The rain lightened to a drizzle as I neared the location. But it would pick up again, according to my favorite meteorologist.
Following the GPS’s instructions, I turned onto a back road. I followed it for a mile. Staring out into the darkness, I saw nothing but trees and more trees. I thought I’d be driving to some run-down house.
That wasn’t the case. The GPS led me to a dense forest area. It was right up ahead. I would have to park and travel the rest of the way on foot. In the fucking storm. Sighing, I pulled over and killed the lights.
I stared over at my duffle. I’d thought it would be a house and that I would be able to tie Scott’s ass up and take a little pleasure in finishing this. He didn’t deserve a fast kill. He’d kept me from someone I wanted for a while now.
He deserved to feel every second we’d been apart. But my current situation prevented that. I stared around outside. The rain was coming down a little harder now, and according to Stefanie, there was now a severe thunderstorm warning for our area. I wouldn’t be able to take my time with Scott. I had to make this quick.
“If you have to be on the roads right now, be careful,” Stefanie’s voice filled the car.
It was strange, but I felt those words were meant for me.
I stared down at the app and whispered, “I’ll be safe, sweet Stefanie.”
I exited the weather app because I couldn’t have any noise alerting Scott to my presence. I unzipped my bag and retrieved the weapons I needed. I shoved two guns into my holsters and two small knives into the side slot of my boots.
I stared down at the zip ties, duct tape, large scalpel, and my small handheld saw. I wouldn’t be using any of those tonight. I zipped the bag up and tossed it onto the back seat. Gloves on, ski mask in place, I climbed out of the car.
Shutting the door behind me, I stared down at my phone. Droplets gathered on the device. I wiped my hand over the waterproof case to stare at the red dot representing the location of Scott’s car.
The forest was silent, except for the distant rumble of thunder. I strode deep into the forest, continuously glancing down at the red dot pulsing on my phone's screen to make sure I was heading in the right direction.
The rain had intensified, turning the ground into a slick mess. I welcomed the storm. It covered up any sounds I made. And the thunder would cover up the sound of Scott screaming and begging for his life.
The rain soaked through my clothes, branches clawed at my arms, and the scent of damp earth filled my nostrils. According to the red dot, Scott’s car should be right ahead. I paused, crouching behind a thick tree trunk, eyes scanning the clearing ahead.
There it was, Scott's car, parked haphazardly among the trees. But where was he? I remained still, scanning the area, looking for any sign of movement, any pop of color that didn’t belong here in the forest.
I saw nothing and heard nothing but the patter of rain. I started to move closer to the vehicle. A twig snapped to my left. I turned sharply, catching a glimpse of movement. Before I could react, a heavy force slammed into my side, knocking the wind out of me.
I hit the ground hard, slamming my head against a rock, the taste of blood filling my mouth. I stared up at a large, bulky figure with his foot raised, his boot aiming for my ribs. Unless Scott had grown to the size of a sumo wrestler, that wasn’t Scott Pollard!
I rolled over just in time to avoid having my chest stomped. I wince, a sharp rock digging into my abdomen. Ignoring the pain, I pushed myself to my feet. The man rushed my way. I met him head-on, swinging at his face.
My fist connected with his jaw. It was like punching a concrete wall. My fingers felt like jelly. And fuck! They hurt. He aimed a fist at my face. I dodged left. He missed. I couldn’t dodge the next blow.
A punch to the chest sent me stumbling back, nearly slipping in the mud. My arms flailed as he grabbed my mask and pulled me forward. The fabric ripped away, revealing who I was. A sharp kick to my leg sent me sprawling to my fucking face, mud splattering everywhere.
Then he fisted the back of my shirt and lifted me up. I’d never been lifted in the air before. It was as if the entire world was moving in slow motion – me, him, the rain falling from the sky and dropping into the puddle of mud beneath me.
Then, he released me, and everything fast-forwarded. I slammed into the ground hard, coughing up blood. He kicked at my shoulder. I rolled away from him before the second kick could land, entire body aching.
He swung at my face. Lying on the ground, dazed, there was no dodging the blow. He was strong as hell. Each punch he threw felt like a sledgehammer to my face. I had to get off the ground, or this would be my final resting place.
I felt him reaching into my holster, grabbing my guns. I reached for him, just as he tossed both weapons aside, then slammed his fist into my face again.
“I was ordered to beat you bloody before I killed you. So no guns,” the big bastard growled.
Fucking Scott!
I inhaled deeply, lungs on fire, and steeled myself against the next blow, raising my arms to block it. I pushed out as he swung. It dulled the intensity of his punch and gave me a chance to roll away from him.
I grabbed a handful of wet dirt and flung it into his eyes. He staggered, giving me a chance to rise. I don’t think I’d ever moved this slowly in my life. Neither had I ever been this disadvantaged in a fight.
Fuck his size.
I refused to die here today. The rain was coming down harder and mixing with the blood on my face, blurring my vision. I blinked, fists raised. The big man rubbed at his eyes, smearing the mud, making things worse for him. This was my chance. Staggering, I moved toward him and delivered a punch to his gut.
With one eye closed, he retaliated quickly, landing a blow to my shoulder. Pain shot through me, but I ignored it, focusing on the fight. I nearly fell over as I swung again. He was taller than me, larger than me.
My blows were barely registering with him. It was going to take some fire power to bring his big ass down. If only I could stop and look for my guns. But if I hesitated for even a moment, I’d be on the ground again.
"Need some help, big guy?"
Fuck! Scott!
Scott emerged from the forest with a sneer on his face. He lunged, joining the fray. It was now two against one and I’d already been struggling against the first motherfucker. I fought with everything I had, but the odds were against me.
Scott slammed his fist into my left cheek. My face jerked to the right. The big man slammed his fist into my right cheek, sending me stumbling in Scott’s direction.
“I knew you’d come for me,” Scott mumbled before punching me again. “I’d left you alone, but you just wouldn’t let me go. So. I hired backup.”
A punch to my gut made me double over. A punch to my side sent me to my knees.
Scott stood over me, gloating. “This is the end for you, Julian.”
Another hit. Then another. And another. I don’t know which strike caused my face to hit the ground. All I knew was that muddy water was in my eyes, nose, and mouth. I couldn’t tell which one of them was hitting me.
Fist, foot... it all blended together. My head was spinning. The rain felt like needles now, stabbing every inch of my skin. I choked on mud. I’d come here to end this once and for all. And it seemed it really would end, with me.
The world around me spun as my body jerked from each hit. Lightning clapped, lighting up the sky, revealing the trees above. It was morning, but it was still dark. The storm was here. Stefanie said it would come. Sweet Stefanie. Her voice drifted through my mind as my eyes drifted shut.
If you must be on the roads this morning, please be safe.
Please be safe.
I had to be safe. I had to get back to her. I forced myself to turn onto my side and curl up.
“Little Cattaneo bitch,” Scott sneered.
Rage surged through me as they punched and kicked at me. I slid my hand down into the side of my boot and gripped the weapon hidden there. I felt I would pass out soon. The only thing keeping me going was my rage and Stefanie’s voice in my head.
Please be safe.
I had to be safe. For her. Calling on a strength reserve I hadn’t known I had, I pulled the blade out and slashed, not knowing who I was swinging at. A wail of agony filled the night. Forcing my eyes open, I stared up and sliced again.
The big guy let out a roar as the knife cut across his stomach. He staggered back, clutching his midsection. Blood poured down his front, soaking his shirt and staining his sleeve. Scott stared at the man, eyes wide.
Scott’s hesitation left him open. I sliced the blade across his leg. He jumped back. I shoved myself to my knees and stabbed the knife down into his shoe, pushing it deep, relishing his howls of pain.
They fueled me, gave me the strength I needed to end this. I left the blade there and pushed myself to my feet. My gaze moved from Scott to the big guy. Scott was the weakest. I needed to finish the strongest first before my energy was depleted.
Body aching all over, I approached the big man. His gaze locked with mine. I saw the anger and disbelief in his eyes. If he thought I was going to be that easy to kill, he’d fucking thought wrong. With a snarl, he lowered his hand and rushed my way.
I dropped low, sliding the other blade from my shoe and rising just in time to swipe it across his face. A streak of red bloomed against his cheek. I didn’t hesitate to slash him with it again across his chest, then his abdomen. I continued swiping until he stumbled backward.
Beside me, Scott was crying like a little bitch as he stared down at his foot, unwilling to pull the knife out of it. I kept going after the big man. I swung, landing a punch to his cheek. It was like hitting a brick wall.
This man was rock solid. I swiped at him with the knife again, then punched, then slashed, then punched. Blood coated my knuckles and hand, spurting onto my face as I continued attacking him, afraid that if I slowed down, I’d collapse.
I cocked back and landed a blow to his chin that made his mouth snap shut and his head jerk back, throwing him off balance. His big ass slipped in the mud and hit the ground with a thud. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
I was on him in an instant. I didn’t waste my energy punching his big ass. I stabbed my blade into his throat, pulled the knife out, then stabbed again, over and over. Blood gushed each time I pulled it out.
He gasped for air but gurgled on his own blood, choking to death. The bastard’s dying gaze bore into mine, begging me to let him live. Fuck his life! I stabbed my knife into his eye, blinding him.
I stabbed the other eye, ensuring darkness would accompany him into hell. His face was a bloody mess, no longer recognizable. His body was covered in deep slashes. He’d be dead soon. I needed to save the rest of my energy for my true enemy.
My chest heaved as I pushed myself away from him. His body jerked, blood pouring from his mouth. His night could’ve gone differently if he’d made a better choice. Instead, he chose to go up against a Cattaneo. That was never the right choice.
Panting, I looked to the side. With the knife still in his foot, Scott was trying to limp away. I rolled to the side and slowly forced myself to my feet again. There was one more motherfucker I needed to kill.