30. Heaven
CHAPTER 30
HEAVEN
I pace the waiting room at NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital, glancing into the corner where Roman is huddled against the wall with his phone to his ear. I know he’s calling the rest of his family.
Sergio stands over by a window, a vacant stare in his eyes. I walk toward him, not wanting to speak a word. But somehow being with Matteo’s brother makes me feel closer to him. It seems silly but comforting at the same time.
“Did he tell you about Joey?” Sergio asks in a tired voice.
“Your cousin?” I hesitate before answering. “Yes, he mentioned him.”
“He blames himself for fucking up, which he did. You didn’t know him then. Wild, out of control. He didn’t do his duty, and Joey died. Don’t get me wrong, he loved our cousin, but he was young and reckless and because of that, he sees it as him signing Joey’s death warrant. It made him a harder, stronger man. A leader. Losing you? I think it would have destroyed him.”
He told me he loved me.
But I just stay quiet.
“I’ve never seen Matteo like he was today. He was desperate to get to you, Heaven. He’d have never let anything happen to you, I want you to know that. What you heard, what he did…this is our world, and he fell for you. Matty isn’t that man. But you turned him inside out. And he was ready to go after Dominguez to make sure you stayed safe.”
I nod, my voice too choked to speak.
Sergio looks at me. “I know we don’t know each other at all, but my brother is a good man. He’s had his share of fuckups and he’s made some bad judgment calls, like all of us, but he’s the most loyal guy I know. And he ran hard for that bullet, taking it so you didn’t.”
“I know,” I whisper. “He saved my life.”
“Yeah,” Sergio says. “I know things happened fast with you two and shit didn’t go exactly according to the script of a fairy tale, but he’d have given anything to keep you safe. Including his life.”
I swallow the sob that bubbles in my chest. “This can’t be the end,” I whisper. Sergio opens his arms and pulls me close.
“Matty is a stubborn old fuck. And he’s vicious. He’ll fight hard, Heaven, because he knows what he has.”
“So do I,” I whisper. “So do I.”
“Mrs. Villani?”
I jump at the intruding voice, spinning around to see one of the nurses, and I can’t read her expression. Professional, somber. Fear spikes. “W-what is it? Is he…will he…?”
“Your husband coded. He’s in emergency surgery.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry I don’t have more of an update for you right now.”
Sergio’s arm tightens around my shoulders, and I’m grateful for the support, my legs wobbling. The nurse scurries back through the large red doors. Aunt Maura rushes over to me.
“Your dad’s being patched up now. They’ll probably keep him for another hour or two just for observation. Patrick is taking care of the pub. No sign of Conor.” She bites down on her lower lip, gaze moving from Sergio to me. “How’s Matteo?”
Words won’t come. I shake my head as tears threaten to fall again. I’m not letting them. I refuse. Matteo would hate them, and I already cried on him today. She wraps her arms around me, stroking my back like she used to do when I was young.
Back then, it was comforting.
Now all it does is make me feel confined.
I may not be able to save my husband, but I may be able to avenge him. And my family. Just like I said I would.
Before I can do anything, the weasel himself, Conor, bursts into the emergency room, running over to us.
I push away from Aunt Maura as he dangles car keys in front of me. “I got one of the fuckers,” he hisses. “He’s in the trunk. And I have a location for Dominguez.”
Adrenaline floods my veins and I grab Conor’s wrists. “I’m going. Now .”
He shakes his head. “No.” A murderous gleam lights his eyes. “We. I’m involved, Heaven. We go. He’s fucking finished.”
I’m going to need backup, and I’m not putting anyone from Matteo’s family in danger. Conor caused this. I don’t care about the deal Matteo had with Dominguez. Conor started the real danger. “Fine. We’ll go.”
I go back over and look up at Sergio. “I have family business to take care of. Call me the second you hear anything.”
“Fuck that, I’m coming with you,” he says.
“Family—”
“Matty will kill me if something happens to you. You’re going after Dominguez and I’m coming. I want a crack at this bastard, too.”
“Fuck.”
He stares at me in a way that’s so Matteo, I almost lose my shit. I nod. “Don’t get killed.”
“You, either, Mrs. Villani.”
I look at Aunt Maura. “Tell Roman and Dad we’re taking care of family business and call me the second you hear anything.”
She grabs me, pulling me in for a tight hug. “Be careful,” she whispers. “And be smart. He’ll be expecting you.”
“Not this time. He won’t see me coming at all .”
“What the hell do you expect to do when you find Dominguez?” Conor demands when we’re in his car minutes later.
“I’m going to kill him,” I reply in a calm voice.
“The fuck you are!” he yells. “This is my beef, not yours! I’m gonna finish him!”
“It became my beef when he sent his men after me.” I turn and glare at Conor. “It became my fight when he almost took my husband’s life. And now Matteo still might die, so yeah, my beef takes fucking priority here.”
Sergio doesn’t say a word, but the air around him speaks volumes. Conor, as usual, can’t read a situation. I wouldn’t have anything to do with him right now if it was up to me, but he’s not telling me a thing, and the dead body in the trunk’s not going to talk.
I have no choice. I need him.
“You don’t get to pick your kills, Heaven. That’s not how this works!” Conor slams his foot on the brake at a red light, a few blocks from Central Park North.
I grab my brother’s chin and turn it toward me. “It works this way because I’m calling the shots. Your fifteen minutes are up, Conor, and you’ve fucked up plenty in that short amount of time. So step off and let me handle Dominguez.” I pause. “Sergio, you have an extra gun? Knife?”
“Both. And they’re yours.”
“Excellent.” I squeeze Conor’s face. “So, you step off and let me handle shit, or you might find a knife buried in your goddamn thigh before you even have a chance to get out of this car. Or worse.”
Sergio lets out a low whistle from the back seat. “My sister-in-law is a badass bitch,” he mutters, then hands me a gun and a knife. “I’m good with this plan, Heaven. Just so we’re clear.”
“Smart guy,” I say. I look at both weapons and take the knife. A Kershaw automatic blade. One click of the button and the stainless steel blade pops out, the sharp tip glimmering in the sunlight streaming through the windshield.
“You need a gun, too,” Conor says.
“You guys are going to cover me while I find Dominguez. You need the guns. I’ll be fine with the knife.”
No one hears a knife. With a knife, I can get up real close. Make it fucking hurt.
If I focus on the fury, I keep the fear at bay.
“How sure can we be that Dominguez is gonna be at this address?” Sergio asks. “The guy in the trunk wasn’t the only one there. Someone’s reported in by now.”
“That’s just a chance we’re gonna have to take.” Conor hooks a right turn into the park entrance. “Before he pissed his pants and I fired a blank at his temple, the fucker said Dominguez will be too busy with his new shipment of pussy to worry about us. Today, his priority is fucking virgins. Tomorrow, he’ll be back on us.”
White hot and sharp, a new anger comes. And all I can see—apart from Matteo bleeding—is Molly. Men like Dominguez repulse me, and what Matteo said he’d do to me…is that what happened to Molly?
I focus on the anger.
“He’ll be on his back for sure. But it’ll be because he’s dead,” I say, flicking open the knife over and over.
Conor drives through the park, which is surprisingly pretty desolate at this time of the morning. I gaze out the window, scouring the landscape for any signs of life. Ominous figures move through the trees, out of plain sight. Dominguez’s cockroaches. Just waiting to snuff out any threats.
“Talk, Conor,” I say.
The place is located in the Ravine, a heavily forested area in the park. Smart. But good for us, too. Conor explains the setup as he winds around the roads in the park.
“There’s a building hidden in the trees where Dominguez’s crew transports boatloads of young women every month. Apparently, some are sold into slavery, and some work for Dominguez himself. The cartel lures them from different places in Latin America, then they’re brought here and sold into lives of prostitution.”
And drug addiction to keep them docile or the nightmares at bay. I swallow hard, the anger festering like an infection deep in my gut.
Just like Molly.
If she even survived long enough.
Girls who put up too much of a fight are ‘handled’ by their captors. The money isn’t worth the headaches as far as they’re concerned. Too many times, I’ve heard nightmare stories of these poor girls being shot up with so many drugs that they end up overdosing before they can be sold to the highest bidder. And their lives come to a tragic halt.
Dominguez is the worst of the worst, and Molly suffered the same end as far as we know. My heart physically aches. For her. For all of them.
My ears roar with the imagined sounds of torture, torment, and realization when these girls figure out what their lives had been reduced to, that they will never see their friends and families again, that the futures they planned for themselves will never come to fruition.
So help me, I need to silence those sounds.
This isn’t just about my vengeance, about my need for retaliation. This is about speaking for those who can’t any longer. Not redemption, not just making Molly’s fate mean something, but ending the life of a vile piece of shit, stopping just a small part of this endless loop of suffering. And I’m going to enjoy his death.
Dominguez should have killed me when he had the chance.
We take a final turn and stop about fifty feet from the building.
Conor turns off the car and looks at us. “It’s broad fucking daylight in this shithole section of the city. I think this is a bad idea.”
“Don’t think, Conor. Save your last few brain cells for when we get inside,” I snap.
“You know, you’re pretty fucking mouthy for someone who’s being hunted by a drug lord,” Conor says. “You need me. Show some fucking respect.”
I narrow my eyes. “Respect? You put me here, Conor. You’re also being hunted, and you put us in this situation when you killed not only his second but his daughter. You know, when you took on the cartel, on some fucked-up, drug-fueled whim? I don’t have to respect you. I just have to work with you.” I turn to look at Sergio. “Ready?”
“Always.”
“I’m going for Dominguez,” I say.
“You’re not gonna get far with a knife.” Conor picks up Sergio’s gun.
“Watch me. Knives don’t make noise.” I click open the knife again, then fold it. Sergio reaches over and takes back his gun. I look around the mess of a car and grab two ball caps, throwing one at Conor and handing one to Sergio. “Put these on. You two will take me to the entrance, pretending that you’re part of the delivery team. You tell them you have more girls in the car and I’m marked for the boss. As soon as they let you pass, it’s showtime.”
“Are you fucking insane?” Conor asks. “They won’t buy it.”
“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Sergio says.
“It’s also necessary.” I glare at Conor. “It’s the only way inside. We need to get in before we can find Dominguez. Now come around and pull me out of the car in case anyone is watching.”
Conor presses his lips together, but for once, does what I ask. He opens the car door, bending down to scoop me out of the front seat. I go limp against him, and he walks toward the building, while my feet drag along the patchy grass.
He stops at a door. My heart hammers. This plan is sketchy at best. I may have sounded super confident, but the reality is we have no idea what we’re going to find inside.
If we even get inside.
I just hope we acted fast enough to prevent any news from getting to Dominguez.
The heavy metal door creaks open and my breath hitches.
“We’re here with a delivery,” Conor grunts. “Got more in the car. Virgin pussy, straight from Dublin. This one’s for the boss.”
A thick Mexican accent mutters a response. “Take her inside. How many others?”
“Two,” Sergio says. “High class. Real fresh.”
He clicks his tongue against his teeth, tilting my chin backward. I let my head fall and his fingers travel down the front of my shirt. “She’s sweet. Bring her inside. And get the others,” he says to Sergio who gives a quick nod and backs away. I let my head fall over Conor’s shoulder when he pulls me through the door. I open my eyes the slightest bit to take in the scene but it’s quiet, save for the other guy just inside.
Security. I’ll bet there are pockets of guards set up all over this building.
Bend the fuck over and kiss your asses goodbye, punks.
I push away from Conor, and jam my blade into the side of the guy who let us in. Conor plugs two bullets into the chest of the other guy.
Thank God for silencers.
Sergio appears next to me, holding the barrel of his gun to the guy’s temple. He winces and weeps like a bitch.
I could have gutted him, but I want to find his boss, and I don’t want to knock on every door throughout this place.
“Shut the fuck up,” Sergio mutters and I twist the knife.
“Hold it together,” I whisper to the guy. “The only words I want to hear from your disgusting mouth are the ones that tell me where to find your boss.”
“I…d-don’t…k-know.” The guy sputters as he talks.
I dig the knife in deeper. “Bullshit. Tell me now or I will slice your fucking throat.”
His eyes water, his chest heaving as Sergio curses in Italian.
“Kill him,” he says. “We can’t waste any more time.”
I pull the blade from his side, and just as I’m about to impale his heart, he speaks. “Please, stop! He’s in the playroom at the back of the building. It’s where he evaluates all the girls and picks out his own.”
My stomach churns, bile rising in the back of my throat.
Just like Molly.
Just like Molly.
I couldn’t save her. The enemy stole her life away from us. But I’ll be goddamned if I let that happen again.
I won’t lose anyone else.
I will fight.
I will defend.
And I will fucking win.
These assholes won’t crush another human life ever again. I focus. “Who would be in there with him?” The tip of my knife hovers over his carotid artery.
“Just one other guy. The handler. The one who takes care of Dominguez’s girls.”
A nasty smile tugs at my lips. “Thank you for being so cooperative.”
I jam the knife into his flesh, and he clutches his throat, crumbling to the floor. I drop to my knees, making sure he can see my face as he dies.
“You sure you’re not Russian? You remind me a lot of my good friend Katarina. She’s a brutal bitch, too,” Sergio says.
“I’m not Russian,” I say flatly. “I’m just fucking pissed off.”
I square my shoulders, ignoring the knot in my stomach, the one that not so gently reminds me that we haven’t heard a word from Roman about Matteo’s condition.
I’ll take out the threat. I’ll destroy the man who shot at me, shot my husband.
And I pray I’ll see Matteo again.