Chapter 51
FIFTY-ONE
FRANKIE
The next day, as Cassie adjusts to normality, I take time out and leave the gates of Rockwell behind me.
I have the directions on my phone and as I drive an hour out of town, I wonder what will be waiting for me.
I have been summoned by my uncle for an update and this time our rendezvous is at a disused hotel near Pike’s river. It’s an old town that fell into ruin when the highway was redirected. Most of the people left for the new one just off the new highway, but this old landmark remained and is the home of vermin—literally.
I note the guards surrounding the perimeter and as I pull up at the rusty gates, they check I’m invited.
“Mr. Majerio.” The guard salutes me respectfully and as I am allowed to pass, I wonder if this will ever get old.
My family holds the respect of all the guards and there are many—a small army in fact. Every one of my uncles is a mafia don with their own empire to run and when we gather together at Club Mafia, the home we share in the middle of nowhere, the empire comes with us.
However, this old hotel is nobody’s empire and as I push open the creaking front door and step inside the gloomy entrance hall, my uncle’s consigliere is there to meet me.
“Good to see you, Frankie.” His smile is wide and I return it with one of my own.
“Ali.”
He falls into step beside me.
“Your uncle is in the guest bedroom. He would like you to meet our guest personally.”
I never know what to expect when I walk into an interrogation room. I have never been shielded from the harsh realities of our life and I wouldn’t want to be.
Ali directs me to a door toward the end of the corridor and tortured groans greet me as I head inside.
My uncle turns and smiles his welcome. I notice he is dressed for business in his usual black suit and black shirt and dark expression.
“Frankie. I believe you have already met Jason Forest.”
“Not formally.”
The ‘guest’, otherwise known as The Predator, is slumped in a chair, his wrists bound behind his back and his ankles shackled to the chair legs. He is sweating profusely and appears in obvious discomfort, although there is not a mark on his body that I can see.
“Jason has a lot to say. You will be interested in hearing it.”
I say nothing and uncle Malik addresses Jason. “Tell him who you work for, Jason.”
“Nobody. I work alone.”
His voice is faint but his words are clear and I stare at my uncle in surprise.
Malik nods. “Now tell him who you want to work for.”
“Christian Duprey.” He hisses as he groans in pain.
“You see, Frankie–” My uncle shakes his head.
“It appears that our guest has a yearning to become a member of The Serpent Society. Even going as far as inking the emblem on his wrist as if he already was.”
He shakes his head in pretend dismay.
“He overstepped his mark and was, in fact, merely auditioning for a place in the aforementioned society.”
My uncle takes a knife from a nearby table and holds it flush against Jason’s crotch and hisses, “Apparently, raping a girl assures fast-track entry.”
With one swipe of his blade, he stabs the knife into Jason’s cock and his scream of agony is hard to hear.
I watch as the blood pours down in a river onto the floorboards below and as Jason sobs uncontrollably, uncle Malik hisses, “Who arranged your audition, Jason?”
Jason screams his pain and then gasps, “Jenna Sloane.”
Fuck! I stare at my uncle in shock as he turns to me, his eyes gleaming with malevolence as he says darkly, “Jenna Sloane. Or Miss Sloane to you. The same art teacher at Rockwell Academy who is currently grooming your best friend to take Jason’s place.”
I turn to Jason and yell, “Is this true? Did Jenna Sloane recruit you to the Serpent Society and how?”
I must know every detail and yet, from the look of Jason, his heart could fail at any moment.
Uncle Malik nods to Ali, who moves toward Jason and injects something into his arm and he jerks on the chair as the blood rushes back to his face.
“Torture by pressure point is most pleasurable, but a shot of adrenalin is sometimes required to prolong the experience.”
It’s as if my uncle is taking tea with a friend and not ending this man’s life in the most brutal of ways.
“Tell him, Jason. What is Jenna Sloane’s position in The Serpent Society?”
“Recruitment.” He gasps. “She selects a student and seduces them. Bewitches them and alters their mind with drugs. They will do anything for her because she is the key to The Serpent Society.”
“Is it true that you must commit three tests before you are allowed to be inducted into the society training program?”
Malik whispers darkly and Jason nods, sobbing painfully as his blood spills to the ground.
“Three tests, rape, murder and kidnapping.”
My blood runs cold.
I catch my uncle’s eye and he shakes his head with disgust.
“So, you raped Abigail.” My voice is strong, but I am falling apart inside. “What was Cassie’s fate going to be?”
He says nothing and I yell, “What were you going to do to her?”
I advance slowly as he shakes his head and groans, “Murder.”
My vision blurs as I picture what could have happened if my uncle’s guards weren’t there, because I may have been too late.
I address my uncle in a voice devoid of emotion.
“Have you finished with him?”
He nods, gazing at the scene with a thoughtful expression and as I grip Jason’s face, I stare him straight in the eye and hiss, “You were going to murder my girl. You wanted to. You took pleasure from causing pain, which is why you deserve to experience your own.”
I reach for the knife and rip his shirt open, exposing his chest and then I take my time as I carve one word onto his skin, his cries music to my ears as I balance the scales.
I stand back and admire my handiwork and my uncle snorts as he reads the word out loud.
Rapist
You’ve got that right. He shakes his head and pats me on the back. “Good work.”
This was my revenge for Cassie and Abigail. This miserable piece of shit craved a life of rape, murder and kidnapping and thank God he only got to fulfill one of his aims.
I hand the knife back to my uncle and turn my back on Jason and growl, “It was nice catching up, uncle. Thank you for your help with this.”
“Keep in touch, Frankie.” Are my uncle’s passing words and as I walk out of the room, Jason’s cries following me out, I caress the burning ball of hatred growing inside me for a certain teacher who goes by the name of Jenna Sloane.