Chapter 15 Cassian
CASSIAN
Enzo hauls the beaten man to his feet.
“Rami’s here?” Allegra asks, half out of her seat, hands gripping the edge of the table so hard, her knuckles are white.
Shit. I didn’t intend on giving that away. He’s the soldier who survived the shootout at the Maestro’s house.
“And you didn’t tell me?” she asks.
“I didn’t want to upset you. I was right.”
“No. You don’t get to decide that. Where is he? Where the hell is he?”
She takes a step toward Enzo who is half-carrying half-dragging the beaten man toward the crypt.
“Hold on, Allegra.” I wrap my hands around her arms, step between her and them.
“I want to see him. I want to see that bastard. Let me go!”
“Allegra. Relax.”
“Relax? He held my arm down. He did this to me! He did it and… and… He’s here in this house and you didn’t tell me!” Her voice breaks. Tears wet the skin around her eyes, and she shoves at me, trying to get past me.
“He’s the closest thing to finding Malek, Allegra,” I tell her firmly.
“He won’t know where he is. And even if he did, he’s not going to tell you!” she fights to get free. “Let me go!”
“No, Allegra. Stop.”
“How could you have him here? In this house? With me?” Her eyes are huge and panicked and I understand her anger. Her fear.
“You’re safe. I’d never let him near you. Never. I didn’t want to upset you. Look how upset you are. You needed to heal.”
She shakes her head, more tears coming. “Let me go!” She tries to push past me once more as Enzo returns. “He’s not going to last long,” Enzo says.
Shit. I need to talk to him. Find out who paid him to deliver that gun.
I draw a deep breath in. “I need to handle this. We’ll talk after.”
She’s shaking her head, furious, face flushed, the pulse on her neck beating wildly.
“I made you a promise. I won’t go back on my word, Allegra. Trust me, please.”
But she won’t listen. I don’t think she can. She’s too panicked, too caught up. The rug pulled out from under her. I turn to Enzo. “Give me your gun.” He hands it to me. “Take her,” I tell him. He comes forward to take Allegra.
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare!” she screams, fighting. Enzo is gentle, but he’s also firm.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. I tuck the weapon into the back of my jeans and walk toward the crypt because I need to find out who sent the gun.
Because if Severin is bringing him to me half-dead, I think it might be worse than I imagined.
Because Severin Blackstone sending it would be easy to handle.
Something I can make sense of. But if it’s not him, I’m running out of people and the ones remaining are too close to home.
I use the flashlight on my phone to guide me down the stairs toward the crypt.
As I reach the bottom of it, I see the light from a battery-operated lantern.
They’re more effective than a flashlight down here.
I’ve left Rami in pitch black since he’s been here.
I’ve only questioned him twice and both times, he’s pissed me off so much I’ve mostly just beaten him.
Now, Rami is sitting in the small cell in one corner and the man Enzo brought in is shackled by his ankle the wall. He’s lying on the ground and he’s so still I wonder if I’m already too late.
“Not going to get much out of that one,” Rami says with a grin on his face. His bruises are an angry purple and I decide I’ll add to the collage once I’m through with this man. But for now, I ignore him.
I crouch down and check the pulse of the man on the ground. It’s faint, but he’s got one. He opens his eyes and looks up at me. Well, I think he’s looking at me, but his face is so swollen it’s hard to say.
“Get up,” I tell him, standing and hauling him up with me. He grunts when I set him on the bench. I find I have to hold him to keep him upright.
His head drops down. I pull it by his hair to make him look at me.
“You’re going to die today. Very soon actually. You get to decide how that’s going to go. I can keep beating you or I can deliver a bullet. Up to you.”
He swallows tries to speak. After two attempts, he glances beyond me. I follow his gaze to the half-drunk bottle of water. Fine. I get up, bring it over and let him take a sip which mostly runs down his chin, but too bad.
“Bullet or a beating?” I ask.
“I have a family.”
“You should have thought about that before you delivered a loaded gun to my family. Bullet or beating. Last time I’ll ask.”
I set my weapon on the crypt where the water was and start to roll up my sleeves to make a point.
“Where did you get the gun?” I ask, hauling him up to his feet.
“I don’t know,” he manages.
I punch him in the gut. He doubles over.
“Where did you get the gun?”
He spits blood and clutches his middle. I straighten him, this time delivering a punch to his already broken nose. He goes down with that one.
“Where did you get the gun?”
I ask again. He holds up his hands, trying to catch his breath. “Wait. Wait. Please.” He wheezes.
I watch him, holding back. Severin beat the shit out of him. Did he do it himself or have someone do it for him? Because this is not what I expect of my stepbrother.
The man nods, licks his lips. He’s half doubled over.
“I got home one day and… I work for the Blackstones.” He takes a long break.
“I got home and my mother showed me a package. A bag. Left hanging on the front door. Cash inside. Shit ton of it.” He looks at that water again and I let him sit and take another sip.
“Continue.”
“The bag had a box alongside it. A note that said double that amount would be dropped off as soon as I made this delivery and the time and place.”
“So you delivered the box to a little boy?”
“I didn’t know what was inside. I swear.”
“But you delivered it all the same. You think someone paid you a wad of cash to deliver a fucking toy?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Then you’re a fucking idiot. Did you get the second drop of money?”
He nods, swallowing.
“Who was it?”
“Don’t know. I wasn’t home.”
“Your mother was?”
He swallows hard.
“I’ll go ask her then.” I get up.
“Wait! No. Please. She doesn’t know anything. It was a motorcycle. License was out of state, but she didn’t see which state. That’s all. Don’t hurt me. Please.”
“Fuckin’ whiner,” Rami says from his place.
I take the gun, cock it.
“Ah, no man,” the man starts, dropping to his knees I guess to beg. Rami laughs. “I told Mr. Blackstone. Please, I’ll disappear. I’ll—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish, though because I put a bullet between his eyes. His body thuds when it hits the ground.
I turn to Rami who’s watching. Who shifts his beady eyes to me, a challenge in them.
I think about how Allegra panicked upstairs. I think about how scared she’s been. And I remember my promise.
Pieces. I’ll deliver her enemies to her in pieces.
My gaze falls to the chopping block and butcher knife we put down here. When I look back at Rami, his grin vanishes. Good.
I put the gun beside the bottle of water and walk toward the cell, taking that butcher’s knife off the block and picking up the keyring hanging on the wall.
“You think this is funny?” I ask him, sliding the key into the lock and opening the cell door. It creaks, the metal rusted and ancient.
Rami is seated at the far end of the cell cradling his arm which I broke on day one. He looks at the knife, then at me.
“Hey, that was Malek. Not me.”
“Oh yeah? Let me ask you this,” I say, walking into the cell. “Did she set her hand on that block willingly? Hold it there for Malek to chop off her finger?”
His eyes narrow, shifting to the knife at my side then back to my face.
“I didn’t think so. Do you know what I promised her?” I ask him, satisfied when he backs away. “I promised to deliver her enemies to her in pieces.”
His back hits the wall. “They’re coming for you, you know that?”
“Are they? Is Malek coming for me? That would save me some time because from what I see, he’s hiding like the fucking coward he is. But I have you, don’t I? While I wait to smoke out that cockroach.”
His eyes settle on mine and what I see in them throws me off. Because he’s cocky. He’s about to be butchered. He knows he is. But he’s cocky.
“Tell me, did you touch her with these filthy hands?” I ask him, getting in his face, his rank smell turning my stomach.
“I can help you. I can find him for you.”
“Not what I asked. Did you touch her?”
He grins with one side of his mouth and my muscles tighten, my hand a fist around the handle of that knife as I take his forearm with the other.
He touched her. I know he did. And I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. How I’ve let him live for as long as I have.
“I did more than touch her. And I’m not the only one.”
“You’re a lying bastard.” She wasn’t raped. The doctor examined her. She confirmed Allegra hadn’t been raped. But I never asked Allegra if they did anything else. I couldn’t do that to her.
“She liked it. Whore like her mother before her. I had her too. Felt so warm and wet. Tasted good too.”
My heart thuds against my chest. Blood pumps so hard it blocks out the sound of him.
“You’re a fucking liar.” I say, my voice foreign to my own ears.
Rami grins. “Am I? Or maybe that little whore is the liar.”
“You fucking bastard,” I say, slamming his broken arm down on the ground so hard, he screams. “Hurt?” I ask.
“Fuck you.”
“I haven’t even started yet. I’m going to go slow. Take a little piece each day.”
“He’s going to come for what’s his.”
“She isn’t his.”
He laughs and the sound is deafening.
I look down at the fingers with which he touched her. The filthy hand he laid on her. I raise that knife high and bring it down hard and for one very brief moment, everything goes still. Rami. The room. Time. Everything.
And then he screams.
And I look down at the four fingers lying on the ground, the bloody nub of a hand with just a thumb. It’s more grotesque for it.
Rami screams and screams, eyes wide on the carnage of his hand.
I take his other arm, and he fights me, trying to get free.
He can’t. I have fury on my side. And when I chop off the fingers of that hand, I feel a grim satisfaction.
A sick balancing of scales, although they’ll never be equal.
Never. His life wouldn’t pay for a hair on her head.
Rami stares at his hands as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. He’s all thumbs now.
I tear my shirt over my head and gather up all his fingers inside it half-crazed myself. I get up, I don’t bother to lock the cell door. No need. I walk out of it.
“He’s coming for her, you fucking bastard!” Rami calls out behind me.
I pick up the gun and tuck it into the back of my jeans before walking toward the stairs when he starts to laugh a mad man’s laugh.
“He’s coming to get his wife!”
My world teeters sideways. My brain rattles against my skull.
Rami laughs.
I turn slowly, hear racing, blood roaring in my ears. I look into his disgusting face. “What did you say?”
He laughs louder, bloody stumps for hands in front of his face.
I hadn’t understood why he’d left her behind. Left her for me to find. It hadn’t made sense.
“You didn’t know? Guess she wouldn’t come running with the news.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I say, stalking back toward the cell, toward him and pressing the barrel of the pistol to the side of his head so hard, his cheek is crushed against the wall.
“They’re coming for you, the family,” he says through gritted teeth because even now, even with his hands as they are, he’s scared to die. He’ll do anything to stay alive. “You kidnapped his wife, after all. You fucking prick.”
I lower the weapon, press it to his stomach and pull the trigger.
He grunts, doubles over, drops to his side. Blood pours form his stomach, and I stand watching him.
“That’s going to hurt like a mother fucker. And then you’re going to die slow. But not fucking slow enough.”