Chapter 12
Pip
“I’m not talking,” dumb rat said as Pharrell punched him again and again. He was covered in blood and would probably go into shock soon if we didn’t treat those wounds.
I really loved the idea of keeping him on the brink of life only to torture him a bit more. Nothing like the screams of the weak to make a man feel good.
Not like that, you fuck.
The weak as in the men who backstab to get their way. It’s despicable knowing they try to switch sides or pretend to be some kind of spy. This isn’t the fucking movies. That shit doesn’t work out here in the real world.
Exhibit A.
Our dumb rat was finding out why you don’t cross men in the Cosa Nostra. It was a fool’s choice.
“You should just tell him. We’ve got all night. Ricardo is handling the rest of the shipment so you’re just our plaything. If he finishes though—” I whistled instead of finishing my sentence.
No need to elaborate about the man who was clearly nowhere near done getting his anger out.
I’d seen many sides of Pharrell through the years. He’d hired me a few times, and others we’d just happened to wind up in the same places. I couldn't remember a single time he’d been this hungry for blood.
It was like he had a point to prove to everyone.
Made sense given the shit his dead wife had done. I never liked the bitch. Always made me feel like she was keeping secrets from us all.
She had to go ahead and prove me right after all.
Fuck.
“You should know by now I’m a patient man. I can do this all night.” Pharrell wiped sweat from his brow. A blood trail formed in the wake of the movement. I wasn’t sure if it was from his split knuckles or from the man he’d been tearing apart.
The entire situation was fucked up. Ricardo’s plan had seemed ridiculous when he first mentioned it. And though I liked that he caught this bastard, I fucking hated that we didn’t get any intel in the switch. At least his employer’s name would do us good.
“How’s it going?” Ricardo asked as he stepped into the room.
I raised my brow at him, then grinned to show how much I was enjoying myself. Even without hitting the rat myself, I felt the thrill of a good beatdown moving through me.
“Having the time of our lives tonight. You?”
He shook his head, then moved to stand beside Pharrell. I wondered if he realized how often he did that—walk into a room and move straight to the other man.
Some would say it’s a show of loyalty. I suspected it was more.
I’d have to keep watch over them both since the boss had a soft spot for the newbie. Not like I had other plans for now anyway. I’d shut down all contract offers for the time being while I helped Pharrell settle.
Don’t ask me why.
It just felt like the right thing to do.
I liked the guy. No, not like that.
He was good people.
“Has he said anything at all?” Ricardo asked Pharrell.
The other man frowned as he kicked the man bolted to the floor. “He’s keeping his mouth shut well for someone who won’t make it out of here alive. That’s some fucked up loyalty.”
Ricardo hummed, then pushed past Pharrell to take in the rat. “I wonder,” he said softly.
Next thing I knew, he’s got a knife in his hand, and he cut through clothing. The shirt fell away, revealing a bruised and tattooed torso. The pants were removed right after. Left in just his underwear, the rat looked pitiful.
I chuckled as I circled him like the predator I was. One nod from Pharrell, and I’d get to have my version of fun with him. He’d be my pet to play with for as long as I pleased.
“What are you doing?” Pharrell growled.
I looked over to see Ricardo running his hands over the other man’s body. Where he’d been quiet before, the touch seemed to send him into a frenzy.
“No! Fuck! Stop that shit! I’m not—”
“Found it,” Ricardo said with a smirk. “You did good hiding it, but even I know better than to leave evidence. Should have fucking carved it out.”
Pharrell tugged on Ricardo’s arm until he stood. “What is it? Explain.”
The pair stared at each other for longer than necessary, a silent conversation happening between them. When Ricardo finally spoke, Pharrell’s shoulders dropped as if he were relieved.
“He has a brand on his upper back. There are tattoos covering it. You wouldn’t be able to see it, but it’s there if you touch it. One of you should see if you know what it is.”
“No need,” I said as I kicked the rat in the back.
Sure, they hadn’t said I could, but with the news of a brand, I figured they were officially done with him.
“Branding means Bratva.” Pharrell’s voice held no emotion.
“Stasia was Bratva wasn’t she? They put a fucking rat in your ranks?”
At Ricardo’s anger, our boss smiled. “Seems that way. Then again, he could have been here as Stasia’s pet. My late wife had a thing for keeping things she shouldn’t have. It’s a shame her family didn’t call him back. This is going to cause so much more trouble than he’s worth.”
Pharrell’s gaze turned to me. “Can you take care of this? I’m tired and would like to get cleaned up.”
With a smile, I saluted him. “Absolutely, Boss. I’ll have a bit of fun first, if you don’t mind.”
He waved his hand to signal he didn’t care, then he and Ricardo moved as if to leave. I watched them go, curious as to why it felt like something had shifted tonight. Like maybe there were things I didn’t understand but should have.
Who knows?
I shrugged and skipped over to the wall of goodies—aka weapons. Selecting a bat with spikes on the end, I figured a little batting practice would be fun. Granted, it would also kill him quickly, but it was still gruesome enough to tickle my fancy.
“Hey, batter, batter,” I cried out as I pulled my arm back and then swung. The sound of a fractured skull and brain matter filled my ears. “Home run! And the crowd goes willllllld!”
I pulled my arm back, ready to swing again. I waited for the thrill to come. That high that always found its way into my system when I got a bit bloody.
Except it didn’t.
Usually, I’d spend hours working someone over. They’d be unrecognizable once I finished. There was an art to it. A beautiful magic to the way I could take apart the human body.
But all I could think about was Henny’s face when Ricardo’s message interrupted us. We’d gone from arguing to all business in an instant. It’s the way we had to be. We couldn’t bring our shit into the family.
It would have to wait until we could be alone. We couldn’t avoid it now that the dam broke.
With my focus shot, I looked down at the body. Guy was dead. Very dead. I’d done what the boss instructed.
“Faster than usual,” I mumbled, watching the lack of movement from his chest.
This was stupid. Rushing through kills wasn’t like me. They were literally my favorite fucking part of the business. Yet right that minute all I could do was picture my Henny with his tablet, a scowl, and that bossy voice ordering people around.
I wanted him to order me around. I wanted that dominance he wore so easily when it was just us two to make an appearance again, urging me to drop to my knees and do anything he said.
“Fuck,” I shouted as I dropped the bat. “I’m a mess.”
Duh, you idiot.
My subconscious was great at reminding me of the obvious. I’d been a mess for far longer than this thing with Henny had been going on. This time it just seemed to be affecting everything in my life rather than making me murderous.
The old me would still be swinging a bat. He would have hit and carved and chopped until someone had to come drag him away.
Apparently that version was gone.
The new me was already stomping over to the sinks to clean up. I rinsed my hands as I thought about what I’d say once I saw Henny again. While scrubbing my boots free of brain matter, I contemplated how we’d come to some kind of agreement about the future.
The list of things to discuss was long: where to live, what to do about work, how did we handle the Daddy part, date nights, and more.
I headed to the door as soon as I was decent enough to not catch anyone’s attention. Swinging the heavy metal open, I turned to the guard perched there and pointed behind me.
“Call for cleanup. I’m done.”
The man looked past me. His face went pale, then he gave me a quick nod. If he was bothered by that little bit, he’d have tossed chunks at my full capacity work.
Weakling.
He didn’t matter though.
What mattered was getting to Henny.
Ok, so getting to Henny seemed to be easier said than done. There was no sign of him in the warehouse. I searched the main area, where Ricardo had pulled up for his big love declaration, and I looked in the room where all the inventory appeared to have been completed.
The place was a ghost town. No sign of Henny’s familiar frown or quick stride.
“Where did you go?” I muttered.
A voice shouted from somewhere in the darkness of the space, “What was that?”
I didn’t startle, but I damn sure felt like an idiot for not knowing someone was with me. That’s what getting lost in thoughts about this man did to me. He made me lose all my self-preservation.
“I was just talking to myself. Wondered where everybody went.”
The guy shrugged. “Boss and Ricardo left not long ago. Told everyone to go home. Henri left right after you went to kill…”
He stopped talking as realization hit him. He was talking to me casually like I wasn’t the psycho they all knew I was.
I grinned, unable to hide the amusement I felt. “Henny’s been gone a while then?”
“Yes, sir,” he rasped as I walked his way. “Heard him say he needed to do some reports at the main casino.”
“Excellent! Appreciate you.” I smacked him on the shoulder as I passed. He twitched under my hand, though he managed to stay upright.
Points to him.
Knowing Henny was long gone didn’t help my mood. If anything, it pissed me off even more.
Why did I always have to track his ass down?
Why couldn’t he stick to my fucking side like he was supposed to?
The thought made me stop mid stride.