41. Dante
41
DANTE
I wipe the blood and tissue matter from my face in the bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror, wondering what I’ve become. All I can think is that I need to shower as soon as I get home, before Kingsley can see or smell me. I don’t want her to know what’s happened here today. I don’t want her to smell the stench of blood on me. She can never know what I’ve become. And I don’t want her to ever see this side of me.
“You okay?” Marco asks.
“Hang him upside down until he squeals,” I order. This is the moment where I’ve become a monster. This is the moment where I’ve let a woman become the center of my universe and I realize I will do anything – even kill – to protect her.
Marco pauses at the door, as though waiting for a change in directive. I glance at him in the mirror, my hooded eyes absorbing his uncertainty.
“You heard me,” I tell him, and my voice is so firm, he knows I won’t change my mind. This is what it has come to. At some point, as head of the Accardi family, I would have had to make this call. The story of how I coldly wiped out the men who betrayed our safety would surely make the rounds, and I would come to be known as a beast. Not that I was aiming for that title. But people would forever think twice about crossing us before they do so. Indeed, they would think long and hard before they go down that road.
Marco turns and walks away. I listen as Tomas’s deafening screams echo through the deserted building, for once his voice filled with fear. It is not bad enough that he wet his pants, now he’s shown just how spineless he really is. Serves him right for having underestimated me.
“I will ask you one last time,” I say, walking rapidly towards him, a lead pipe in my hands.
I angle my body around Tomas, walking in circles around his torso, at times tapping the pipe to his legs. And by tapping, I mean smacking. By this time, he resembles a rag doll, but still he refuses to break and give me what I need. Even shooting out the brains of one of his colleagues does not seem like it’s enough to loosen his tongue.
I am losing my patience. With every turn I make around his body, expecting that this will be the moment that he spills his guts, I get more and more impatient as I wait restlessly for him to give up the information I want. There is only one thing I want more than to put an end to this, and that is to go home to Kingsley. It amazes me that I now consider her my home. Being apart from her is doing things to my heart I can’t explain.
“You could… kill me… for all I care,” he spits. “I’m not giving you anything.”
It is a good thing my men have done their research. Tomas Wojcak might not care what happens to his men. He maybe doesn’t even care if he ends up in a hole six feet under, but he will definitely care about my trump card. I bring out my phone and dial a number before holding it to my ear. I walk toward Tomas, pause and look him dead in the eyes, before I move the phone away from my ear and turn the screen around so he can clearly see what we have our eyes on. His nine year old son Willis runs around the school playground, the image playing out so clearly the result of a telescopic lens from a long range rifle.
Tomas gasps, his eyes flying to mine, pleading silently for us not to hurt his son. It is a dick move, and I would never hurt his son, but it is the only leverage I have to end this swiftly.
“You know I can’t promise you anything unless you give me something in return.”
The implication of my words is obvious. Tomas closes his eyes in defeat and lets out a curse.
“Do not hurt my son.”
“I can guarantee you his safety if you put an end to this now.”
“Tate.”
It is one single word and it makes my heart stop. But it’s one word that makes all the sense in the world. Who else could possibly want her dead? The obvious answer would be Tate. He is the only family she has left in the world. It has to be him. But why?
“I need more than that.”
My voice is so low yet so sharp, it cuts through the silence of the studio with a violent streak.
“He had me follow the girl. I waited until the opportunity presented itself. He told me to rape and kill her. Make sure she wasn’t breathing.”
My blood is turning to ice as he speaks, the last shreds of my sanity no longer tethered to this world. I will kill him. I will kill him then roast him over a spit until he is nothing but charred ash.
“Go on.”
“When you turned up unexpectedly, that plan went the way of the wind. Tate was furious. Crazy mad.”
I recall Kingsley telling me how angry Tate had been the night she went home after her attack. There had been an imbalance between the anger he displayed against the magnitude of the situation.
“So, in essence, he planted you at the club.”
“And he gave us the address to your safe house before we attacked it. The intel was all Tate.”
“What about the tunnel?”
This man had shot me. I still had the scars as evidence. My body was still slow after the assault. And I had yet to fully recover.
“A total fluke. One of our contacts saw you near our headquarters and knew you’d have to cross the bridge to get back into your territory.”
I am skeptical about the veracity of that claim, but don’t think Tomas has it in him to lie now after he’s already started sharing the important facts regarding his association with Tate.
“Why? Why does he want her dead?” I ask.
“He offered enough money not to ask that question. I can only imagine he wants her out of the way to take control of Murray’s empire.”
“What else did he offer you?”
“A seat at the table once he’s in control.”
So many things make so much sense now. I give Tomas a vicious look then turn away, indicating with a nod of my head that we are done here. I have to get back home. I have to get back to Kingsley. Tomas Wojcak could rot in hell for all I care; the soldiers we left behind would see to it that he and his ilk are taken care of so they would no longer be a problem for us.