36. CARLOS
CARLOS
“ H e’s ready,” Mark says, and I throw back the small glass of bourbon that I poured myself, a little celebration of the festivities that lay ahead.
I remove my shirt, throwing it over the back of the chair in the living room, and double check that I have what I need in my pocket. My knuckle duster that I’ve picked out especially.
“Someone means business,” Ivan says to me, smirking knowingly with Noah hovering behind him.
“What’s that?” I ask Ivan, pointing to what looks like some kind of BDSM equipment.
“Oh this? It's my newest invention. You know those paddles that people like to get spanked with to get them off?” I nod, wondering where this is going.
“Well this is special, look.” He turns over the paddle to reveal multiple nails of all sizes and shapes that have been attached to the paddle.
“Nice,” Lev says as he enters the room and goes over to inspect the torture device.
“Right? I haven’t tried it out yet. Can I use it on one of your guys? Or are you gonna be selfish?” he asks me, and I smile. Ivan is unique.
“There is someone you can try it on, but only when I say and you can only hit him a couple of times with that thing. I have other plans.”
“Excellent,” he says.
“Ready to start?” Lucas asks, and I walk over to him and pat him on the shoulder.
“Let's finish this.”
We both walk out of the room and everyone follows my lead as I take them to the room this all started in. The room with the worst memories. The meeting room where they broke Si.
As we walk in, I’m pleased to see Mark has followed through with my instructions. The poles on the stage in the middle of the room ironically now hold Enrico, bound to it as Simon was. His shirt removed, only his pants left.
“Carlos, I’m sorry. Please, whatever you’re planning to do, don’t. I’m your brother. I only did what I was told!” he begs as I walk over to grab the thin tailed leather whip that he used on my Simon.
“You’re not sorry. You’re scared, and you should be,” I say as I move behind him. The guys are all gathered at the front, like this is a paid show. Lev has his phone out to record, no doubt for Aaron.
“Is he the one that did this to Simon?” Dima asks, and I just nod. He looks at Enrico, his ice blue eyes cutting through Enrico like a laser. He deserves all the hate and all of the revenge.
Raising the whip just above my head, I push my strength directly to my wrist that sends energy through the tail, creating a wave effect of the whip before it hits its intended target.
Enrico. His screams are blood curdling, the sound of the cracks brings back memories of seeing Simon suffer under its brutality.
That just makes me hit harder. The second strike is more explosive, the sound startles me slightly even when I expect it.
The motion returns up through my arm, a physical vibration of power that's released and controlled.
Three strikes, four strikes… I continue for as long as my body can hold me up.
My shoulder and arm ache like I've lifted heavy weights for several hours. My body is covered in sweat, but I’m in the zone, too focused to let the discomfort bother me.
Enrico's back is covered in welts, some of which have split, showing what lay beneath the surface.
Red and raw. There is a primal intensity to this, a feeling of being dominant.
As I deliver another lash, not as hard as the others because I’m losing strength, the smell of the leather lingers in the air, mixed with sweat and blood.
I can nearly bite into the adrenaline that's pumping in the room.
It's palpable off the guys who are enjoying the show, enjoying the screams, the begging, the blood that’s splattered everywhere.
I lose count of the lashes I deliver. I want his skin removed from his back, only fat and tissue to be exposed.
“Carlos?” Lev says. I stop and look at him, I’m panting with exertion like I’ve run a marathon.
“Yeah?”
“Before he dies, which I think will be pretty soon, we want to leave a parting gift,” Lev says, and I notice the bottle of vodka in his hands. I instantly know what he’s thinking and move to the side of where Enrico is now passed out.
“Wakey, wakey,” Lev says, Ivan now with the phone in his hand, filming as Lev pours a generous amount of the spirits over Enrico's back. He jolts like being revived from the dead. He wails and writhes. Holy shit, that must burn.
“Yes! This is fucking awesome,” Ivan says, bouncing on his heels.
“Who wants to do the honors?” I ask. “You can have this kill, but my father is mine.”
“Can I do it?” Ivan asks.
“No. You got to do it last time. I want to do this. Doe will like it,” Lev says, almost pouting.
Doe, such a cute pet name for Aaron.
“And what about Tyler? He might like to watch me.”
“We fucking know that isn’t true,” Dima says.
“Yeah, he only likes you hurting him if I remember correctly,” Lev says.
“Can one of you just do it? We don’t have long until we have to leave and I still have two more to deal with,” I say, impatient to get to the grande finale.
Lucas is standing against the bar at the back with a look of amusement on his face. These guys are something special to be around.
“I’m doing it. I’m the one who flew you here. Consider it payment,” Noah says, walking forward in stealth mode. The guy is so quiet and hidden, I forgot that he was here.
“That was your decision, fuckface. Simon is one of us, so it should be us,” Lev snarls at Noah.
“I wasn’t asking,” Noah says flatly. The guy is like a robot. A hot, tall, tattooed and sexy robot.
“Ooh, I vote for Noah to do it,” Ivan says.
“This isn’t a fucking democracy that you get to vote on, Ivan. And stop sucking up to him, he will never be your bestie so give it a fucking rest,” Lev says.
“Hey! We are besties, aren’t we Noah?”
“I’ve told you not to talk to me,” Noah says, and he casually approaches. Before anyone has a chance to react, Noah lifts his bat with two hands above his head and hammers it down onto Enrico's head. Three swift and hard moves have turned my brother into mush. Fuck he’s strong.
“Wow, you’re the best, Noah. Aaron will fucking love this,” Ivan says, zooming in with the phone.
Lev goes to challenge Noah, but Dima holds him back.
“Leave it, Lev. It's done now and this wasn’t our war,” Dima says.
Lev points at Noah and the obvious feeling of alphas clashing is quite amusing. Noah doesn’t give a shit or even notice Lev and I think that pisses Lev off more. He wants a reaction.
“One day, Noah, we'll meet,” he warns. Noah ignores him and walks away. His bat with my brother's brain matter on it slung over his shoulder. But he leaves with monotone passing words.
“I really hope not. You talk too much and are too emotional for me to be around.”
Ivan and I laugh, and it's the first genuine laugh I have felt in a long time.
“Fuck you all,” Lev says before storming out, not before he grabs his phone back from Ivan.
I walk over to Lucas who is still standing at the bar.
“Where are they?”
“Out in the gardens, ready, as you requested.”
Excellent.
“Can I come watch?” Ivan asks, and I chuckle.
“Of course. You can actually help. Want to test your new weapon out?”
“Don’t flirt with me, Carlos. Tyler gets very possessive.”
“You’re safe from me. Come on.”
We walk outside and a few of Marin’s guards look at me before turning their attention elsewhere. I then notice that my torso is covered in blood and whatever else landed on me after Noah had his turn. But that's the downside of this kind of job. It gets messy.
Lucas walks us into a large open area of the garden. The vision in front of me is like a piece of art. I’ve gone old school in my methods. I want to feel their death and pain with my bare hands.
Two posts have been erected in the garden by Mark, and tied up to them both are the interfering old man Bruno, and Gabriel.
It’s reminiscent of those history pictures of people who were burned at the stake.
Gabriel is not worthy to be called my father, so from now on I will only refer to him by name.
I’m ashamed that we share the same blood, because he is not a true Silva.
A man of intelligence and conviction. Enrico was more like him than I thought, just a little more realistic that he knew you had to work to get something out of it.
“You have me tied up like a pig in my own garden! Have you lost your mind? Gone crazy like your mother!” he shouts and I stand motionless. My mother. I feel very little for most people in the world, but I know she is the only one that showed me the slightest piece of love and kindness.
“I think you have the word crazy mixed up with the meaning of the words loving and kind. You can spit all the shit you want, Gabriel, but the end is coming for you and I’m going to enjoy every last bit of it.
” I grab the four knuckle duster out of my trouser pocket, it's an old brass one given to me by my grandfather, each knuckle built up into a small spike. This was Simon’s favorite, I remember him staring at it in my display cabinet.
I stride over to him and flex my fist, I rear my arm back before using full force of motion as I punch him across the face.
Raw metal slams against my bones, the transfer of force runs back up through my arm.
But it was worth it to see the huge mark on his face, the small drips of blood, and to hear him wailing in pain.
“Is that a knuckle duster?” Ivan asks, grabbing my wrist to have a look.
“Yes, I collect them.”
“It’s given me an idea to make an upgraded version. You know, Ivan style.”
Going into this I thought it would feel heavy in mood. But I appreciate having Ivan here as he brings a lightness and humor I didn’t know I’d enjoy so much.
“You’re a disgrace to the family name. Your grandfather would be turning in his grave!” Bruno shouts.