Chapter 37 Cade
Chapter Thirty-Seven
CADE
“You didn’t tell her we have them both?” Enzo asks.
“Of course not. I’m in love with her. I don’t want her thinking I’m a psychopath.”
He snorts. And punches Thomas once more.
The brass knuckles do the job, and he grunts.
“Your turn.” Enzo steps back. “And you’re not a psychopath. This is vigilante stuff.”
“Vigilantes tend to have problems.”
“Well, don’t we all? Look at Thomas here.” Enzo looks at me. “He’s got issues. Likes to kidnap girls, likes to sell them. Has a load of fucked up morons who buy girls who will be going down. One way or the other.”
I pick up the confession we made him write.
The thing is, as much as I hate this man, he’s a businessman, and he saw an opening. He’d never have made money illegally with human trafficking if there wasn’t a market. We’ll never close the market, but we can do a lot of damage.
I hand the confession to Enzo. “You know, Thomas, it’s a pity you tried to put your fingers where they don’t belong on my girl.
She told me how you tried to touch her, and she kicked you.
I think she’s trying to save me from myself by not telling me just how far you got.
Or maybe you didn’t. But the thing is you tried. So…”
I cut into him, slashing him across the face, then light along the neck. And finally, I stab the knife into his cock, making him unleash an ungodly scream, and he passes out.
“Should we?” Enzo asks.
“Fuck, yes.”
It takes us both to string him up and hang him until he dies, neck snapping as he comes to a little late to the party.
And I feel nothing.
We stand, looking up at the body of Thomas Allistair.
The man doesn’t have a family. Not really. And the clubs…well, someone will take them. The clean money we took, the rest is left as evidence.
He’ll be found here, and the post-mortem will get doctored to nothing more than guilty man dying by suicide.
I turn to a scared Joseph Walsh.
He’s chained up, and the best part is, we haven’t touched him. Not…physically, but he’s definitely pissed and shit himself, from the smell of him, as we tortured his friend. Beating him, cutting him, twisting his tiny dick to make him scream.
We had a long debate over cutting Thomas’s tongue out, but in the end, we settled on the music of his pleas and cries.
Theatrics, perhaps. But I needed it for what comes next.
As much as I want to hurt Joseph, a man who likes underage girls, not too young, but around sixteen, what he’s called, in one garbled confession, the first blush of womanhood.
He touched his daughter, the piece of shit.
That’s why she went after him. It wasn’t kinks of dressing up in women’s clothes or being led around in leather with a tail out his ass. He likes blood play, yes, but the kind of blood play is hurting the girls when he’s done with them.
He didn’t hurt his daughter he told us as he cried, and I punched him in the stomach for that.
“All your records, all the things you did are on tape. Thomas had them, which means I have them,” I say. “All the sick, vile things.”
“Did you know,” Enzo says, “that he kept records, so he’d know what to get for each member of the special men’s club? And secret video recordings of what you all did in those private rooms as potential blackmail fodder if he needed it?”
“It’s already out there that you’re involved in trafficking. Whispers. You can’t keep things like that at bay. And your wife knows. Now.” I can’t stand looking at him.
If Enzo and I didn’t have an end in mind for him, he’d be beaten and tortured to within an inch of his life.
But this is going to help nail the case and crack everything wide open. Bring down all the men involved. All of them.
So, this is going to be bigger than what Zayne can deal with, and I wouldn’t put The Syndicate at risk like that. Wouldn’t put him at risk.
Fuck, I wouldn’t have Enzo here if he hadn’t insisted. Mind you, I’d do the same.
I approach Joseph slowly, and he shrinks back against the wall.
“Please,” he says, whimpering, “don’t kill me. I’ll get help, I promise. I never meant to hurt Gianna. I love her.”
I snort as Enzo makes a growling noise. “Too much, you pervert. You touch your kid, then throw her to the wolves? Bullshit, you don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself.”
I crouch down in front of him, flicking open the bloody knife.
“Don’t,” he squeals.
“Scum like you? Doesn’t deserve to live.
But I’ll tell you what. We’ll give you a choice.
Die slow and painful here, or…write out a confession.
And make it good. I want everything. Names.
Addresses. Whoever and whatever you’ve dealt with to get the girls, the things the powerful and rich people you know are into and how we can take them down. ”
Enzo comes up with the pad and a new pen, “But the people, the names, the places we can find them. The crimes. We need those first, then the confession.”
I’m about to argue, but Enzo wants them separate, and I’m clocking to why.
The list stays with us. The confession goes to the media along with some choice filmic evidence, not anything to screw up a case, just something to solidify his true nature.
So, I wait until we get the list.
He thinks he’ll live.
He’s not going to.
I never finished his options. Death slow and painful, or death fast by his own hand.
When he hands over the list, I look it over. It matches stuff we found, names on Thomas’s list. But there are more, and as he starts his confession, Enzo and I tell him to include a couple of people on the list. Enough to get some balls rolling.
Confession done, he looks at us. “My life’s over now. My career, marriage gone. Are you going to let me go? I’ll turn myself in. I’ll—”
I backhand him. “Shut your mouth.”
Enzo unchains him but doesn’t uncuff his hands. Instead, we head out of the nondescript Syndicate place, and we drive to his offices in DUMBO. In the underground parking lot, we pull up and get out.
Once we reach his offices, I pull out the gun as Enzo releases him.
“I have security cameras—”
“Disabled.” I can barely look at the prick, but I make myself. “Did it earlier so you don’t have to worry about your death being on tape.”
He stares at us and starts to shake.
“My friend here never finished what he was offering you earlier,” Enzo says. “Die painfully and slowly by our hands or…”
I hold out the gun. “Kill yourself. The latter option is the best one, FYI.”
His eyes turn bleak as he considers fully the third option that we won’t ever let him have. There’s the slow death by our hands. A slower one in prison because he’ll be murdered. Horribly. Or by his own hand.
“I’ll take the gun,” he says dully.
Enzo takes it from me and puts it in his hand, and he guides it to Joseph’s temple.
I watch, and I don’t even flinch when he pulls the trigger, splattering the wall on the other side with brain matter, blood, shards of bone.
He slumps the gun falling as Enzo releases his soft hold on Joseph’s arm.
We don’t speak as we wipe down the place and clear it of any evidence of us being there.
Then we walk out.
Once we’re heading back to Queens to get Vi, my phone starts to buzz.
I plug it into the car’s speakers, and Zayne’s voice fills the car.
“Guys, I wanted to let you know Gino’s been taken care of.”
Enzo frowns. “He’s still my uncle, dirtbag. How, exactly?”
“Evidence may have been planted, and it might have been made clear to Gino that in order for that evidence to disappear, he should consider this the favor from you both, and any other debts need to be reasonable, something to be negotiated as in either party can say no to a request. Him to you and you to him. Or, you know, that evidence that might cause Gino a lot of harm and headaches might just reappear.”
Enzo groans, half laughing. “That’s not going to go down too well.”
“I don’t know,” Zayne says, “he asked after Violet, he had a sparkle in his eye. Maybe you’ve got competition, Cade.”
I laugh, but I’m slightly alarmed. “He’s married.”
“She’s a dragon, she keeps his balls in her purse.” Enzo flashes me a look. “I never said that.”
“Gino really doesn’t take kindly to the kind of smuggling Thomas did, and the kind of activities Joseph did.”
“I’ll believe this is over when it’s over,” I say, but I’m not worried. I have Violet back. That’s all that matters.
Enzo waits in the car while I go into the hospital. I assume he’s going to chat to Gino, but I don’t care.
I find Vi where I thought I might, outside of Gianna’s room. She’s half asleep in a chair, and I kiss her, helping her to her feet.
She doesn’t say anything until we get to the SUV and Enzo takes one look at us. “I think I’ll stay and keep an eye on Gianna and her mother, just in case there’s anyone skulking about.”
I roll my eyes. Hiding from the wrath of Gino no doubt. But I nod, and he goes in. At the car door, Violet stops and touches my throat.
“Blood?”
“Not mine.”
“So, you’re okay?” she asks.
“I’m fine. Joseph is not. He’ll never hurt anyone again, though.”
She hugs me tight. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
I slide my arms around her and kiss her hungrily, forcing myself to back off and make the kiss softer. Then I raise my head. “I promise I’ll always be here to take care of you. I’ll protect you from everything bad because I love you.”
She smiles. “I love you, too. Can we go home? I’m so tired, and I really, really want to curl up and fall asleep with you.”
I slowly grin at her. “Sure, we can. But you’re absolutely batshit crazy if you think you’re getting any sleep tonight…”