Chapter 10 #2
Francesco cocked his head and smirked. “My pleasure. You are aiding me in getting rid of a dirty organization. One that was trying to compete with me. We intend to send a very clear message about what happens to people who fuck with the Family.”
I turned to head back to my bike but stopped when he spoke again.
“Feel free to make Tommaso and Elio suffer as long as possible. After King takes care of the office building, he and his guys will be watching your backs at the house. When you’re done, just leave everything behind. My cleaners will take care of it.”
Damn, I seriously owed Francesco. And I had no doubt he’d eventually call in his chips.
When everyone had their orders, a few of our men left to help King while Maverick, Hunter, Racer, and I drove to a house a few streets over from our destination. Felicia and Donovan, a couple in Francesco’s organization, lived there and hid our bikes in a shed in their backyard.
It would have been easier to wait for darkness, but after we’d been there about twenty minutes, Donovan came out back to tell us that Tommaso was ten minutes away.
Night made things easier, but it really didn’t matter what time it was. We knew how to remain unnoticed. We split up across the street and took different routes to approach the house.
Deviant had provided the blueprints so we’d be familiar with the layout to avoid surprises. His best guess was that Marylin was either being held in the basement or the attic.
I crept up to the back door and glanced at Maverick. I was torn over saving my woman’s mother and making the men responsible pay.
He narrowed his eyes and tapped my temple before whispering, “I’ll get Marylin.”
There was a bond between brothers, one that was stronger than the ties of blood.
And it meant that we knew each other in a way that outsiders never would.
Maverick had known me for a long time, and after I patched, he’d seen the rage that lurked in my soul.
It came out when we brought someone to The Room.
I let it take over because punishing our enemies seemed to be the only time I had any peace.
I couldn’t take out the bastards who shot me and had killed so many people, including the hostage I was trying to save.
But I could make others suffer in their stead.
Maverick knew what I hadn’t wanted to admit.
I had to be the one to deal with Tommaso and Elio, or the darkness inside me would fester and consume me.
I was afraid that even Britta wouldn’t be able to pull me back.
Wiping out the threat to her would be the equivalent of saving those hostages and maybe it would douse the constant fury burning inside me.
The back door was the entrance to a small, dingy kitchen that clearly hadn’t been cleaned in a very long time.
If that was where they’d been feeding Marylin from, we’d be lucky if she wasn’t sick.
Maverick and Hunter split up, one going for a door that led to the basement and disappearing down the steps.
The other paused at the door to a hallway where the stairs went up to the attic.
The hallway was short and could be seen from most of the living room, so we had to wait for Elio to be distracted before Maverick could go for the stairs.
After what seemed like hours but was really only a few minutes, I heard creaking from the wooden board used to build the front porch. Elio walked over to open the door, and Maverick slipped up the stairs.
Racer and I drew our guns, holding them so that we were each trained on one of the men. When we heard the front door close, we moved through the hall into the living room.
“Hate to interrupt this little father and son reunion,” Racer drawled, making both men whirl in our direction.
They went for their weapons but froze when I put a bullet in the ground right between Elio’s legs. “I wouldn’t do that, asshole. You wouldn’t even be able to pull your gun before I blew your fucking head off.”
“Sounds like fun,” Racer said with a snicker. “Do you think they’d explode like pumpkins?”
I grinned, feeling a little of my wisecracking personality returning. “Watermelons,” I quipped, making him chuckle. “But we’ll have to test the theory another time. These two don’t deserve a quick death.”
“True.”
Tommaso snorted in derision. “If your intent is to kill us, why are we just standing here?” He sounded bored, and my trigger finger twitched. “Waiting for someone else to come along and save your asses?”
“Nah,” Maverick drawled from the doorway behind us. “These two are the most bloodthirsty out of all of us. They were just stalling so there was no risk to Marylin while we took her outta here.”
Tommaso’s face turned red and blotchy as he took a step forward. His hand swung toward his back, but he didn’t get any farther before he screamed like a little girl, whipping his hand up to see a hole in his palm where my shot had gone straight through. “I warned you,” I said with a shrug.
Elio sputtered curses but didn’t make a move.
“Clear?” I asked Maverick.
“Yep. I’ll be outside if you need anything. Oh, wait, the walls are soundproof…too bad we won’t be able to hear their screams. Lucky Hunter, he brought a bag of toys for you.”
I chuckled as I watched the color drain from Tommaso and Elio’s faces.
Maverick’s footsteps faded behind us as another set walked in, and a second later, Hunter dropped a duffel bag on the floor and plopped down onto the couch.
“Get rid of your weapons,” I ordered.
Both men hesitated, and I cocked my gun, the sound seeming louder because of the dead silence in the room. Most guns didn’t cock anymore, but I specifically carried one that did because I got a kick out of moments like this. The simple click could scare the piss out of some people.
Father and son emptied their holsters and pockets, tossing guns, knives, and other interesting items to Hunter. He put them in a bag and threw it into the fireplace. A specific instruction we’d been given from Francesco.
Several hours later, we took our toys into the kitchen to wipe off all the blood, leaving two mangled corpses behind.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I grumbled. With Tommaso, Elio, and their associates out of the way, all I could think about was having Britta in my arms again.
We parted ways with King and his guys, then retrieved our bikes. Maverick met us at the apartment with an SUV. Our motorcycles would be transported home another way because we were driving with Marylin.
When we were an hour from Old Bridge, my cell beeped, and I looked to see that I’d received a text with links to several articles in the Chicago news.
One about an accident in a high-rise in Chicago.
Apparently, the carbon monoxide detectors had malfunctioned, and everyone on the top five floors had died from overexposure.
Interestingly, no other floors seemed to be affected.
There was also a report of a house fire at an address belonging to P.
Truitt. The fire investigators pinpointed the fireplace as the point of origin, saying that the occupants had clearly been careless, leaving loaded weapons near the flames that eventually exploded, burning the house to nothing but ashes.
I didn’t bother to look for incidents at all the other locations we’d been involved in destroying.
The only thing I cared about was getting home to my woman.