Chapter 33 #2
“Devil isn’t the mafia,” I groan, rubbing my sore eyes. I don’t even know why he’s talking. I don’t give a shit about any of this.
“Devil was built off the mafia. They owe everything to the Morettis.”
“They’re not Italian,” I object.
Dad clicks his tongue. “They’re not made men, sure. That doesn’t mean they didn’t work for the mafia. They just didn’t get any of the privileges. They couldn’t hope to become leaders one day. And they were bloodthirsty for power.”
Not as bloodthirsty as you are. “Bet they wouldn’t betray their own kids for power,” I say bitterly.
Dad scoffs. “What do you call handing over the child you’ve raised to some random stranger? I guess you think Logan Colt can do no wrong. So why the fuck did he pawn off his own stepdaughter?”
“He… he didn’t pawn… he was trying to protect her…”
“Bullshit. He was trying to protect Devil. He was trying to protect Damien. The only person he’s ever cared about. Nothing else matters but Damien. Sure, he’s doing his very best for her, but if push came to shove and Damien ordered it, he’d put a bullet in that girl’s head.”
I close my eyes, feeling sick at the thought that the one ally I’d counted on is even weaker than I am.
Then I notice that Josh’s stirring in the backseat has gotten just a little more pronounced.
One glance in the rearview window tells me he’s awake, and faking it.
I’m not sure playing dead will get him out of this.
But I’m relieved—and confused to realize just how relieved I am—that he’s not too injured.
“Logan does care some, though,” continues my dad, still so smugly caught up in his own story that he doesn’t notice the movement in the backseat.
“He cares enough that it caught my attention, and I’ve been watching him for months.
I guess he realized Coltello and Moretti’s men represented a rising threat, and he went out of his way to keep Damien in the dark. Why do you think that, huh?”
“I literally don’t give a fuck,” I growl.
But my dad doesn’t let my lack of enthusiasm put a damper on his. I’ve never seen him so fucking happy. Like he’s just won the lottery or something.
“Well, I started to wonder why Logan was exerting himself so much to keep Damien from realizing what was going on. Not that it was hard. I’ve never known Damien to be an idiot, but ever since Seraphina Connor came into his life, he’s turned into a hormonal pre-teen mess.
You should have seen him back in the mafia days.
Everyone in town knew Damien Wells. He had an aura.
He was everywhere, knew everything. The mere mention of his name made people piss their pants.
Now he’s literally falling to pieces over a girl. Fucking pathetic, huh?”
I shrug, because if that’s pathetic, I don’t even want to know what Dad would call me.
“Anyway, it got me wondering why. Why does Logan care so fucking much about Damien not finding out about the mafia threat? Shouldn’t it be the opposite?
Shouldn’t he realize that keeping that information from him would give the mafia time to get stronger?
What the fuck is his game? That’s when I started to put two and two together.
I gave the soldiers a few contracts. No one would think twice about it.
The Devil founders would certainly not look into it.
Don’t think they’ve directly given out a contract in their lives. ”
I turn my head slowly, my temples throbbing. “What… what the fuck do you mean?”
“The shit they handle directly, they pay subcontractors to do. Subcontractors like Angel, though that was an error in judgment. That’s a different matter, though. Quill, you once told me soldiers were nothing more than toilet scrubbers. And you were right.”
I blink in confusion.
“It’s housekeeping,” continues Dad. “That’s what it is.
The founders trust the rest of us to keep shit moving.
Keep little messes from turning into slightly bigger messes.
They don’t even know who their soldiers are killing, or why.
They don’t care. It’s the giants, looking down on the anthill. Who fucking cares?”
“So why did you care?” I hiss out. “Why did it matter so much to you that I become a soldier? That I kill people for a living? Why did you force your son into that path?”
“It allowed me to get closer to Tragen,” says Dad smoothly.
“To understand the inner workings of the soldiers. To hand out untraceable contracts. Initially, none of it was about Logan or the girl. It was about power. The Soldier Army deserved a lot better than being put to use as glorified toilet scrubbers. If the Devil Founders weren’t going to be using them to their full potential, then I would.
And I did. Which became especially useful a few months ago. ”
I frown at him, confusion getting the better of my seething anger.
“That was when I noticed the shift with Logan. I needed to understand why he cared so much,” explains Dad. “What better way to do that than to have a few soldiers stick guns into judges’ and lawyers’ faces, getting the answers I needed, before killing them?”
“Soldiers don’t ask questions,” I grit out.
“You’re right. They don’t. They can repeat them, though.”
I shake my head. “We don’t talk. We never talk.”
“Soldiers, as you should know, Quill,” drawls Dad, “do what they’re told. Or rather, what Tragen tells them. And Tragen had been telling them an awful lot.”
“Why?” I growl, cringing at the sound of the name of the man who had, right until the very end, been a far better father than my own. Though the bar is certainly set very low.
“Tragen was acting on my orders. Which isn’t unusual, since I’m one of his higher-ups. What is unusual, though, is that he started acting practically only on my orders.”
“Why?” I ask again.
“Money,” says Dad simply. “So long as I was lining his pockets, he was perfectly happy to go along, giving me all the information I needed, without having any clue as to why. That’s what led me to realizing, first, that the reason Logan was so worked up was that little Aurora Moretti, his stepdaughter, wasn’t dead.
It wasn’t till later that I figured out her identity.
Just a few weeks ago, in fact. Aurora Moretti was none other than Piper Day, the ugly chick my son was banging all throughout senior year of high school. ”
I see white at his cruel words. The gun is still in my hands, and if it were anyone else speaking those words, they’d already be dead. But I don’t shoot. I can’t.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Here I’d been so focused on breaking the two of you up. And breathing in relief when she moved across the country. When really, I should have been doing the opposite. Trapping her in Astley. The minute I heard she was back, I gave Dane and Liam the contract to kill her parents.”
I’m so shocked by that last revelation that I don’t even try to work through the rest of what he’s just said. “They… they shot her parents? Dane and Liam?”
“Yep. Her dad was so excited to have found that stupid paper with Piper’s name on my desk.
I intercepted a letter of Logan’s about discreetly paying off her college debt.
I had stupidly written her name on top and left the letter lying on my desk.
So I guess William Day was bound to find it.
You can just imagine how excited that made the idiot.
Of course, although he knew she was adopted, he had no clue Logan was her stepfather.
I had to make up some stupid story on the spot, about how Logan wanted to sponsor promising alumni from Astley High, or some bullshit like that.
Then, to really make sure that sucker shut up, I promised him a promotion.
Little did he know, he was already dead. ”
I stare at Dad, still stuck on the earlier piece of information. “Dane… and Liam? They killed Piper’s parents?”
“Fucking hell, boy,” thunders Dad. “Are you a complete idiot? They’re soldiers.
They did a job. Big fucking deal. After he found that paper, William Day became a risk.
He and Laura probably would have bit the dust anyway, though, because I needed a way to make sure Piper stuck around for a while.
Long enough to get her to Coltello. He wants to kill her himself.
He learned how important that was from watching Devil fuck up this past year with Angel.
Don’t trust the important shit to the subcontractors.
” Dad puffs up his chest. “But I’m the guy bringing Coltello the prize.
When she’s dead, the Moretti claim will be too.
Only Devil will stand in the way, and I’m bringing Coltello their best soldier. Not bad, eh?”
He speaks the words distractedly, but my heart clings to that hope. “You’re bringing me to Coltello,” I repeat.
“Don’t get any big ideas,” he says, side-eying me. “You won’t be able to do a thing to save her. She’ll be dead the minute Coltello gets to her.”
My hands squeeze around my knees. I feel like I’m going to pass out. How much time do we have?
“Where is Coltello?” I ask urgently. “Where are you bringing me?”
“Well, I’m not bringing you to where he is, that’s for sure.
” Dad clicks his tongue in annoyance, “since he makes sure no one knows his whereabouts. Not even those most loyal to him. He’s very careful about that, because it’s his only protection.
He wouldn’t stand a chance if he faced off against Devil head-on.
He’s not strong enough for the moment. Still, if he hadn’t taken so goddamn long to move his ass last time, when his crew brought her to that cave, the bloodbath wouldn’t have happened.
Aurora Moretti would be dead, and I’d be his righthand man by now.
Now, I have to start the fucking process all over again.
Find the girl, kidnap her, bring her to some designated place that it will probably take him two fucking days to get to or whatever… fucking repetitive bullshit.”