Chapter 34 #2
I move to the stairs, motioning for Maverick to follow. Like a phantom, I make my way to their bedroom, completely quiet. Pressing my ear to the door, I nod when I hear nothing.
I turn the knob, opening the door enough for us to slip inside the dark room.
Two figures are in the bed, seemingly sleeping. I stalk closer, needing to be sure it’s both of them. It is, so I nod to Maverick.
It's so weird to see them in the same bed. Shaking my head to clear it, I aim right for my father’s head. I cock the hammer, which wakes him—dammit!
He bolts upright, eyes wide. “What is this? Son? What the hell is going on?”
I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “It’s time to go to hell, Father,” I practically sing.
“Security!” my father screams at the top of his lungs.
Laughing, I happily inform him there’s no one to help.
My mother stirs. “What are you doing?” she says with a tremor in her voice, eyes filling with fake-ass tears.
I look at her. “You have a choice right now. Come with me and live, or stay with him, and die.”
She flounders, her panic increasing with each second.
“Make your choice, Mother,” I tell her one last time.
Her gaze flits between me and my father, stumbling over her words. “I can't... it’s not that simple. How am I supposed to choose?”
While she’s stammering, she’s clinging to my father, who pulls her closer. It's clear to me she isn’t going to choose me. I'm not surprised. Sad and disappointed, yes.
“Why, Father? Why did you take Phoenyxx? She was just a child! The things you did to her... you are a sick, sack-of-shit pedophile!” My voice raises with each word.
My father has the audacity to laugh. “Because I could. She enamored me. She was a beautiful child. She was also a threat to all the families as an heir. She would have taken it all from us. The Rossi family was always going to be on top.”
My eyes blow wide. “I can’t even...” A shudder rolls through me. I look back to my mother. “Did you know?”
Her shoulders shake as she cries.
"You're just as bad as him."
Turning away from her, my hate pushes me to the breaking point.
A deafening roar fills the room as I go straight for my father, getting my hands around his throat.
My mother is screaming bloody murder.
It's so loud, I don’t notice a sound until it’s too late.
My head cranks around, seeing that Mav is missing from his spot. I don’t even register the security guy standing in the doorway, his gun aimed right at me.
The sound of the shot reverberates through the bedroom. It hits the mark— me.
I drop like a stone, breathing labored as I try to squeeze air into my lungs. I look down, and see my chest covered with blood. There's so much of it.
I desperately prod around the area. It probably missed my lung, and no major arteries were hit. Gritting my teeth, I shrug off my shirt, balling it to the wound.
My hearing comes back right when Mav shows up, rushing right to me. His eyes are frantic. “Are you okay?”
All I can do is nod. “I have to finish this,” I mask every emotion, needing this fucking done. I put the physical pain of being shot into the back of my mind.
Maverick squeezes my shoulder gently, not moving from his spot next to me.
I’m done; and now, so are they.
“This is for Phoenyxx, and for me, you fucking bastard.” I spit at my father, then aim my gun. One in my father’s head, the other in my mother’s.
I step back, almost dropping the gun.
Shock zips all through me, and my legs buckle. Mav catches me, helping me to stay on my feet.
I stare at my parents’ dead bodies, in disbelief that I FINALLY took that fucker down. My father, the infamous head of the Franco family. I never thought I’d truly escape him. Stupid tears well in my eyes, as all the emotions I had held back rush forward.
I choke back sobs, nausea burning a hole in my gut. The injury plus this is too much for me. I see stars; blacking out a very real possibility.
“I’ve got you.” Maverick tells me, helping me to walk. “Let’s move.”
I follow him back outside, looking and listening for any trouble. It's still clear, so we head back to the waiting car with Trav, who pulled up closer to the house.
I look back one last time at the home I grew up in, and spit on the ground.
Maverick and I jump back in the car, Mav getting in the back with me to put pressure on the wound.
“He okay?” Trav asks Mav.
“He will be. It's not life-threatening. But we need to get back as fast as possible.”
I drown the rest out, letting my eyes slip closed. My last thought before losing consciousness is that it's over. The bastard is finally dead.
Purge
The car I’m in gets close to my family home.
My head is on a swivel, looking out for my father’s guards.
I frown; it’s almost too quiet.
The way my house is designed, the street isn’t viewable beyond the yard. Which works perfectly for us.
My eyes scan the tops of the buildings and around the house, knowing the patterns the guards have. There's nothing—no movement at all.
I look at Blade, one of the ZYGOS guys with me, who says, “Taken care of.”
Good.
We exit the car, and move along the side of the house, winding around to the front door.
My comm kicks on, and Jax’s voice comes through. “Security is dealt with. Cams are on a loop, and the door is unlocked.”
My lips tighten, and my balls threaten to draw up. I'm nervous as hell. This is so huge. From what I understand, no son has easily taken out their father in the bratva.
We get inside with no issue.
My gun is ready to go, held at the ready.
Blade walks behind me as I go to my father’s bedroom. I'm not sure if my mother is even there. They normally keep separate rooms.
I hold my breath as I open the door, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. Two bodies are in bed.
Yes! The upper hand feels damn good.
Aiming, I have to laugh out loud. The sound wakes them both.
My father jumps out of bed, reaching for the piece he normally keeps next to him. I scoot over, grabbing it the same time he does.
“What is the meaning of this?” my father bellows.
I don’t answer, I just punch him in the face.
He bellows, rising from the bed to tackle me to the floor. We trade swings, beating the shit pout of each other. I'm glad Blade isn’t intervening.
I grab the back of my father’s head to slam it into the floor, when something crashes down on the back of my neck, knocking me sideways.
My mother is brandishing the bedside lamp, and she squeaks, “No, don’t kill him, please. I love him. Please, son!”
I ignore her, hitting her with a hard glare, swiping the lamp from her hands.
“Your reign of terror is over, you sick fuck. Suka piska,” I snarl at my father.
His mouth opens, and his eyes harden. “You don’t have the balls, boy. You'll never walk out of here alive.”
Ignoring that comment, I press forward. “Why the fuck did you torture all those innocent people at The Retreat? What did you gain from it?”
“Power and money. I plan to take over the entirety of the mafia. Not just bratva, but every faction.”
He uses present tense. What a delusional fuck.
I address my mother. “Did you know?”
“Son, it’s complicated,” she starts, but nope, I’m all the way done.
My inner demon roars, and the need to Rage Out pulses through me.
I cock my head and aim right for the asshole’s brain. I fire twice, just to be sure. His body slumps down, and my mother screams. I don’t say a word as I put two in her skull.
I stand back, just observing for a moment.
The piece of shit that controlled me, ran The Retreat, and did all the sick shit to the patients, is fucking gone. GONE. My chest puffs out with pride.
I roll my eyes at my mother’s body. I feel nothing for her except contempt.
I take a deep breath, and turn on my heel to leave.
“Burn in hell,” I whisper viciously, on my way out.
Ghost
My mouth waters in anticipation. This is going to feel so fucking good. Payback is a bitch.
The ZYGOS guys with me say nothing as we get close to the house. They murmur into their comms, and one glances back at me . “All security is dealt with. You have a clear path.”
I hop out of the car. “Wait!” the guy driving hisses, but I’m already moving. I didn’t even bother to get their names.
I grip the gun in my right hand, and a wicked blade in the left.
I burst right through the front door, stomping up the stairs. I'm not even trying to stay quiet. Those assholes sleep like the dead, anyway.
Getting to my father’s bedroom, I turn the handle and slip inside.
My father’s enormous bed rises like a monster from the center of the room on a raised dais. Two lumps lie there.
Tossing the blade in my hand, I thumb off the safety of the gun. Before I even wake them, I allow my creature out.
Whistling, I approach the bed.
“Wake up, you piece of shit,” I hiss, smacking my father in the face hard.
“What? Son? Why are you here—and with a gun!” he bellows.
“You surely aren’t that stupid,” I laugh. “You know it’s time to pay the piper.”
My mother wakes up, blinking at me. “Oh. I knew this was coming.” She turns to my father, and to my surprise, spits right in his face. “I hope you burn in hell.”
She gets up, moving to my side.
“Mother? Are you coming with me, then?” I ask for clarity.
“Yes ,” she strokes a hand down my cheek. “No real mother could ever choose otherwise.”
I stumble a bit over my words. “Go. Head outside to the car waiting. You don’t want to see this.”
I hit the speaker on my comm, relaying the development to everyone.
My mother scurries out, leaving me alone with my father.
He’s frozen in place, mouth gaping like a fish out of water.
I step all the way up, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back. Humming, I slowly draw the blade across his throat. Deep, but not enough to kill him yet.
He lets out a cry, fueling my monster more. My knife moves to his cock, and he stills.
“Turn over, on your knees. Clothes off. Now!” I bark.
He tries to talk, but I slice the knife close to him in warning. He scrambles to comply, stripping off his pajamas with shaky hands, and waves his hairy ass in the air.