Chapter 8
EIGHT
GINO
JUNE
It’s been three weeks since Mateo was kidnapped, and I’ve never been one to be outwardly violent, but this situation is testing my patience.
I’m in one of the warehouses with a man tied to a chair. He’s tied to the Russos; that much I know for certain. How Russo has men in the city we were unaware of is beyond me.
The man shows no fear.
“What’s your association with the Russos?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond, which I was expecting.
Ryan is standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed, waiting for me to give him an order.
“I asked you a question.”
The man huffs out a laugh. “I ain’t telling you shit.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “We’ll sit here all day if that’s what it takes.”
I look back at Ryan, who still stands there, almost looking bored.
“My man here wants a crack at you, but I wanted to see if you would be forthcoming first.”
For a few minutes, we stare at each other, neither wanting to crack.
“Your name is Jamie. You live on 33rd Street with your wife and three kids. Is that correct?”
He doesn’t respond, but I can tell by the flicker in his eye that I’m right.
I would never hurt women or children, and I really don’t want to hurt this guy, but I need to show some force around here.
“We had our tech guy do some digging. You’ve had some form of association with the Russos since you were a teenager. But you haven’t had to do much outside of managing a property or two, so tell me, have the Russos given you any new orders?”
Nothing. He doesn’t say a goddamn word. And I’m getting frustrated.
I turn to Ryan, thinking we might just let him go; he knows nothing. But before I get the words out, Jamie speaks.
“You’re just a piece of shit, and I hope you never find your man,” he spits out.
And that’s when I lose it.
I stalk up to him painfully slow and land a sharp blow to his jaw.
He laughs in response, so I punch again. I keep the amount of force necessary until I feel a hand on my shoulder, yanking me back.
“Let me go,” I yell.
“No,” Ryan’s voice cuts in.
He pulls me back until we’re against the wall. He turns me around and slams me against it.
“Gino, don't become your father. We both know you’ll regret it.”
He grips my shirt and leans down slightly to look me in the eyes. He is much taller than all of us at six-foot-six. He doesn’t let me go, and we just stare at each other in a standoff.
“I’m not going to become my father,” I grit out.
“At this moment you are. Let me handle him; don't do this to yourself. Juliet and Vanessa would hate you if they found out this is what you were doing.”
He’s right, I know he is. Juliet and my sister would probably hate me or never forgive me if they saw me acting like this.
“Gino, you have to promise me if I let you go, you will not go over there and attack him.”
I put my hands up in surrender.
“I won’t.”
He lets me go.
“Don’t move.” He turns and walks to Jamie in the chair.
He’s far enough away that I can’t hear what he’s saying, but he’s getting something from him clearly. I look down at my hands and see the blood on them. I lean my head back, hitting it against the concrete wall behind me.
If Mateo were here, he would be chewing my ass out, telling me how terrible of an idea this is.
He would compare me to my father and use examples of when we were kids, and my father and his men would torture men for hours to get the answer they wanted.
We agreed we would never be like them, never act like them.
But here we are; he’s been kidnapped, and I’m turning into my father.
Then there’s my sister. She would also be chewing me out for this.
Mateo doesn’t keep secrets from her; he doesn’t show her his work all the time because he’s a lawyer, and legally, some things he just can’t tell or show anyone.
But he tells her everything he can. He’s always putting her first. He pushed back incredibly hard when I made the call to send him to Italy.
He had his reservations, and I realize he was right to do so.
My sister made her feelings known, and she was right too.
Hell, everyone in this group has given me their opinions, and they were right, and I was wrong.
They’ve been telling me for years that I don’t have to do this on my own, and that I can go to them to make decisions.
I think it’s time I start listening to them.
When I’m finally done with my internal chastising of myself, I lift my head.
Ryan is walking Jamie out of the room. I stay frozen, knowing he thinks this man has nothing.
Which, to be honest, he probably doesn’t.
The Russos don’t have a large presence in the States.
The men they have here are focused on their properties; they probably don’t know much about their criminal activity.
I watch Ryan walk back into the room and look at me. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks at me with frustration and understanding.
He starts talking. “I get it, we all want him back. But this is not the way to do it. We know the men they have here are not their enforcers; they’re transactional people.
He had no idea about Mateo until we told him.
This isn’t the time to get impulsive; we need to have level heads at everything we do. ”
I swallow.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, and I follow.
We make the quiet drive back to my house, and the entire time, I think about how I’m going to explain this blood to Juliet.