Chapter 65: Chapter Ten

Andrei

“They have more guards out today,” Chase said in a bored voice.

The iron gate that led to where she used to live was locked up tight. Two men in suits stood behind the gate.

“You got in the first time.” I nodded to the gate. “What did you do? Just waltz in and say I’m Chase fucking Abandonato?”

“Something like that.” Chase held his Glock close to his face. “It was either shoot them all on sight, including the dirty girl, or make a trade.

“She was already half dead, but you know how Phoenix is. With his past, he can’t—”

“I know.” I wanted him to stop talking about it. My past and Phoenix’s past were too identical for words.

Both of us were raised by complete monsters who took joy in hurting women, only Phoenix was forced to break those women.

While I was forced to watch while my father did the honors.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Watch, son,” Alexander Petrov was a big man, the way he held the girl down, a girl who looked at me like I was her only saving grace when I was thinking of shooting her so she didn’t have to endure any longer while he fondled her breasts and laughed.

Bile rose in my throat.

His hands on her skin.

Her eyes locking on mine, practically begging for death.

I pulled out my gun and fired two shots into her head.

I made it quick.

Blood splattered all over the small room, and my father jumped to his feet. “Son of a bitch! I was enjoying her!”

“You were suffocating her,” I said in a cold voice. “And yesterday her tests came back positive for syphilis. You want in on that, or are you gonna say well done?”

He shuddered. “Syphilis, you say?”

“And God knows what else, she was a prostitute.” I’d alter the records later, wouldn’t be the first time.

His eyes flashed with an unholy gleam. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud to call you son.”

I gave him the dutiful smile I always did while I mentally wrapped my hands around his neck and strangled him.

Him… I would kill slowly.

“Hey!” Chase smacked me in the shoulder. “You still with me?”

“Let me go in alone.”

“The hell I am.” Chase was already grabbing more ammo and strapping it to his chest. His sleeved tattoos gave him away to anyone who knew about the man they now called the executioner.

The right hand of the Abandonato Family and the Capo.

Last year someone shit himself, literally, when Chase got out of his car.

It was one of the best days of my life since joining forces with the ridiculous Italians and being forced to kill with them as well as eat at their table.

“Please.” It was a word I rarely uttered. A word so rare that tangible silence crackled in the air with awareness that I wouldn’t utter it again, not to an Italian, especially not to Chase.

“I counted an additional six men last time, not including two De Lange captains, and you want to go in there and just, what? Ask for a meeting?”

I smirked, already opening the car door. “You forget, I’m Russian.”

“And?”

“And my balls are bigger.” I shrugged, earning a glare from him. “They think I’m their friend, they think I play both sides and that my loyalty is only to myself.”

“Good, because that’s all true, you jackass.” Chase shook his head slowly. “Just try not to die. It will completely ruin my good mood, yeah?”

“You? Good mood?” I snorted.

“Be quick about it.”

“If you’re so worried, time me.” I winked.

“Record’s four minutes, Phoenix won’t be happy to see someone take the title from him.”

“Ready?” Chase held up his Rolex.

“Set.” I cocked my gun.

“Shit.” Chase muttered as I walked up to the com and pressed the button.

“Yes?”

“Andrei Petrov, I have business with the family.”

“You’re not expected.”

I smiled at his idiocy. “That’s kind of the point, let me in.”

The gate buzzed.

It was too easy when people thought you weren’t the enemy.

It was easy when you made them think you were their friend.

I was good at that, being what I needed to be to anyone and everyone. I was a true chameleon and I knew that’s why Chase and the rest of the bosses didn’t trust me.

Because they knew I could and would play them.

I was with them until they were against me; at least that’s what I told myself. As long as Luca Nicolasi roamed this earth, I’d taken an oath.

And I’d see it through.

As I sauntered right onto De Lange property, the two men inside the gate approached me.

I had a bullet in each of their foreheads before they could utter one word. Another man opened the door and pointed his gun at me.

Idiot.

No wonder the De Langes were getting killed off so easily, he didn’t even use the door to hide behind, just ran out into the fucking sunshine waving his gun like a jackass.

He fell against the doorframe and slumped to the ground. Sighing, I lifted my gun and stepped over his large body and into the house.

Come out, come out wherever you are.

Blood rushed through my body, pulsed, pumped like I was high on the best drug. I could see clearer, smell better, I could sense everything around me like I’d just taken a hit of heroin.

I saw movement in my peripheral vision and shot down the hall. Voices shouted.

There were at least a few more men—that I knew. The De Langes weren’t known for having many men at their homes; it was too easy for us to pick them off.

Which meant…

“What do you want?” a voice yelled.

“Surrender, and I’ll tell you.”

“We don’t surrender.”

“I’m Russian. I’m afraid I don’t care,” I said in a lethal voice. “I give no mercy, I torture for sport, and I’m seconds away from blowing up the entire house.

A man moved into the hall, gun in his hand, holding it high in the air. “What the hell do you want?

“We made a trade, gave you the girl, and were told we’d be left alone for a few more days so we could regroup. I think that’s what you call… grace? Artful warfare?”

“I don’t give a fuck what they call it. I don’t know the meaning of the word mercy.” The guy froze. “One question, and if you answer correctly, I’ll let you live.”

He gulped.

“The other night, the girl you sent to me to sell. Who is she to you?”

His grin turned lethal. “Why? She not performing well enough for the members of your club?”

I shrugged. “I only care that I get paid, and she’s been… difficult. I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t holding a candle for someone and plotting her escape.

He narrowed his eyes at me. I could see the relation—similar dark hair, similar skin tone. It was him. I just needed him to say it.

“I’m her brother.”

I grinned and lowered my gun. “Good answer.”

I had maybe one minute before Chase came storming in, gun raised, shooting anything that moved.

“Come here.” I tossed my gun to the floor, barely registering the thud it made against the hardwood.

He sighed in relief and walked right up to me.

I grinned.

“What?” He frowned. “What’s funny?”

“You,” I licked my lips. “Hand me your knife, the one you’re hiding in your left hand. Now.”

He cursed and handed over the silver knife.

“Stick your tongue out.” I gritted my teeth as anger pulsed through my body, murder, monster, savior, saint. I had no idea what I was.

Maybe I was finally losing my grip on reality.

He laughed. “My tongue? No. I don’t think so.”

I held the point of the knife to his jugular and pressed the blade against his skin. “Open your fucking mouth. Now.”

Shaking, he parted his lips.

I grabbed his tongue with my right hand, gripping, twisting, and then I sawed it off with his own knife.

Blood spewed from his mouth as he screamed and fell to his knees in front of me.

I tossed the tip of his tongue just as Chase walked in, gun raised.

“Son of a bitch, Andrei, could you stop doing weird shit?”

“Sorry.” I wasn’t, sorry that was. “His voice was annoying me.”

“He’s no use to us if he doesn’t talk.” Chase pointed out.

“There’s ways to get him to talk. After all, he still has his hands.” On second thought, I tilted my head as his right hand was pressed against his mouth.

I picked up my discarded gun and fired a shot into his left hand.

“He’s right-handed, and we have time, maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll learn sign language.”

“Crazy Russian.” Chase seemed both offended and pleased. “I’ll call for some clean up, we’ll take him to the club for questioning.”

That’s what I was afraid of.

That he would confess that the girl they were keeping was his own sister, that she was a De Lange, a walking abomination to our family.

To Chase especially.

I knelt down, picked up the tongue, and stuffed it in my pocket while Chase grabbed his cell, cursing into it like it was the first time he’d seen me do something crazy, which it wasn’t.

Suffering, I knew well.

Killing was too easy.

While Chase was on the phone, I leaned over and kissed six thirty-two’s brother on the forehead and whispered.

He whimpered.

I patted his cheek. “Good talk.”

“Yeah, no he did it in…” Chase checked his watch. “Three minutes forty-seven seconds. Yeah, yeah, I’ll give you proof.

“No, Nixon just shot off his hand, cut out his tongue... I’m never eating tacos again, thanks for that visual.” He clenched his teeth and then nodded to me. “Nixon wants him alive.”

“He’s alive.” I shrugged.

Chase just stared at me like I was losing it.

“What?” I wiped my gloves on my pants and shoved the guy’s knife into my pocket.

“I got this.” Chase hung up the phone. “Take the car and go get cleaned up. The guys and I will figure all this shit out and head over to the club tonight for drinks and torture.”

The brother whimpered.

I gave him a cruel smile. “Good, we just purchased some new cat tail whips, can’t wait to see how much flesh we can pull from his back before he talks.”

“Crazy bastard.” Chase shook his head at me. “Do you just come up with this shit on your own or do you Google ways to peel flesh off people’s skin without killing them?”

“Google...” I slapped him on the back. “…is your friend.”

“Google, he says, as his name tops every list in the FBI.”

“Hey, they love me over there. I almost gave them you guys.” I laughed. “They can’t touch me, and now they can’t touch you. You’re welcome.”

“You’re an annoying little shit.”

“I’m only five years younger than you, and a lot more…” I tilted my head at him and lowered my eyes. “Endowed.”

“I may kill you in your sleep one day, just thought you should know.”

I shrugged. “I may just let you so you can put me out of my misery.”

It slipped.

Chase’s smile fell.

“Leave it,” I snapped and walked out of the house with a knife in one pocket and her brother’s tongue in the other.