by Zavi James
"Call Mia," Luc ordered me. "Tell her we won’t be home for dinner. Tell her Franco doesn’t leave until we get back. Are you good to drive?"
I nodded my head and pulled out my phone and keys. Mia wouldn’t blame me, but I felt ashamed that I’d let her down.
“Dante?” she answered the phone. She sounded so worried that it broke my heart. “Are you and Luc okay?”
“We’re fine,” I told her, ignoring the small lump in my throat. “Don’t wait for us. We’ll be home late. Keep Franco with you until we get back.”
“Okay,” Mia said quietly. “Dante.” I put the phone back to my ear. “Come home with Luc. I’ll keep a plate warm for you.”
The lump grew and I swallowed it. “Thanks, boss. We’ll see you later.”
After helping Luc get Angelo into the back of the car, I slipped into the driver's seat. It didn't take us long to arrive at the warehouses where our supplies were securely stored.
Angelo attempted to scarper the moment we pulled him from the car, but the ensuing scuffle tired him out and we wrestled him into the warehouse, barely glancing at the men who guarded the building for us. They knew this was business and that it didn't involve them. It wouldn't be the first time that someone had been dragged here with the aim of extracting the truth. Luc tied Angelo tightly to one of the steel beams and it took everything in me not to kick the pathetic waste of space in the ribs just to watch him squirm some more.
"You have the most fucked-up idea of what family is," Angelo rasped, head bobbing from exhaustion.
"We have a fucked-up idea of what family is?!" I stood in front of him and squatted down, pinching his face between my fingers. "You are the worst. You don't give a shit about family so don't start preaching."
Angelo reared his head back and spat in my face, a mixture of saliva and blood. I let go of his face, balling my hand into a fist and punching him hard so that his skull bounced off the beam behind him. He hissed in pain as I wiped the spit from my cheek.
"What did I expect from the guy that got Isa killed?" Angelo asked through gritted teeth, blood trickling from his nose and into his mouth as he spoke.
There was a heavy silence in the room before I stood up calmly and pulled out my gun. I cocked it at Angelo who suddenly looked nervous again.
"I never meant for that to happen," I said to him. Isa was the only blood relation I'd have given my all to beside my mama. She was the only one to actively keep in touch with us and visit. My beautiful baby cousin died in the crossfire and it haunted me every day. "This, though,” I gestured at him with the gun, “I'll take great pleasure in seeing the end of you by my hands." Guilt was non-existent when you had no care for the person in front of you.
"Wait!" Luc barked.
"Luc," I gritted out. He was my boss, but the fact that he kept stopping my instincts had begun to irk me.
"I said, wait," he hissed back. Reluctantly, I lowered the gun and stepped away from Angelo. "We need to know where he is." Angelo spat some blood out onto the floor. "Where is he, Angelo?" Luc asked him. Angelo shook his head. "Where's Xavier?"
I didn't want to play games with my cousin anymore. I wanted to get answers and finish this. Without a thought, I sent a shot at his foot causing Luc to jump and Angelo to scream in pain. The smell of gunpowder, blood and urine mingled in the air, but Angelo wasn't going to get out of this easily.
I expected Luc to reprimand me, but he just shot me a look before pulling a blade. He'd always had a weird affection towards knives although it'd dimmed since Mia's incident with Marco. "We've got nowhere we need to rush to, Angelo," Luc mused as he flicked out the blade and surveyed it.
"Already forgotten that pretty little wife of yours?" Angelo asked, words strained and almost incomprehensible through the immense pain he was in.
Luc's jaw tightened before lunging towards him and I pulled him back with all my strength. "Luc! He's trying to get out of this before telling us anything!" Angelo had prodded mercilessly at the only spot that could make Luc lose control, but this weasel was trying to find the fastest way out of his predicament. Death would be a quicker and less painful time than what we were about to put him through.
Luc relaxed and I let him go. He rolled his neck before moving calmly towards Angelo. When he crouched down, Angelo kicked out his good leg to try and ward Luc off. Looking around, my eyes clocked the baseball bat discarded against the wall from an old job, and I went to pick it up. "What do you want, boss?" I asked, coming back towards them.
"The kicking is an issue, don't you think?" Luc asked, getting up from the floor.
Angelo kicked out wildly. No doubt the ropes had to be cutting into his wrists and his face was swollen from the punches, but he was still fighting. I drew the bat back before taking a cracking swing at Angelo's legs and he shrieked in pain. He pulled it in towards himself, aiming weakly for some protection. I didn't ease off, enjoying the pain that was being inflicted. Only when the blood started to seep through and stain Angelo's jeans, and the sharp angle of bone could be seen, did I step away from him.
"Where is he?" Luc demanded. "I don't want to have to keep asking."
Angelo heaved. The pain and adrenaline caused his body to convulse, unsure of how to keep him going. "I don't know," he managed to get out. He wretched and a watery pool of bile splattered on the floor, causing me to curl my lip in disgust.
Luc mirrored my expression. "I'm not wasting anymore time. I’ll grab everything he has from the house and head back to ours.”
“You’re not going to hand it over to Gui?”
"Fuck it, Dante. We've been steps behind this entire time. We need to find this fucker and end it. If we can’t do it, it goes straight to Carmen. I don’t trust anyone here," Luc told me sharply. I nodded my head in agreement. Whatever the consequences, we'd deal with it, but we needed to let this come to a head. "Do what you want with him. I couldn't care less. Can't tell if he's lying or not but if he is, we’ll will find out soon enough. I don't have any use for him."
I ran my tongue over my teeth and swung the bat through the air. "Wait for me. This won't take long."
"Dante!" Angelo pleaded, and a thin smile pulled at my lips.
This would have been the conclusion whether Angelo had told us all the information or not. And somewhere inside, Angelo knew that, or he’d have given us what we asked for straight away with the hope of getting away. If he had messed with anyone else, I might have tried to plead his case and told him that if I ever saw his face again, he wouldn’t get a second chance. But he’d gone after the people I pledged my life to and I couldn’t let that go.
"See you in hell, cuz."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mia
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Franco commented once the boys left. I tried to paste on a smile, but the fear was coursing through me, making it difficult to breathe. “Can I help?”
“No,” I said. All of the worrying from the day paled in comparison to now. Grabbing the bottle of wine from the counter, I shakily poured two glasses and walked back over to Franco. The mess from the shattered bowl remained on the floor. I’d clean up later. “Luc and Dante have it all in hand.”
There hadn’t been a problem yet that they’d failed to resolve. Not while I’d been in their lives. As terrified as I was of what Angelo might have done, I trusted that they’d sort it. If Angelo had been in touch with Xavier, it meant we were a step closer to having a way to contact him and find out where he was.
“Sorry, dinner’s been disrupted,” I apologised, handing over a glass to him.
Franco gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s business, Mia. It rarely waits. Dinner, on the other hand...”
“We can eat,” I said. “I can keep plates aside for the pair. You’re stuck here with me anyway.”
“If you’re sure.”
I plated up and served dinner for myself and Franco, grateful to keep myself busy. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep food down, but I’d make an attempt to keep th
e evening running smoothly. “Thank you. Again,” I said, slipping into my seat.
“When do you plan to stop thanking me for doing my job?”
“When I stop feeling guilty.”
Franco huffed some breath from his nose in the form of a laugh. “That conscience will be your downfall, Mia.”
“Nothing bad ever came from having a conscience.”
“Nothing good ever came from it either.”
The crackling sound of a cry came from the baby monitor, ceasing the argument before it had a chance to start.
I took a quick sip of wine before standing up. “I won’t be long.”
“Take all the time you need,” Franco said, waving a hand dismissively. I was sure he was as glad for the breather as I was. Things were easier to navigate when we didn’t talk. At least then we didn’t worry about sparking a fight, but I maintained that Franco and I could move out of our icy business relationship and towards cordial with a little effort on both our halves.
Upstairs, in relative privacy, I let the fear grip me properly as I fed my son. Link was the reminder I needed that we were doing all of this for a reason. He’d have a better life, a safer life, when we found Xavier. Even if Angelo had betrayed us, he’d been caught quickly before any lasting damage could be done.
“We’re almost there,” I told Link quietly, running a hand over his head gently. “Almost have everything we want, cub.”
Link didn’t respond. He was content having been changed and fed and resumed his slumber. I placed him back down into his basket after placing a kiss on his head. As he grew up, I hoped he’d appreciate all we went through to give him the life Luc and I had always wanted for ourselves. Link would have a space and a family where he was loved and wanted for nothing. That was why we’d done this. That was why it would be worth it.
“Sweet dreams, cub,” I whispered, leaving him to his peace. It wouldn’t be long before I was back to check on him again.
I walked back down the stairs, pausing halfway when my phone went off. “Dante?” I answered the phone. “Are you and Luc okay?” The fact it was Dante and not Luc who had called made my fingertips numb with anxiety.
“We’re fine,” Dante told me. “Don’t wait for us. We’ll be home late. Keep Franco with you until we get back.”
“Okay,” I responded. “Dante, come home with Luc. I’ll keep a plate warm for you.” Dante had taken so much onto his shoulders and regardless of what he said or how he came across, I knew this would hit him hard. Angelo was his family or contact, however he wanted to refer to him, and Dante would blame himself for this mess. I wanted him to know that I didn’t blame him. That there were no hard feelings between us for the way his cousin had acted.
“Thanks, boss. We’ll see you later.”
I pocketed the phone again and went to join Franco in the kitchen but when I entered the room, he wasn’t at the table. The doors to the backyard were still closed and I couldn’t see him in the darkness of the evening. Maybe he’d gone to the bathroom. I jumped as Cerb’s figure bounded across the lawn and something inside me felt unsettled. I reached for my phone again to call for Dom. He’d come back to the house in a heartbeat.
Something hit the back of my skull so hard that I swore I saw stars. My phone tumbled from my hands and I fell to my knees, tears rushing to my eyes. “Fuck!” I cursed. I went to turn my head but another blow knocked me off my balance and I slid across the floor from the impact. When my vision cleared, ears still ringing, Franco stood above me with his gun aimed right between my eyes.
Slowly and carefully, I pushed myself to my feet and Franco moved the gun along with my movements. My balance was skewed from the attack and I swayed.
“I suggest you do what I ask you to, Mia.” There was a length of rope around his shoulder. While I had been busy taking care of Link, Franco had obviously attended to business of his own, raiding the rooms of our home until he found what he was after. It wouldn’t be difficult. He’d known the basic layout of the ground floor from working for us.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. It probably came out louder than anticipated because of the ringing in my ears.
“My job,” he replied. “Now, I’m going to need you to come with me.”
My eyes darted from the end of the gun to my phone that laid just behind Franco. If I could grab it and hit call on any number, at least someone would know what was going on.
“Don’t do anything st—”
Franco didn’t finish that thought as I rushed past him. The shot that followed missed me and hit the kitchen table, shattering the glass it hit and sending shards of it flying and wine spilling to the floor. I stepped into the liquid and slipped, hitting the deck for a second time, and this time Franco was quicker. He twisted a hand behind my back and caught the other, nails digging into me and making me hiss.
The monitor crackled to life again. The gunshot had been loud enough to be heard throughout the house, and Link had woken up again.
Struggling against Franco’s grip, I pleaded with him, “Please! Please! Franco, Link needs me.”
“Everyone’s replaceable,” he said cruelly, and I felt the bite of the rope against my wrists as he started to tie them behind my back. When I twisted and struggled, Franco pushed me against the floor, face flat against the cold tiles. I could feel the pain run through my cheek as small shards of glass cut through my skin.
“Get off me!” I screamed at him, but I couldn’t overpower him. Despite recovering from his injury, Franco was in the best position and my hands drew together as he tied them tight. Sucking in a deep breath, I let out a piercing scream.
He pulled me so that I was upright and slapped my face so hard that I was knocked off my balance again. Franco stuffed something in my mouth from behind and knotted it securely, catching my hair in the knot in a process and muffling all my protests.
Pulling me back onto my feet, I dug my heels in, trying my hardest not to be removed from my house and my son who was still crying but Franco hoisted me off the ground and walked with some difficulty. There was no way he’d fully recovered from what had happened and I tried desperately to hit him where he’d been shot, but with my hands bound, it was a near impossibility.
The cool air hit me as Franco exited the house with me kicking my legs in every direction I could. With some struggle on his behalf, Franco shoved me into the passenger seat of the car, and I craned my head back towards the house, screaming against the gag as he buckled me into position.
He raced around to the other side and started up the engine before pulling away at speed. All I could do was writhe in the seat as the house grew into a pinprick. My heart broke for Link who was left alone, crying and wondering why I wasn’t there to soothe him. My son needed me, and I’d failed him. I’d failed to find the strength to get to him. My heart beat painfully in my chest.
My throat was raw from screaming and my mouth was dry, thanks to the gag that had been placed there. The floury taste from it told me Franco had improvised using the dishcloth I’d been using all afternoon. Despite the fact my feet were unbound, I couldn’t do much from the position I was in as Franco sped along roads, breaking the speed limit.
“We’re nearly there. Won’t be long,” he assured me after a while, eyes staring out at the road.
But it felt like we had been driving for an age. The smooth roads soon became rocky and unsteady and the pain in my shoulders was pronounced by all the jostling. The ache in my head from where Franco had attacked me had dulled considerably, which was the only silver lining I could see in all the mess. That and the fact that Link was at home. He would be in his Moses basket, but Luc and Dante would get to him when they came back home.
The thought made my eyes burn with tears. Link would be okay with Luc and Dante, but he needed me. I bit down on the gag in an attempt to compose myself. I’d misjudged the situation. My compass had been tampered with and I placed my trust where I should have proceeded with caution.
The car jolted to
a stop and I ricocheted violently against the belt, letting out a muffled groan. Franco left the car, slamming his door shut before he opened mine, letting in a rush of cold air. As he unbuckled the belt, I made myself a dead weight, wanting to stall as much as I could. Franco’s fingers gripped the soft flesh of my arms as he hauled me out of the seat. The moment I was out in the open, I kicked out and the shock of the action caused Franco to drop me from his grip.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
The brain fog from the attack and the fact my arms weren’t free made running more difficult than I’d anticipated. I stumbled over my feet and barely made it three steps before Franco grabbed me around the waist, stopping my escape. My feet connected with Franco’s solid frame and a scream ripped from my throat, stifled from its true visceral nature by the gag and Franco’s large hand clamping over my mouth.
“No one around for a few miles, Mia,” Franco informed me. “I wouldn’t waste my energy.”
My eyes darted around the place, trying to find something familiar that would tell me where I was but there was barely anything around except for an old house that had some stables adjacent to it, backing out onto fields. Where had Franco bought me?
I jerked my head back violently, connecting my skull to Franco’s face, and he hissed. Just when I thought I could make another break for it, a fist connected with the side of my head and I reeled from the blow, dropping to the ground as Franco let me go.