Bloodbath

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Bloodbath Page 12

by K. A. Merikan


  Seth’s face hardened, and the needy expression was gone. “Fine. Wouldn’t want you to be inconvenienced. Especially since all I’m doing is what you asked me to, so I’ll carry on with that.”

  “Good,” said Dom, somewhat flatly, because now that the pleading was gone from Seth’s gaze, he realized how much he liked seeing it.

  “I’ll be at the pool if you need me,” Seth grumbled and took another step back.

  Domenico exhaled, watching him walk away as fast as if he wanted to run. Maybe he did.

  But that was not Gian’s concern. Gian had a job to do, and so he turned around and approached the garages.

  Chapter 10 - Seth

  Seth wasn’t in the mood for volleyball anymore, yet he still walked back to the pool where his job was to keep up appearances and fraternize with people. How could Dom have suggested that Seth was in his way somehow, when all he was doing was following orders without entirely giving up on closeness. They were pretending to be brothers. There was nothing strange about brothers hanging out together all the time.

  Though it was also true that Seth hadn’t been sleeping well and didn’t feel all that great when left alone in a pool full of sharks. Sometimes, he would wake up in the middle of the night and wonder whether Domenico was even still there in his room across the corridor, or if something had gone wrong with their plans and he’d been taken away. Seth would have been next, and not only would he never again see Domenico, but he’d die in one of the many horrific ways his mind conjured for him.

  The sun was showering his skin with heat, and as he approached the pool, the party was in full swing, just the way it had been before. No one knew of his struggle. The world didn’t care that he felt lonely and afraid, so he needed to suck it up and put up a smiling face that would offend no one.

  Instead of climbing back into the water, he waved at the people he’d played with earlier and rested on a sunbed under a large palm tree. Maybe if he feigned being asleep no one would bother him until he was ready to pretend that he was in fact in great spirits and had no care in the world.

  From the corner of his eye, he spotted movement on the terrace, and upon close inspection, he realized Toro was talking to David while they walked along the balustrade. The discussion seemed quite lively, but with no one shouting or pulling out firearms, Seth decided to keep still and watch from behind his shades.

  Maybe it was time for another shot of tequila? Dom had told him to not get drunk, but Seth had good stamina when it came to these things, so he was able to enjoy a drink with others, to not appear suspicious, and still easily manage to keep his mouth shut about their real identity and purpose.

  Toro eventually disappeared inside the main house while David made his way down the steps and then along the path connecting the main house to the pool. He was halfway there when he put his fingers to his mouth and gave a shrill, melodic whistle that turned all heads. It was as if a predator had walked too close to a group of zebras, and they all looked on, assessing what kind of action would benefit their safety most.

  The music came to an abrupt stop, leaving behind an emptiness of silence devoid of laughter or playful comments. It was as if Seth suddenly walked into a quiet church. Women wordlessly gathered into one group while the men gravitated to the sunbeds, putting on their shoes and tops. The change in mood had Seth’s pulse running wild throughout his body.

  For a horrible moment, a voice in the back of his mind convinced him this was about Domenico. That Dom had been somehow discovered communicating with Dana or Miguel and they were about to hurt him in ways so horrific it was already choking Seth up. But then, the rational part of his brain reminded him that this couldn’t be the case, because that would have made him guilty by association, and yet he was still on the sunbed, without anyone bothering him. Relieved, he sat up and sent David a questioning glance, because he had no idea if he was expected to react in any way as a nonmember of the organization.

  Domenico would have known, said that annoying voice at the back of Seth’s head again, but he dismissed it. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d have been just as tense and unsure on the inside as Seth was.

  Felipe pulled himself up so rapidly he barely kept himself up, with the bottle he’d been drinking from still in hand, but David barked something at him, and the loud voice sent Felipe right back on the sunbed.

  He kind of hoped he’d be exempt from... whatever this was as well, because all the other people gathered were clearly following a well-known cue, but he wouldn’t get the luxury of staying behind. David’s eyes settled on Seth. He grinned and made a broad movement with his hand, as if inviting Seth to join a party.

  One that excluded women.

  Knowing this place, it was not about to be an all-male orgy. Maybe David wanted them all to inspect a new batch of arms shipped over from Kazakhstan, or something of that sort, but the grim expression on everyone’s faces suggested something much worse was about to happen, and Seth had no choice but to participate. He would do whatever was expected of him, even if he’d once again be tested with drugs, because despite the bad trip he’d had after Miguel had given some to him, he’d still take it over having to witness another girl being transported in a box.

  God, please, let this not be about another girl in a box.

  Seth nodded, and at least he was dry enough by now to quickly pull on a T-shirt and a pair of sandals without the need for a towel.

  “What’s up?” he asked as soon as he joined David.

  The man grinned so wide it showed a small gap between his upper teeth. “It’s been awfully peaceful the last few weeks. You and your brother must think we’re boring people,” he said, walking Seth up the path to Toro’s house in the footsteps of a whole column of other men. From behind his shades, Seth spotted a few other groups moving across the lawn, as if they were all about to have a summit regarding some urgent issue. But surely, that wouldn’t be the case? Seth was not a member of Toro’s organization, so why would they want him to participate?

  He felt sweat beading on his back. David hadn’t mentioned Mark, only Seth and Dom. Did that mean Mark had done something and was about to be disciplined? The boy had seemed to have matured in the time since he’d joined them, but he was still Mark. He kept getting himself into some stupid shit. What if telling people he was gay had backfired, and he’d gotten into an argument with someone over it?

  Seth forced a smile to his face. “Will I be getting entertained? Too bad my brother’s out.”

  David shrugged. “He will have his fun,” he said, raising his tone at the end, and that was enough to send Seth’s heart thrashing around in his chest. Oh, God. What if it was Dom they had after all? What if he was now being led to his death? Had their true identities been discovered?

  His mouth went dry when they walked into the part of the house Seth knew was neither bugged nor otherwise monitored. Separated from the main villa with thick walls, it was used for the most incriminating activities. Seth knew few powerful crime lords bothered with keeping their activities under wraps, assuming any problem could be dealt with assassins and bribes, but not Toro. He was very particular about not leaving any tangible evidence, and keeping incriminating activity to a set area made it much easier to contain. It was also where Mark lived while guarding the girl.

  He wouldn’t have hit on one of Toro’s men, would he? Or let the girl escape? So many gruesome options kept coming to Seth’s mind that holding up his mask was becoming increasingly difficult, yet with the risk that him cracking would end up hurting Dom, Seth played his role.

  The elegant interiors were a farce considering what happened here on a daily basis. It was all a caked-on mask obscuring monstrous features, without a speck of dirt on the mirrors and decorated with vases full of fresh flowers that smelled of death.

  As they walked past a row of reinforced doors, he noticed that one of them was open, and his heart thudded at the sight of rows of military-grade weaponry, with even something that looked suspiciously like a bazo
oka hanging underneath the ceiling. He calmed his breathing to not seem suspicious, but there was hardly the time.

  Two of the men walking ahead of them approached a large painting, but when one of them reached behind the frame, the whole wall moved, revealing a hidden door. Seth swallowed, and the cool, damp air blowing at him from the darkness behind the picture, brought back memories of yet another cellar. His breath became so frantic he could barely force air into his lungs, even if the stairs leading down weren’t nearly as old and narrow as the ones back in Italy.

  Across the planet from his hometown those things were done the same way. Should he be happy with this evidence of trust, or should he be terrified and assume he wouldn’t live to tell anyone about it?

  He followed David nevertheless, pulsing with all the visions of murder that crawled under his skin as he listened to the dozen pairs of feet stepping into the abyss with him.

  The sharp odor of bleach was embedded in the brick walls of the cellar downstairs. With no decoration, and without even plaster covering the walls the space felt unbelievably raw, like an unfinished house, but the dark stains on the cement under Seth’s feet made his knees soften.

  Most of the men were in good moods, despite the serious faces they made at the beginning of this walk, but one stood out, and Seth allowed himself to watch him through the shades that he would undoubtedly have to take off soon, because he could only excuse wearing them indoors for so long.

  A man not much older than Mark was huddled in the corner, keeping a brave face, but he was awfully pale, and his body language spoke of fear. Left alone as the men gathered around the opposite end of the cellar, it seemed like he was about to be executed via firing squad.

  Seth watched on without a word, hoping he could blend in, even though he knew that wouldn’t ever work. He was an outsider who didn’t speak Spanish, taller than most of the men in the room, and he wasn’t about to hunch his shoulders to hide that. He’d been taught not to show weakness. The problem was that such lessons were much easier to put into practice when role-playing with Domenico and often rewarded with fantastic sex, than now, in front of a man—no, a boy, who suddenly exploded with words, looking between the men.

  David leaned closer to Seth and put his hand on his shoulder. “Manuel here wants out. He’s gone through his initiation just fine, but that was much easier than getting into danger himself. He almost died and now he’s shitting his pants. Toro needs no man who’s not completely dedicated.”

  Seth nodded and took off his shades. They were ideal for hiding his eyes, but he couldn’t seem like he had something to hide. “Back in Italy, we used to drop a man like that into the sea. How do you deal with this here?” Did that make him sound tough enough? Uncaring enough? He could hear his voice, yet he couldn’t recognize it. If he played this part for long enough, would Seth disappear, leaving behind only Bastian?

  David grinned, ignoring the way some of the men yanked at Manuel’s clothes, taunting him with words. “How big was that little gang of yours anyway? Weren’t you an eyesore for the mafia?”

  Seth sighed. “Too little to fight back, big enough to survive. We moved our operations because of the tensions.” It was a cover story they’d rehearsed with Domenico so many times Seth almost believed it by now.

  David nodded and looked at the empty part of the room in time to see Adolfo, another senior member of Toro’s entourage spin the cylinder of a revolver before handing the gun to Manuel, who glanced at him, wide-eyed, and started pleading again. Seth needed no translation to understand.

  “How many chances does he get?” Seth asked quietly, his voice further drowning in the loud jeers. It even seemed like three of the men gathered were taking bets.

  David stared at the youth, with a smile dancing across his lips. “Three.”

  The pleading continued, but in the end, Manuel went quiet and eyed the crowd with such desperation Seth’s heart shrank in sympathy. For a brief moment he wondered whether the kid would try to shoot into the crowd, in a vain attempt to save himself, but the revolver had only so many bullets even when fully loaded.

  Manuel swallowed hard, and his whole body sank deeper into the corner of the room, the walls seemingly remaining the only thing to keep him up as he raised the gun in a trembling hand and eventually rested the muzzle against his temple.

  The room went silent for half a second, but then erupted with jeers and whistles when the boy pulled the trigger. Empty. Yet the experience still left the boy a shivering mess.

  And it wasn’t even over, there were two tries still to go. Someone pulled the gun out of his hand and spun the cylinder again to the background noise of more pleading.

  Just being in the room and having to witness the scene had Seth’s heart shrinking and covering itself in layers and layers of walls so that he could keep a straight face and play the tough guy who considered this normal.

  When the second round of the roulette ended without brains splattering all over the brick wall, Seth started feeling nauseated, but it could have been simply contagious, because Manuel bent over and vomited on the cement floor, to the laughter of Toro’s men. Adolfo took the firearm from him and was about to hand it over to yet another person for spinning when David pushed Seth forward and called out in Spanish in a bundle of sentences that included Seth’s fake name.

  Adolfo glanced their way and approached.

  Seth was complicit in this crime by watching, but he didn’t want to have any more involvement. His hand closed on the hard steel nevertheless, because this wasn’t about what he wanted. It needed to be done, for Domenico, for Mark, for their family. When Manuel’s eyes turned to him, the tension inside Seth became unbearable.

  It had been the boy’s choice to get involved with Toro in the first place, but what could Seth know about the things that pushed Manuel into crime? Maybe he was forced by family, or circumstances. Maybe he didn’t know what the job would entail. Just like Seth hadn’t wanted the accept his fate as the Don’s son.

  He spun the cylinder that held one bullet, not taking his eyes off Manuel, even though his mind taunted him with the image of that single piece of metal and gunpowder tearing through flesh and taking this young man’s life. It would be almost as if Seth had pulled the trigger himself, but Seth’s family and their safety were more important. Showing any sign of weakness could endanger Dom and Mark, so Seth wouldn’t. He’d learnt his lesson many times before, and no matter how much it made his personality split and crack, he would follow Domenico’s orders. But he also claimed full responsibility.

  He could have given the gun back to Adolfo, but if he was to be seen as the man he claimed to be, he needed to do more than that. So he forced his feet to move and approached Manuel himself, handing him the revolver with a face so tense he felt as if his muscles were turning to stone.

  The boy shook his head violently and pleaded, but Seth shoved the gun into his trembling fingers until he gave in and grabbed it. Only then did Seth step away, once again thinking back to that time when he told his father he didn’t want to kill Angelo Pecora. But when it had become clear that Dom would have to bear the consequences of Seth’s decision, Seth had forced his hands to move and did what had seemed unimaginable minutes before.

  His goal was to keep Dom alive. To make him proud. So he didn’t even completely back out and watched Manuel’s tortured eyes from up close, because he needed to take responsibility for every difficult choice he made. There was something akin to appreciation in some of the voices he could hear behind his back, and if Manuel died from that bullet, Seth would have to console himself by knowing that he’d reached peak masculinity in the eyes of thugs.

  Manuel could barely breathe. Seconds passed, extending his agony into an eternity, but he gathered the courage at last and pulled the trigger once more.

  Empty.

  Seth stopped breathing altogether to not sigh in relief too loudly, but David stepped out from behind his back and shot Manuel right in the head.

  The thun
dering sound was too much for Seth to handle by surprise, and he flinched back, biting down on his tongue to keep from yelping. A faint dampness sprayed on his face. Not enough to justify an immediate reaction of disgust, so he forced down the need to find the nearest sink and wash off the blood. He watched Manuel slump down the wall, with the shadow of a relieved smile still dancing across his lifeless mouth.

  “Can’t even die like a man,” David snarled. “Once you’re in, you’re in,” he said, turning around to the other men and Seth guessed he was repeating that in Spanish. They all nodded, murmuring something in agreement. Seth swallowed, shocked to the core by seeing David, who’d been nothing but friendly so far, kill a man without even a moment’s hesitation.

  David and Adolfo exchanged a few words, and then two teenage boys were pulled out of the crowd, and Seth understood that it was their job to dispose of the body and pour more bleach over the concrete floor. And learn a lesson in the process before they climb the ranks of the organization.

  “Effective,” said Seth, already turning his body to avoid looking at the lifeless eyes that suddenly seemed exactly like Angelo’s.

  “Doesn’t happen often.” David led Seth out of the cellar without a rush. “But with the Morenos arriving any day now, we can’t have cockups like that.”

  Seth nodded. “People need to know what they’re signing up for.” His face felt like it was covered in a thin film of blood, and he couldn’t wait to scrub it off before nausea took over completely.

  “We need to drink to loyal men,” said David as they walked up the stairs, along with the others.

  So he was expected to stay. He could do that. For his family. “You know I’m always up for a drink.” He even smiled slightly, as if the image of Manuel’s brain drizzling down the wall wasn’t stuck in his head.

  David grinned and patted Seth’s back as they climbed into the corridor. The damp, hot air was a relief and gave Seth more freedom to breathe than the cool cellar that smelled of bleach.

 

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