“Remember Manuel? He wanted to have his cake and eat it. Stole weapons. We only found out when his father tried to sell them two days ago.” Luis spat on the ground, pushing past Seth and following his boss into the shack. The doorway was so low that all of them had to bow their heads to enter.
Seth wasn’t sure if he was ready for whatever horrors were about to be unleashed, but he promised Dom he’d follow orders. Wasn’t this just another part of it? Doing whatever they needed to so that one day they could go back to Italy, so that Domenico could see his mother, so that they were safe then?
In this moment, the end goal seemed as murky as the river by El Encanto. In the shadowy insides of the shack, Luis opened a large wardrobe where a crying woman crouched behind pieces of clothing. She screamed, clutching a child in her lap when her eyes darted across the room. Alvarez had a man pressed against the wall. The couple both screamed, pleading in Spanish in a gut-wrenching way that only pushed Seth’s mind deeper into nothingness. He needed to remain detached. He needed to do what was expected of him, what needed to be done. He promised Domenico he would.
He couldn’t even understand what they were saying. As if it didn’t matter, because they’d be punished however Toro chose anyway.
The woman thrashed in Luis’s arms, trying to pull away so ferociously he was starting to struggle despite odds being at his side. The sight made Toro laugh, and he made a light-hearted comment Seth couldn’t understand, roaring with laughter when the woman kicked at Luis’s shin.
Luis’s eyes narrowed, and the grey combover slid over the front of his face uncovering the large bald spot. He turned the woman around and punched her in the face so hard the grip she had on her child faltered. Luis pulled the crying girl out of her mother’s arms so abruptly for a moment Seth thought the child would be tossed at the wall from the impact. The high-pitched sobbing pulsed in Seth’s head when he watched the scene before him play out, as if it were a particularly brutal movie, not reality as tangible as the salty sweat dripping from his upper lip.
The man screamed and fell to his knees, pleading to Toro while Alvarez pressed a loaded gun to his head. Fat tears glistened on his face in the weak light coming through the small window.
The question that Seth didn’t want answered was—why was he here? He didn’t want to act out of turn, seem eager for brutality, and yet he didn’t want to look like a coward either.
“Do they not want to give up the weapons?” he asked in a level voice. He could keep it cool. He was the rock Domenico needed him to be.
Toro looked back at him and shrugged. “They already sold them, and they have been returned to us by the buyer. The point is that no one should follow their example, isn’t it?” he asked and walked up to the little girl, who fell over when Luis pushed her Toro’s way while still holding her mother.
The child had dirt stuck to its face, as if it had played in the mud before they came crashing through the gates, and the tears streaming down her face tore clear lines in the brown traces on her cheeks. She froze when Toro pulled her toward Seth and squatted down pulling on one of the girl’s tiny hands. She couldn’t be more than four years old. Toro spoke in a soothing tone that finally got the child to look at him, even though the sobs were still shaking her.
The worst of ideas crawled in Seth’s mind like worms in the dirt. Would Toro want him to take the girl and sell her, since they claimed to be people smugglers? Maybe it was for the better? Domenico would find a way to hide her and in due time, they could bring her back to her parents.
Making his breath even was a chore, but he could do this much. He could do what was necessary.
Or at least he thought so until Toro pulled closer a wooden stool, placed the girl’s hand on it, and took a serrated knife from a holster at his belt.
Seth’s ears drummed with screams, but all his attention was on the little kid, whose hand was the size of a tangerine when pressed into a fist. The big, teary eyes looked up at him, as if the girl believed his passivity was a sign that he was there to help.
“Take the knife,” Toro said, offering the weapon to Seth.
Seth accepted it, already knowing he’d hesitated for too long. This wasn’t good at all. He needed to act before any other order was given. “Why waste her? We could sell her on.”
Toro laughed. “You will be working for me now, and I don’t trade in people. I just want to send a message. Which finger will you take?” he asked, pressing on the girl’s hand and forcing it to spread on the wooden stool.
Bile rose to Seth’s throat at the memory of his own little finger being sawn off with a knife much like the one in his hand. How did he get to the other side of this equation? His temples pulsed with images of that little hand bleeding all over the stool, and the cries of the parents weren’t helping Seth think of a way out of this situation. He couldn’t detach and just be a body that followed orders like a puppet. He was still himself, not a beast ready to bite into any flesh he was pointed to.
Looking into Toro’s eyes felt like torture. He knew what this man was capable of, so did Seth have the courage to oppose him? Or was he being a stupid fuck to even attempt it. Maybe he should push that knife into his own throat to spare himself the later torment?
“She’s just a baby…” he managed to choke out.
Toro’s gaze was unmoving, as if made of steel. “We were all babies once.”
The chaos inside the house was so loud it all merged into a kind of screaming silence that enveloped Seth in a cocoon and threatened to overcome him forever.
He’d betray Domenico’s trust if he didn’t follow Toro’s order. But then again, would Domenico even want the Seth he’d become by torturing an innocent child? This wasn’t ambushing people smugglers or self-defence. This was cruel and wrong.
Seth’s upper lip curled. “I’m not doing it.” His stomach hurt at the words coming out of his own mouth. He would pay for them. It would hurt. Maybe even for days to come. He only hoped that Domenico finds out about it soon enough to avoid Toro’s anger. This way, maybe he’d still get to flee on time and see his mother one day.
Toro pushed the girl away, and she fell over, starting to cry once more, but all Seth could think of was that she still had all her fingers. He was so focused on watching them that he didn't see the punch coming his way until Toro’s fist collided with his jaw. He tasted blood the moment his teeth closed on the tip of his tongue, and his world twisted when the impact sent him falling over a chair.
He opened his eyes in time to see the old man’s head explode with blood. The raw bang of the gunshot echoed in the confined space, dulling all sound and filling Seth’s nostrils with the burn of gunpowder. The body fell to the ground like a sack of limbs, leaving the woman collapsing as well when Luis let go of her. She cried hysterically, shaking all over even as her daughter ran up to her.
Seth tried to get up, but a kick to his side prevented him from doing so, and he wasn’t even sure who delivered it. “Isn’t it enough to get rid of that man?” Seth looked up at Toro and hated seeing that same serrated knife in his hand.
Toro crooked his neck, and his shoe pressed against Seth’s jaw, cold and dripping mud all over Seth’s skin. “You’re here for me, aren’t you? Who sent you?”
Seth’s eyes went wide. This wasn’t good at all. Toro’s paranoia was the last thing he needed right now. “No. No! I don’t want to hurt her, that’s all!”
Toro pressed harder on Seth’s jaw, and someone surprised him with a kick so powerful Seth curled up, knowing there was no use to fight against three men whose guns were all pointed at him.
“We’ll see what Gian has to say.”
“No! Leave him out of this!” Seth reached out with his hand, and seeing the missing small finger gave him a chill, but he still said, “Just take one of my fingers instead, and we can call it even?” Bile kept forcing itself up his throat, but he would not back down. He was the one who chose to be in this mess, so he had to clean it up.
Toro’s e
yes lit up in amusement as he watched Seth’s hand. “I see someone’s beat me to it.” The sole of his shoe rubbed the dirt into Seth’s cheek, but then Seth’s whole body was rolled over, and someone descended on him with their whole weight, yanking back his arms.
Warm breath tickled the back of Seth’s neck as the man leaned over him to whisper. “I knew you were a rotten egg thrown into our nest,” said Luis before two pairs of strong arms yanked Seth to his feet and made him ache even more now that his muscles stretched.
Seth stared at Toro, his jaw still trembling. “I can make up for this, just let me.”
“Shut up,” Toro said, watching Seth coolly and nodded at his men. He went out first, with Alvarez hauling Seth behind him so rapidly Seth’s head knocked against the top of the doorway. The pain radiated all over his skull, rattling his brain and only strengthening the bloody tang on his tongue.
As his head turned, curling away from the hard wood, he spotted the girl, safe in her mother’s arms.
Next to her father’s dead body.
It was all Seth could do. He bit his lip so hard he drew blood. He wouldn’t have them see him cry. He was a tough guy now, just like Domenico wanted him to be. And a tough guy stood for what he thought was right. Even with his future looking bleak, he wouldn’t take back what he’d done. That child did not deserve torture.
And yet when he heard the name ‘Gian’ being mentioned in a phone conversation Toro was having, he had to bite his lip even harder. After all the training he’d gone through, he’d be a disappointment for Domenico. If Dom was out with Dana, there was a big chance he’d not be apprehended. Seth chose to believe that, because any other option was too horrible to imagine.
Luis opened the trunk of the car, and Alvaro forced Seth into the dark, suffocating space that barely had enough room for him. The lid of the trunk pressed on his arm, burning with its heat, and Seth imagined the many other men who had laid in his place before.
He was certain they were all dead.
*
The journey in the trunk of the car rattled Seth even further. After some time, he lost touch with how long it’s been and started wondering if he was even being taken back to the villa. What if they were shipping him off somewhere else, somewhere far away from Domenico? What if they wanted to simply take him into the forest, make him dig a hole, and then shoot him to save themselves the work of disposing of his body?
The relief he felt when the trunk opened, and he spotted one of the familiar statues on the facade of Toro’s villa was so immense he wanted to cry. Even if he fucked it all up, he’d get the chance to see Domenico for the last time. It was a selfish thing to hope for, but he couldn’t help himself.
Toro didn’t even bother taking him into the house himself, too busy with shouting at someone over the phone, so it was Luis who shoved Seth forward with the muzzle of a gun. As soon as they were inside the house gleaming with cleanliness that now seemed so inappropriate for Toro, Seth knew where they were going.
Luis led him all the way downstairs, to the area without cameras, to the painting that hid away the killing room on the lowest level of the house. Seth clenched his eyes to not have them well up at the damp, bleachy smell that assaulted his senses when the hidden door opened, but he walked down the stairs when prodded.
His feet were like made of lead, but he tried to breathe evenly, pretend that the blood on the raw brick making up the shaft of the staircase was just paint. Would Dom be down there? Would he still be alive?
But all those silly feelings rotted in his chest when Luis pushed him into the cellar, and he saw blood bubbling up under Miguel’s nose. Lying on his stomach, with his face turned toward the entrance, Miguel had both his hands and legs tied, and Nero Moreno sat on his back sipping beer from a glass bottle.
“Finally, Luis! How long can this take?” Nero asked to Miguel’s grunt, and Seth’s stomach sunk.
They were all fucked. They were so fucked.
If Miguel was here, fuck knew what exactly Nero knew about them, or what he’d told Toro, or even his father. Would Seth regret not taking the girl’s finger when he was boiling alive?
Nero grinned at him. “Hey there, I found your long-lost cousin,” he said, attempting to balance the beer bottle on Miguel’s head before eventually giving up. He got to his feet, pulling up a pitch black baseball bat that screeched against the floor as if it were made of metal, not wood, and approached Seth, tapping the tool against his shoulder. Suddenly, his outrageous manner didn’t seem annoying as much as blood-curdling.
Seth glanced at Miguel for only a split second, so that he could be aware of Nero’s moves instead. “Is that what he told you?”
Nero took a deep breath and shook his head, gently tapping the baseball bat against Seth’s jaw as he stepped too close for comfort, so close Seth could sense the musky, somewhat bitter perfume he wore. “Are we still playing this game then? I thought I won.”
Seth’s hairs bristled at the thought that Nero might want to fuck him before moving on to murder. “It depends what side you’re playing for.” It was hard to breathe, let alone speak, but maybe Seth could still find some way out with the freak’s help.
Nero laughed and nuzzled Seth’s jaw, but this time, with the cold weight of the baseball bat pressed so close to his skin, Seth didn’t dare push Nero away.
Nero opened his mouth and lapped his way all the way to Seth’s ear. “It’s hard to pick a side when all your so-called-cousins are so handsome.”
Chapter 17 - Domenico
Domenico couldn’t believe that the wine cellar where he and Seth had stolen a few moments of intimacy on the first day of their stay at Toro’s contained a hidden entrance to a tunnel leading beyond the walls of the property.
“How did you find out?” he asked Dana as the two of them walked along a counter with all kinds of beauty products in the closest that El Encanto had to a department store. It was a cube-shaped modern building tucked between the old houses in the city center. Covered by a fresh layer of red sheet metal, and with a wall of glass at the front, it clashed with its surroundings as if it were a parrot in a henhouse. At least the clothes they sold looked somewhat decent, if not the quality Domenico preferred.
Dana smiled as she picked up a bottle of shampoo. “I faked a panic attack about how the mansion was like a trap. He got scared for the baby and to calm me down, told me about the way out in case something happened.”
Domenico nodded. “That’s smart. But how would you get there in the first place if the house were under siege?”
She picked up a beige-pink lipstick and held it against her face while leaning down to look into a mirror. “There’s another tunnel, leading there from the main house. He figured that two entry points would be optimal in case of an emergency.”
Domenico sighed. It was smart and reminded him of the forgotten underground way between the Villani house and his prison in the well, back in Sicily. “Good to know.”
“I really think we should use my plan with the explosives at some point, I’ve got all the chemicals necessary. Christ, it feels nice to talk to someone normal.” She sighed loudly in exasperation.
Domenico grinned when she put back the lipstick and led the way to a large section with women’s clothes. She went for the corner with the most expensive ones, of course.
“We don’t want too much chaos. Maybe you could help me get rid of Luis and David in due time? Once there’s a vacancy higher up, I could stand a chance to become more entrenched in the business.”
Dana’s blue eyes widened. “Yes. That’s good. It would take less time than waiting for one of them to fuck up on his own. And once Seth proves himself, Toro will most likely allow him to be the one guarding me when he asks you to do his bidding.”
Domenico nodded, but he gravitated to a group of racks standing beneath photos of pregnant women on the wall. A green dress caught his attention immediately, and he pulled it out on the hanger. “This one would showcase your stomach,” he said and p
ushed the garment at her.
Dana groaned. “I don’t think I need it just yet.” But she did look down at her growing belly, and since she was a slender woman overall, there was no denying that the pregnancy was slowly beginning to show. “It feels like having the Alien inside,” she whispered.
Domenico frowned. “Is it the depression? You should feel a connection with him, shouldn’t you?”
Dana hugged the dress and shrugged. “I don’t know. Should I? I don’t have time to read books about babies. There are more important things on the line.”
Domenico folded his arms on his chest. The color of the dress looked good with Dana’s skin tone and eyes, just as he suspected. She should get it. “There are no things more important than family. You’re gonna have a little boy, so what’s not to be happy about?”
Dana let out a deep sigh and walked into the only dressing room. “Why do you seem so happy about it?”
He followed her with his hands in his pockets. “Children are a blessing to the family. I’m not going to have any, so I suppose it will be nice to experience having a baby around once in a while.”
“You’ve got Mark. He’s like a toddler with a constant boner for everything.” She rolled her eyes and closed the velvet curtain right in front of his nose. Domenico groaned, reminded of the revelations about Mark’s sexuality. It was so messed up. In fact, he felt cheated, because it was a young gay man in need of guidance that he had taken in in the first place. He did not expect something like this to hit his family.
“You know, he might like pussy too. If you like having the first baby, maybe the two of you could make another one?”
The silence behind the curtain didn’t suggest a positive answer. “That is one of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard. I could have a baby with him as long as he’s the one giving birth.”
Domenico laughed out aloud and didn’t stop when he noticed a man in a baseball cap pass through the corridor between sections of the store, only to suddenly gain interest in women’s perfume. His face was quite forgettable, but that was exactly why Domenico chose to memorize it. He was one of Toro’s lowest-ranking soldiers.
Bloodbath Page 22