“Two years ago, someone broke into my place and kidnapped Isabella. Would have taken Angelica if she hadn’t hid under the bed. So yes, I know. But you’ve got to keep your head about you.”
I vaguely remember hearing the story about Isabella’s kidnapping. “Did you keep your head about you?”
He gives his head a light shake. “Probably not, but still.”
We approach the room silently, guns drawn.
The curtains are drawn, but light seeps through the edges.
Roman positions himself on one side of the door while I take the other. With a nod, he kicks it open.
The stench hits me first. Booze and sweat and desperation.
The Santa suit is crumpled in the corner, beard stained with what looks like whiskey.
The man himself is sprawled across the bed, an empty bottle dangling from his fingertips.
No sign of Rocco.
“Rocco!”
The man bolts up, bleary eyed.
I cross the room in three strides, hauling the drunk to his feet by his stained undershirt.
"Where is Rocco?" I slam him against the wall, pressing my forearm into his throat. "Where the fuck is my son?"
His bloodshot eyes widen in terror. "I don't–I don't know what you're?—"
I press harder, watching his face turn purple. "The boy from the winter festival. The one you took. Where is he?"
"Luca." Roman's voice cuts through the rage pounding in my ears. "He can't tell us anything if he's dead."
I ease the pressure slightly, just enough to let him gasp for air. "Start talking. Now."
"I swear, I didn't take him!" His eyes dart frantically between Roman and me. "Some guy paid me five grand to walk the kid to a car. That's it!"
"What guy?" I press the barrel of my gun under his chin. "Name. Description. Everything."
"Never saw him before!" Sweat pours down his face. The stench of urine tells me he’s pissed his briefs. "Tall, dark hair. Expensive suit.”
Roman moves closer. "And you just handed a child to a stranger?"
"He said he was saving the kid.”
“Did the kid look relieved to be saved?” What a fucking moron.
“Uh… no, but…”
My patience shatters.
I pistol-whip him across the face, blood spraying from his split lip.
"My son is missing because of you," I growl, striking him again. His knees buckle but I hold him upright. "Where did they go?"
"Black SUV! That's all I know!" He's sobbing now, blood and snot mixing on his face. "Please?—"
I press the gun into his temple. "Not good enough."
