Rocco sounds impressed as I press my foot down onto the shovel, digging out another few inches of dirt.
I shrug, leaning on the metal. “An eye for an eye, right?”
“I thought you Fusco lot cut out the tongues of your traitors?” Rocco stares into the growing hole with fascination as my shovel clunks against the surface of the wooden box.
“We do.” I clear enough space to open the lid. “But Cat has a say in this one too. So I’m just… passing the time, until she gets back. Keeping him on ice.”
Working out my demons on the man who sold me out. Matteo would be fuckingdeadif it wasn’t for him.
Rocco helps me heave the box out, flipping the lid. He whistles. “You don’t fuck around, Fusco. I might have to try this for myself.”
Leo moans behind the gag.
My ex-enforcer, ex-best friend and traitorous bastard stares at us both with petrified eyes, ruddy-faced and bleary. Old tear tracks stand out on his filthy face.
Rocco sniffs, his face twisting in distaste. “He could do with a bath. Or a toilet.”
“All part of the experience.” I kick the side of the box, and Leo flinches.
I slice through the cables on his ankles, his legs, watching as he moans and flails, dragging himself out.
“Terrible choice for an enforcer.” Rocco mutters. He kicks him, and Leo howls. “Johnno seems alright, though.”
High praise.
“Glad you approve.” My voice is dry, but he laughs anyway.
We wait as Leo crawls out of the box, desperately reaching for the water I left in a pile and glugging it. His shaking hands rip open an energy bar, his teeth tearing into the chewy center.
I study him, my lips pressed into a thin line. “If he had any sense, he’d let himself die. It’s been six weeks.”
Six weeks since I dragged him from the basement beneath the Fusco house and brought him here.
“Parasites like him will do anything to live. Fuck only knows why. Doesn’t seem worth it to me.” Rocco pulls out a packet of cigarettes, lighting one up and blowing out white smoke in a perfect circle. “Fifty bucks says he comes over here and tries to beg.”
I snort. “I’m not losing that kind of money.”
He indeed begins to crawl my way, and Rocco cackles with laughter. He pulls out his gun, and Leo pauses, his arms shaking as he begins to back up. “How fast can you run, traitor?”
Now this is a bet I can get behind. Leo staggers to his feet, his legs already buckling as he makes for the trees, wobbling and staggering. “A hundred says we catch him in less than a minute, even with the head start.”
“I’m feeling generous today.” Rocco aims, one eye closing. “And bored. Let’s see how long he goes for before he drops. A little test of self-preservation.”
A terrified shout echoes as Rocco’s shot hits the tree closest to him.
I eye the next grave, the box already open and waiting for him. Eleven holes dug so far in this clearing, the clearing where heburiedher.
I wonder if it feels like home to him yet. Buried, released, and buried again. Long enough for him to feel the agony of it, but not quite long enough for him to suffocate.
He doesn’t deserve anything less.
Fucking karma.
I actually grin as I pull out my own gun. “I’ve decided I do like you after all.”
“I’mveryfucking likeable.” He sounds affronted. “Ask Dante.”
God. He reminds me of Luc. I shake the thought away. I don’t want to think about Luciano Morelli right now. Don’t want any of those thoughts that consume me night and day to creep in.
