Dario and Romeo were still staring at the boys with their backs against the walls. One of the frightened boys had pissed on the floor, and it was starting to run toward Remy Mestengo’s head.
Remy Mestengo narrowed his eyes at Guido, realizing Guido was fucking with him, but he did not open his mouth. He was too busy applying pressure to his head.
“You did not help her with her things,” I said.
No matter what his response to this was, he was going to suffer for it. No one touched what was mine, but no one ignored what was mine—a woman should not carry such heavy burdens. This was why a man was created. This was why I was created for my wife.
He blinked at me. “You mean when she left? Man, I couldn’t. I watched her the entire time, even chilled at the storage place while she unloaded all the old junk. She didn’t see me, but she knew someone was there. It upped her fear. Which was a good thing. It sent her running away from my boss, didn’t it? It all worked out in the end. No harm. No foul.”
“This wasn’t your intention in the beginning,” Mac said.
“No,” he said. “Not in the beginning. I had no fucking clue how the situation was going to play out. I’m not trying to play devil’s advocate here, but being a part of the criminal world yourselves, you should know how it is. No criminal wants a crime to be linked back.” His eyes flashed to the side. “Can I be brought up now? That piss is getting mighty close to touching my head, and it’s open. That might cause an infection.”
Grinning at him, I brought him up by the shirt. Brando picked the seat with wheels up, and kicking it hard enough to send it flying, rammed Remy Mestengo in the back of the knees. He dropped into the seat as if he were a stone.
Mac handed me a box from his shoulder bag. He dug in his bag once more, setting a sterile tube, cannula, bag of blood, tourniquet, and a cauterization tool of some sort on the desk. He looked at the three shivering mice, the “friends,” standing against the wall. “That might help. It might not. Do what you will with it, but I’d make it fast. It’s his type.”
“Left or right,” Brando said.
“What?” The boy looked at Brando, sweat pouring down his face. His foot started to tap as fast as a rabbit’s.
“Tell me, Remy Mestengo,do you ever give the women that deny you a choice,” I said, lifting the knife from the box. It was clean, sharp; it could slice right past bone with the right hand directing it. It was an old knife that had belonged to Uncle Tito. It had been used for thieves.
“Ah,” Brando breathed out. “Good point. You decide for him,fratello.”
Not even the music coming from downstairs could hide the high-pitched scream of Remy Mestengoas he lost the hand that attempted to hold my wife’s. The same hand he had raised to me in a toast meant to be disrespectful.
Chapter 5
A Cat Will Be a Cat; if Not, It Would Be a Dog
Aria Amora
Sitting outside by the pool, in what felt like a continuation of the hours before, I tried to bring the night to terms with the day.
Long before dawn, Scarlett and Juliette had been escorted back to their own house, and maybe I was being too quiet for Carmen, so she had disappeared back in the house. But I had been deep inside of my head, my heart chanting for Rocco, calling him home.
Closing my eyes, it was all I could see.
The most vulnerable time of the night, when light starts to push its way through the barrier, thinning it. And the vision that stepped so quietly through it, barely disturbing the delicate balance of dawn.
My husband.
His hands clean, but his clothes covered in blood.
It was only the two of us, facing each other. I was already being revealed by the tender light. He was still cloaked in darkness. The scent of blood had swirled around him in the wind. It was so thick in the air, even outside, that there was no escape from it.
He stared at me for a second, before he dropped to his knee, producing a box from behind his back. With a trembling hand, I lifted the lid.
I was never so thankful in that moment for not taking the entire box from him.
I would have dropped someone’s finger.
It was tucked deep inside of tissue.
It only took me a second to know who the finger belonged to.
Remy.
