“I wish I knew more.” His features are so sincere, even I almost believe him. “All I know is what our security team was able to tell me. That a group of armed men burst in and began firing randomly into the crowd. It was a massacre.” He swallows hard. As if he’s actually in emotional distress.
Jesus. What a piece of work!
“I understand how hard it must be for you to speak to us today, Mr. Whitlock,” the reporter says soothingly. “Were you able to identify anyone from the security footage?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m afraid not. Just that they were clearly dangerous men. Obviously seasoned criminals. One of my guards mentioned that he heard them calling to each other in…in Italian.” He looks into the camera again, letting the words sink in.
The reporter moves the microphone closer to her mouth as she responds. “Italian? Are you under the impression that there may be some sort of mob connection, Mr. Whitlock?”
Mark lowers his eyes and shrugs as if trying to come to terms with what has happened.
“I wish I had more answers for you. I know that there has been dissatisfaction among the gangs in our area. A successful venue like ours will always draw attention. And, of course, the fact that we’ve refused to succumb to their intimidation tactics…” he trails off.
Yes! Because you’re running your own damn criminal gang!
I want to fling something. But what would be the point? The police commissioner has stepped forward to take over the conversation.
“I believe Mr. Whitlock has answered enough questions for now. I’d just like to add that our department will be working closely with him to uncover who was behind this crime. I assure you that we will get to the bottom of it.”
The reporter continues to nod like an idiot. “Thank you, Commissioner. Mr. Whitlock.” She turns back to the camera. “And that concludes our live update. Stay tuned for more news. And now—”
I flick the button on the remote in disgust to change the channel.
What the actual fuck?!
I can’t believe it! That bastard didn’t just walk out of there unscathed; he’s actually got the police on his side now. Just as he always did. Why am I even surprised? It’s what he did when Kyle died, after all.
Kyle didn’t die. He was murdered.
Murdered by that pig! The man who’ll just as quickly hurt Mateo when he gets a chance. I can’t let that happen. Not again. Never again.
I won’t be the reason for the death of another man who cares for me.
Despite my recent shower, I feel myself break into a cold sweat as an adrenalin-fueled rage surges through me. It mingles with the persistent roiling of my stomach that’s left my mouth dry and my appetite non-existent. I want to kill him. Kill him with my own bare hands. I want him lying in his own blood, looking up at me and knowing that he created the creature of vengeance who’s come to end him.
I pray that he begs when that time comes. I pray he squeals like the pig he is as he pleads for his miserable life. Maybe I’ll toy with him for a moment or two. Let him think there’s a hint of hope. And then I’ll snuff him out. Switch off his lights and leave the earth cleansed of his poison.
As the rage keeps fueling me, I grit my teeth and reach for the courage I’ve been gathering these past days. I’ve wasted too much time already. I need to move fast before I miss another chance. I pick up my phone and scroll through the numbers.
And I dial the number I have stored forDead Pig.
Chapter 4
Andy Carter
“Andrea. What an unpleasant surprise.” Mark’s mocking voice on the other end of the line leaves me so startled that I almost choke on my spit. I struggle for words, trying not to gag. It was hard enough to make the call, but to hear his voice…
“Mark,” I finally manage to croak out. “I…I…” I swallow down bile as I realize I’m a step away from throwing up yet again. “I just saw you on the news.”
“Yeah. Fancy that, huh? Bet you were pretty pissed to see me alive.”
I suck in a breath. “What? God, no, Mark!” I shake my head, though I know he can’t see me. “I’ve been…out of my mind with worry!” I’m not lying. I’ve been worried about Mateo. About dying.
But about Mark? Not so much.
“Worry? About what? That your little friends didn’t take me out back there?”
“No, of course not! Mark, I had nothing to do with that. You have to believe me!”
