However, I won’t turn down sweets.
Seven
JULIAN
“No killing, just make it hurt,”Carson says with a nod. “Got it.”
Carson is the scariest of the group, and that’s saying something because we’re all powerful, mean men. I wouldn’t want to fuck with any of them.
But in addition to the casino he runs, Carson is an assassin. That’s his favorite thing to do. He’s the biggest of us, and I’ve seen him tear men apart with his bare hands, without breaking a sweat.
Scary motherfucker.
Mateo, the fourth of us, nods solemnly. He runs weapons and drugs and cleans his money through our legitimate businesses.
He also has the shortest temper, which again, is saying a lot.
I push into the cell, leading the group, and find my son strung up by his wrists to the ceiling. He’s in handcuffs, which are attached to hooks.
And he’s a blubbering mess.
I love my son, but I hate the man he’s become.
Slowly, I shove my hands in my pockets and stride over to where Elliott hangs. No one has dared touch him, so there are no wounds, no bruises.
“Dad, there’s been a mistake.”
I slap him across the face with an open hand, humiliating him more than hurting him.
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
Elliott sniffles, and when he turns his gaze at me, his eyes are full of hate and malice.
The blubbering was a show, which I knew. I know my kid.
“I think you’re going soft,” he replies coldly. “And I can’t wait to take over the organization and run this city the way it should be run.”
Carson growls behind me, and as Elliott’s gaze flicks to him, a little fear slips through.
“You’re under the impression that you’ll be inheriting my empire,” I say as I calmly stroll away from him to the tool bench. There are knives, shears, pliers, saws, drills, tire irons, and many other tools that we use to hurt men much stronger than my boy.
Mateo prefers fire.
Carson? Well, whatever’s handy is fine with him.
Rome is similar to Carson, but has a thing for an axe.
Me? I like knives.
So, I grab a little paring knife. It’s small, but sharp as hell, and Elliott will think that I’m going easy on him.
And I am.
But not nearly as easy as he thinks.
“He thinks I’m soft,” I say to Mateo as I walk past him.
“I suspect he’s about to learn differently,” Mateo says with a sinister smile.
