“We’re saying the same thing, Cat. Let me do this for you.”
She bows her head, and her arms fall by her sides. This isn’t a win-lose situation. There are no winners here. But that’s not on her. That’s a choice Nino made when he decided to slit his own father’s throat.
Whirling, I sprint up the stairs to the bell tower.
Nino’s down one gun, though it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have another. I’m sure he’s got a knife strapped somewhere as well.
Thanks to the abduction, I’m down one gun too. I normally pack two guns and a knife. At least Brody brought me one of his 9 mils and an ankle blade. I have both out as I reach the last step and proceed into the belfry.
Nino’s head peeks out from behind the bell. The family crest hovers near his right ear. What a joke.
Tattoos are supposed to symbolize your truth, you pathetic bastard.
“It’s over, man.” I know if he had a gun, bullets would be leaving his barrel.
I could’ve just shot him dead, right in the family crest, but I like a fair fight. My ego might be pussy-whipped, but it’s still all alpha.
Rooted in place, he creates an easy target.
“Nino! I can see you, you idiot. Come out and be a man for once in your life.”
“Fuck you, Mick.” Nino appears from behind the bell, wielding a knife.
I pocket my gun and switch my blade to my dominant hand. “Despite you being rotten to the core, Cat still doesn’t want to see you die.”
“Which is why this family should be mine. She’s weak!” He’s sweating everywhere, losing his mind. I’m watching a man come undone by his own selfish actions. I can practically see his tats wilt on his thick skin, heavy from all his evil, insidious emotions.
“No, it takes a true leader to show compassion. She got that ability from your father, may he rest in peace…no thanks to you.”
Nino’s eyes bulge out at the mention of his deceased dad. “You don’t know shit about it.” His out-of-control rage causes him to lose his balance. Pressing a hand to the stone wall, he straightens to his full height in a display of faux courage.
“My father’s not all that different from you, now that I think about it. And I still don’t want to kill him. Because I’m not psychotic.”
Nino wipes a swath of beaded sweat from across his hairline, and that’s when I spot the big shiny rock. He’s wearing the damn diamond like a badge of honor. A trophy for killing his father.
His eyes simmer with judgment. “You think you’re better than me because you’re fucking my sister?”
I’m not exactly sure what he means by that, but I just threw up in my mouth a little. “I think I’m better than you for a number of reasons, but we don’t have time for Christmas lists, laundry lists, or bucket lists.” As I respond, I take three calculated strides in his direction.
He crouches like a tiger ready to pounce.
“Drop the knife.” I spin my blade in my hand, shifting it from forward to ice-pick grip.
I’ve got five inches on this guy in height, so I don’t need the extra distance the forward grip offers. I need a swift power hit, and reversing my grip on the knife is ideal for a grapple to the death. One overhand stab to his juggler, heart, lung, or femoral artery, and it’s bye-bye Nino.
“You know, you’re never going to be a leader. You’re a loser.” Nino stumbles toward me. “You don’t even have a home. The West Coast doesn’t want you. The East Coast doesn’t want you?—”
“Big words for a man who just blew up his perfect life.” I smile, because why not.
“You think living in my father’s shadow has been easy?”
“I know exactly what it’s like.” I growl as I match his death stare. “And I reiterate, I’m still not going to kill the man who gave me life. I don’t have to agree with him. Hell, I don’t even have to like him. But real leaders don’t steal the helm from capable men by force.”
“The fuck do you know about it?” Nino adjusts his weapon in his sweating palm, slicking the hilt with his stink.
I continue inching forward. “Your problem is you didn’t know your place.”
He cocks his head wordlessly, as if out of retorts. Finally.
