“Alek,” I whisper as spots of black start to invade my vision. “I’m fading.”
Alek growls and grips his gun tighter. “Why are we talking to this fucker?”
“I want to know,” Carmine insists. “Give me a reason not to end you after all you’ve done.”
He steps closer.
Stephan chuckles softly. “I don’t need to give you a reason.”
“Get on your fucking knees,” Alek demands.
Stephan looks amused at the order.
Alek lets go of me and I lean against the edge of a wall nearby. I watch as he stomps over to Stephan and shoves him down by his shoulder. Forcing him down onto his knees.
“Don’t act like you have any say over how this goes,” Alek hisses. “I could kill you right here and now. You’re surrounded.”
“It’s over,” Carmine agrees. “Your men are dead. We have the guns you got from the Carvels. You have nothing left.”
Stephan huffs. “I’m the least of your problems, Dresvanni,” he tells us.
Carmine eyes him. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll soon find out,” Stephan smirks.
“Maybe we should take him back to the estate, question him,” Carmine ponders.
“No,” Alek says, suddenly panicked. “No! This ends now. After everything he did.”
As my vision starts to fade completely and I start to slide down the wall, one of the last things I see is Alek press his gun to Stephan’s head.
“What did I ever do to you?” Stephan asks.
“You killed my wife, you fucking maggot,” Alek yells at him. “You killed dozens of families, you didn’t even care who was in that building and…fuck! Why am I telling you any of this I?—”
“Alek, no!” Carmine tries to stop him.
It’s too late. A gunshot rings out and I hear a body fall to the floor.
It’s not the last one though. Two more shots ring out.
“Fuck you, fuck you!” Alek growls.
Two more shots.
“Alek, he’s dead!” Jake says.
“Fucking motherfucker. Fucking monster, what kind of…” Alek’s voice is the last thing I hear before everything truly disappears.
20
ALEK
Getting Tommy into my car while he is passed out isn’t exactly easy, but I manage it. He’s lying in the backseat while I drive, and I can’t help but look at him through the rearview mirror every minute or so just to check on him.
I opt not to go to a safe house, but instead go to his apartment. I know he’ll be more comfortable there, and with the Bianchis and Carvels taken out, the risk of something happening is low. Not zero, but low enough that I feel comfortable taking him there.
I manage to rouse him enough to get him up the stairs into his apartment after searching his pocket for his keys. Once we’re inside, I take him to the couch and let him sink down into it with a groan.
