: Chapter 12

One year later

I glanced at my watch. Flavio should arrive with Sara any moment. Since Sara had returned to college last semester to further pursue her degree in art history, either Flavio or Romero had picked her up in the afternoon and taken her home in addition to the bodyguard who watched her while she was there. Too many bad memories were connected to me picking her up. I wasn’t usually home at the time, as I’d started to work a lot again, but today was our first wedding anniversary. One entire year as husband and wife, at least on paper, but we were roommates, not more. I doubted we even qualified as friends. We rarely spent time together and when we did it was often loaded with awkwardness. I was fairly sure Sara didn’t enjoy being near me and so I tried to stay out of her way as much as possible. The two darkest days of her life were directly connected to me, so I couldn’t blame her for wanting some distance.

We only had dinner together about twice a week. The rest of the time, she ate with her parents and siblings. We did what was necessary to keep up appearances but not more. When I’d suggested we go to dinner for our anniversary, she had agreed at once. But even that was probably only for appearance’s sake.

I blew out a breath, annoyed at my train of thoughts. I glanced at my watch again and reached for my phone in my pants pocket, ready to call Flavio. The hum of the elevator made me stop.

The beep of the code being entered into the keypad sounded, and the door opened. My phone rang as Flavio and Sara entered the apartment.

I gave Flavio a nod in greeting and Sara a brief smile before I answered the phone. It was Maddox.

“We have a lead on where they are,” he said as a form of greeting.

I froze. “Jabba?”

“Yes, and the bald one, Yevgeny or what was his name.”

“Where?”

Flavio came closer, his eyes eager.

“In a warehouse in Newark. We don’t know the exact location yet but should be able to narrow it down soon.”

Sara was frozen in the dirtroom, in the process of removing her coat.

After more than a year of searching and questioning Bratva assholes, I finally had a hot trail for the men who had captured Sara and me. I’d killed many of Jabba’s acquaintances and family members, but he’d always escaped capture. He’d gladly pushed everyone into the path of the oncoming bus, the filthy coward. He wouldn’t escape this time.

“Send me the details. I’m coming as fast as I can. We’ll find him.”

“You should wait for backup. I’m too far away to join you in time. Romero is on his way too.”

“I’ll handle it,” I clipped. “Send me the details.” I hung up. Jabba would be mine today even if I had to search every fucking warehouse in Newark by myself.

Sara watched me with wide eyes, still wrapped in her scarf and one arm in her coat. “Our attackers?”

I nodded. She swallowed hard.

“I’m coming too,” Flavio said immediately.

“No. You have to watch Sara.”

Flavio stepped in front of me. “Let someone else do that.”

“Last time someone other than you watched her, she was kidnapped, remember?”

Flavio shook his head, but he finally stepped out of my way so I could grab my guns and the bag with my knives and torture utensils.

I grabbed the door handle and turned to Sara.

“I know today’s our anniversary…”

She gave me a shaky smile. “It doesn’t matter. Go.”

“I’ll make them pay for what’s been done to you.”

For what they made me do…

Sara nodded then she turned away and removed her coat.

I left and as soon as I was out of the apartment, I sent Amo a text. I wanted him by my side. Then I began running, I wanted to get to Port Newark as soon as possible. The marine terminal was huge and it would take some time to find the right warehouse. What if another Made Man found them first and decided to give them a quick end. I wanted to be the one to capture and kill them, and I’d make sure it wasn’t a quick ending.

I took my old Ford truck instead of my new truck. It reeked of wet dog and the remnants of blood. I only ever used it for shelter or torture jobs.

My blood was rushing in my veins at the prospect of getting my hands on Jabba and his men tonight. Nothing else mattered. I’d get revenge for Sara. I had bought her an anniversary gift which was in a box on the kitchen table, but today’s revenge would be the true gift, one that I was sure would mean far more to her.

We had never discussed what happened, never discussed my search of our capturers. We’d let silence rein.

I broke every speeding law as I headed toward Port Newark, where Maddox suspected the Russians. My old Ford truck groaned as I drove it to its limits. Four warehouses were on my list, and after searching two and torturing the people I found there, I knew Jabba was in the third. I parked my truck in an area that couldn’t be seen from the front door of the warehouse. No windows faced this way, so the chances of anyone spying me from inside were zero.

I couldn’t let those assholes escape. I might never get another chance.

Just when I got out of my truck, Dad and Primo came running. I wasn’t sure where they’d parked. Dad motioned for us to get down beside the truck.

“We need to scout the area first to make sure this isn’t a trap,” he said.

I shook my head. “They are inside. I don’t want to give them time to escape. And the assholes I tortured weren’t holding any information back, trust me.”

“They aren’t aware of our presence—unless this is a trap, which we need to eliminate as an option. We won’t turn this into a suicide mission.”

I gritted my teeth. Hadn’t he listened? Dad was the Head Enforcer, so I had to follow his commands, even when his orders didn’t sit well with me. Or at least I had to pretend I was following them…

Dad narrowed his eyes at me, and I groaned. “All right. As long as I get to kill them in the end, I suppose I can wait. Should we split up?”

Dad nodded. “You two go together. I’ll be on my own.”

“That’s not a good idea,” I said immediately. I didn’t want to have Primo with me. He would play the voice of reason, but I just wanted to get inside.

“Bullshit. Let’s make this as effective as possible and each go alone. I don’t want to waste more time than necessary scouring the area.”

Dad regarded me closely as if trying to determine if I was up to something. Eventually he nodded. He handed Primo and me pagers. “Give us an update if you find something. We’ll meet here in fifteen.”

I took the pager then turned and hurried around to the back of the warehouse, not giving Dad the time to change his mind. I stuffed the pager inside my pants and took my gun instead before I approached one of the smaller side doors of the building. It wasn’t secured by a keypad, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t protected. Maybe it gave off a signal as soon as it was opened. Holding my breath, I pushed down the handle and opened the door about an inch, waiting briefly for an alarm that didn’t come.

I stepped inside and closed the door without a sound, then listened for any noise. The low hum of male voices carried over to me. I followed the sound toward a few crates and huddled behind them. Peering over them, I saw Jabba, Yevgeny, and a third man I didn’t know at a table, playing cards as if they had no bother in the world. My anger exploded in my chest. I was ready to ambush the three on my own.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder. Tension shot through me, and I whirled around, grabbing the arm to break it when I came face-to-face with Romero.

“It’s me,” he murmured.

I released a tense breath and let go of his arm. “Maybe announce yourself next time. I could have killed you.”

“An attacker could have killed you too. You weren’t vigilant. Let’s not be stupid because we want revenge. If we get killed by those men, we definitely won’t avenge Sara.”

I nodded. He was right. I had to think before I acted, even if all I wanted was to become a mindless, bloodthirsty monster and destroy those men.

They soon began sniffing their own drugs and got more and more boisterous.

A sound behind us made Romero and me whirl around with pointed guns. Amo, Dad, and Primo were behind us. They came to our side. Dad’s expression made it clear that he wasn’t happy with me, but I knew he would have shown little restraint if someone had hurt Mom.

At a sign from me, we attacked the drugged Bratva assholes. It took immense control not to kick their asses right away. I wanted to take my time and let the effects of the cocaine wear off a bit. When Jabba recognized my face, he grinned dirtily. I almost lost my shit. I’d make him cry and beg later.

We took all three to my family’s dog sanctuary. When Amo and I carried Jabba to one of the kennels at the end of the premises, his frightened gaze took in the snarling dogs jumping in their cages. He probably thought I’d let the dogs have a go at him like the Bratva often did with enemies, but these dogs had seen enough blood in their lives. Besides, I would do far more damage than them. I’d take my fucking time and make it worthwhile.

When I threw Jabba to the dirty ground of the kennel, he scuttled to the back and sneered at me. I could see the fear in his eyes, but he was trying to put on a show. People like him often did until you peeled away every layer of their charade and revealed them for what they really were: weaklings.

“I hear you married sweet Sara? I’m honored that I was present when you consummated the marriage in advance. Has the sex gotten any better?” He cackled.

I stormed forward and grabbed his throat. “If this is your attempt to provoke me into rash actions, it won’t work. I’ve dreamed about torturing you for a year. I won’t rush anything tonight.” I swallowed hard because being so close to him, it actually took more restraint than I’d thought not to crush his throat right away. “Sara and I lead a happy marriage, so thank you for setting it up. I would have never gotten her without your help.”

I straightened before Jabba could see the lie in my eyes. Luckily, he didn’t know me well. But Amo’s face and that of Romero who had joined us too, showed me they knew the lie. I avoided their eyes. “Romero and I do the torture alone today.”

Amo nodded. “If you need me, I’ll be in the house.”

Primo and Dad brought the two others into neighboring kennels. “Let’s start with him,” I said, nodding toward Yevgeny. “I want Jabba to see what awaits him.”

Romero and I left Jabba’s kennel and went to the one beside him that harbored Yevgeny. Dad handed me my bag with the torture utensils that I’d left in the truck. I unfolded it and hung it up on a hook at the top of the kennel. The instruments gleamed beautifully in the artificial light of the gas lamps. Knives, scalpels, pliers, screwdrivers, needles, hammer, cheese grater, and many more things I’d come to like over the years of working as an Enforcer.

Soon, screams filled the night. Sweat trickled down my face and back. The cold of the outside hardly registered as I worked with Romero to avenge Sara.

We didn’t kill Yevgeny. After two hours of torture, we decided to move on to Jabba. He’d watched for long enough. He tried to put up a tough front, but one look into his eyes told me he was wrecked by terror of what was next—as he should.

Jabba fought against his restraints when I grabbed his arms and pulled him toward a hook that hung from the ceiling of the cage. I fastened the restraints around his wrists to the hook and pulled Jabba into a standing position.

I stepped very close to him and bared my teeth. “I’ll enjoy every second of this.”

Romero came up beside me with pliers in his hand. “I never had a chance to use these.”

I motioned for him to go first while I grabbed a small drill.

Jabba screamed when Romero began with the first toenail.

My heartbeat slowed. Maybe tonight wouldn’t bring me peace or absolution, but it would get me as close as I could ever get.

We tortured the three Bratva assholes until the sun rose. Jabba took his last breath without ever seeing the beauty of another sunrise. When I returned to the house, cold and covered in blood but feeling a sense of peace I hadn’t in a while, Mom, Dad, and Amo awaited me.

Mom handed me a strong coffee, which I took upstairs to the bathroom. I showered for a long time, but not because I felt the need to wash off proof of what I’d done. This time, I would have loved to bask in their blood for days if that were possible, but I needed to wash away the remnants of the fury and bloodlust. I wanted to see Sara as soon as possible.

When I came downstairs, only Mom was there. “Romero returned home. Amo, your dad, and Primo are cleaning the kennel. You should lie down for a few hours. You have to be exhausted.”

“I need to see Sara.”

Mom got up and touched my cheek. “She’s with her family. And trust me when I say that you should wait a bit before you face her. One shower doesn’t wash away hours of what you’ve done.”

I knew she meant it figuratively because there wasn’t a hint of blood on me anymore. “I’ve done this before. I’m fine.”

“No, this was personal in a way that affects you more than you want to admit. Take a few hours to rest. Sara will understand.”

I decided to listen to my mother and lay down for two hours. When I woke, I texted Romero, telling him I would pick up Sara in about an hour.

When he wrote back that she was at Barnard, I was stunned. For some reason, I had thought she would wait for my return, eager to hear about the revenge I’d sought on her behalf. That she had gone to college as if it were a day like any other didn’t sit right with me.

Gritting my teeth, I went downstairs, glad to find Amo still around. Together, we hit the gym after breakfast, and I listened to Amo’s decision to divorce his bitch of a wife, Cressida, to be with the woman he truly loved. It was a good distraction from my own thoughts.

When I returned home in the late afternoon, the two bodyguards in front of our door told me that Sara was already there. I found her in the kitchen stirring her delicious lasagna soup in a big pot. She was humming an unfamiliar tune and wholly immersed in the task. I cleared my throat, and her relaxed demeanor evaporated.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said. Was she happy to see me?

“I would have come earlier, but your dad told me you were at class.”

“I had courses.”

“I thought you might not go.”

She frowned as if that didn’t make sense. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” She filled a bowl with steaming soup and set it down on the table. My present was still there, unopened.

“They got what they deserved. I made them pay tenfold. I hope that makes you happy.”

She stared at me in confusion. “Happy? Because they’re dead?”

“Are you not? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I wanted them to be gone so they couldn’t hurt anyone ever again. But it doesn’t make me happy.”

I wondered if she wasn’t happy about the revenge I’d taken because there was one more person who needed punishment in her eyes: me.

Even if I hadn’t done it out of my own free will, I had been the one who’d hurt her.

She sat across from me with a bowl of soup for herself.

“Happy belated anniversary,” I said, trying not to let my frustration show, though it was hard. Why couldn’t she see that I had done this for her? So she could move on?

“Oh, yes.” She glanced at the parcel. “Happy anniversary. I didn’t think we’d celebrate.”

I laughed bitterly. “We have no reason to, you’re right, but I got you something. You don’t have to open it if you don’t want to.”

She flushed and reached for the package, then opened it. Inside was a tea cup from the pottery artist she liked, plus a voucher so she could buy whatever else she liked. “Thank you.”

“You can put it with the voucher I gave you last Christmas.”

She still hadn’t used that one either.

She regarded the cup for a moment before she met my gaze. “Thank you for this, and for last night.”

I gave a terse nod. We ate in silence after that, and I wondered where we’d go from there. Maybe I’d foolishly hoped getting revenge would wipe the slate clean, that it would mean a new start for our marriage, but Sara’s reaction made it clear that it wouldn’t. Maybe I should stop thinking it ever would and just return to living the life I had before Sara.