It was impossible not to see the way his eyes focused on the hammer like laser beams, hoping that the vision was merely a mirage and not his future.
Joe pulled the wooden table over to where Xavier sat then freed his left hand and placed it on the table. Xavier struggled but he was too weak to put up much of a fight.
I eyed his hand.
“Did you know, if I let you live, you would lose all function in your fingers? The bones will splinter into tiny shards, puzzle pieces that can’t be glued back no matter how much money you throw at the doctor. A broken wrist and a broken hand.”
Xavier glared.
“Unless.” I toyed with the hammer, weighing the end of it as I flicked off some rust with my fingers. “You give up all associates who are vital to your plan. Names, addresses, social security numbers. I will allow you to live, with your two broken hands, if you give them to me.”
“If I don’t, you kill me?” Xavier said in a cold voice. “Is that it?”
“Yes, and I can promise you this. It will not be quick.” I took a step forward. “I need an answer.”
“I’m thinking!” he yelled.
“Think harder!”
“I’m dead either way.” He straightened. “He will kill me either way.”
“Who?” Hell, I had no idea he was in deep with someone else. But that would explain why he wanted money and power. Maybe it wasn’t about him but about escaping from underneath the thumb of someone else entirely. “Who will kill you?”
“Petrov,” he spat the name.
I laughed. “He has been taken care of. Haven’t you heard? He’s dead. The FBI found some interesting information about his prostitution rings. He didn’t… survive prison.”
Xavier shook his head hard back and forth. “Not that one.”
My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, not that one?”
“His other son.”
“His. Other. Son.” I took a deep breath. “His other son would be barely twenty-two. If that.”
“His other SON!” Xavier shouted. “Is in league with Satan.”
“Aw, he can’t be so bad.” My eyebrows arched. “Tell me, how does he kill?”
Xavier swallowed and looked down at his feet. “He drowns you. And then revives you, only to repeat the process. And then, he lets you eat and drink. Only to slowly singe the skin off of every single square inch of your body with a torch and, when you are in so much pain he is afraid of your impending death, he injects morphine to keep you alive. But it does nothing, so when he turns the lights on, your skin begins to smoke or what is left of it. There are crowds set up, bets take place, if you survive, it is only to bring you out the next day, allow more bets to take place, and finally when you don’t think you can take it anymore, you beg for death. He tosses a gun into the ring,” Xavier’s voice shook. “And you take your own life.”
“Give me names,” I repeated. “And I will kill you before he does.”
Xavier glanced at me, his eyes, for the first time, betraying his fear as he slowly nodded. Joe released his hands.
He unbuttoned his shirt two buttons then pulled a necklace from over his head and tossed it onto the table. A thumb drive in the shape of a shark was attached to a string. “I wear it at all times. To keep my secrets close to my heart.”
“And now they are my secrets.”
“You may kill me now.”
I hesitated. “Do you not trust that I can protect you?”
Xavier sneered. “Protecting me would be giving me the title of boss. Already his patience wears thin since I haven’t brought him the twins. He needs them.”
“You never did,” I stated.
“He did and, by giving them over, I could negotiate with you. Everyone would have won. Well except you. Then again, you’re old, why do you care? I’m a free man, the twins go to the Russians, and I become what I should have been long ago, the boss of the Alfero family.”
“How many?” I ignored his insult. “How many associates have you stolen from my family?”
“Ten.” He didn’t even blink. “And they will follow me to the death.”
“Good.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my knife. “Because they will have to.” One slice across his neck, quick, swift, he grabbed his neck but his wrist was broken, improperly working. Blood oozed from his fingers as I leaned down and whispered in his ear. “May you find peace as the saints drag you to hell.” His eyes widened; the Russians always were superstitious. I smirked as he collapsed against the table, eyes open and full of fear.
“Now what?” Gio walked in, half of a sandwich sticking out of his lips. “We go after Petrov?”
“Hah.” I shook my head slowly. “No, we eliminate the ten associates who defied us.”
“Well, hell,” Sal said from the doorway. “Sounds like a vacation.”
“Highest body count buys dinner.” Papi nodded seriously. “I want cannoli.”
…Such tricks hath strong imagination. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Valentina