Page 24 of The Taker

“Vinny from my cousin Maddie’s crew?” He nods. “He always has a trick up his sleeve. Come here, kid.”

He pops up from his seat and bounds over to me like a puppy, a wide grin on his face. “Thank you Mr. Vettore.” He pulls a long, thick stretch of rope from the pocket of his ripped up, black jeans. Not what my soldiers typically wear, but I made an exception because they transported my rat straight from their father’s butcher shop.

Elio ties Greg’s feet together, using an intricate knot around his ankles that screamsShibari Enthusiast. Rope play isn’t my kink, but I know how to admire solid knots when I see them. It seems like everyone in the mafia is a sexual deviant in their sparetime. Is there a correlation between organized crime and having fun between the sheets?

He heaves Greg over his shoulder, grabbing the hook hanging from the ceiling. He secures it with a loop on the knot and leaves our rat to hang upside down from the ceiling. Then he runs outside for a few seconds, coming back in with a textured baseball bat.

He sees me eying his weapon. “Milo made this for me. It’s like a meat tenderizer, but the little spikes sticking out actually puncture flesh if you swing it hard enough.”

He takes a solid left-handed batting stance and swings, hitting our rat square in his chest. He swings around from the velocity of the hit, screaming bloody murder. A little too much considering Elio didn’t even hit his broken ribs.

“This knot tightens under strain, so when he struggles, the tension crushes his ankles. If you make him spin around enough, he’ll eventually puke!” he says with excitement, handing me his bat. It’s made of steel, and feels hefty enough in my grip to bust a skull wide open.

“Swing batter batter!” I shout as I clobber Greg right on his broken ribs. He swings round and round like a bloody tetherball as his agonizing screams pierce the cool night air.

He tries to yell the usual,Stop, help me. Please. I don’t know anything. But it’s hard to hear some of it because the sound is distorted from him swinging upside down and crying a fucking ocean. I keep hitting him, because aside from being effective, this method of torture is fun. And good cardio. Vinny shouldn’t be keeping this to himself–the entirefamiglianeeds to know about this magical trick.

He does puke a foul smelling bile that splatters all over the warehouse. I let him come to a stop on his own, marveling at how green his face is.

“I played little league back in the day, so I can keep going. Tell me what you know about Ronan’s whereabouts, and I’ll make this torture stop.”

“Okay! Please let me down!” he cries.

Elio looks at me for the go-ahead, but I shake my head. “Tell me something good, and maybe I will.”

“Ronan is hiding out until things die down. He isn’t at his place, but he has a side piece in Queens he fucks on the regular. He may be at her place.”

I hit Greg in the shoulder, and he grunts. “Her name?”

“I don’t know! She’s a stripper he picked up at Bottoms Up, one of the Irish’s strip joints.”

“The Magpies actually own Bottoms Up, you dipshit.” That’s the issue with these low-level wannabe crime syndicates like the Brass Bruisers. They don’t know the city’s criminal underbelly or do their homework. “They’re actually from Ireland, not part of the American Irish mob. Not that it matters to you, because you have about a minute of your life left,” I scoff while texting Giuseppe our new information.

I pull out my glock and a hunting knife I always keep on me. “Okay my violent little proteges. Time to vote. How do we want to kill our rat?”

“Gun,” Piero answers decisively.

“Knife,” Milo shouts.

“Ummm…knife,” Elio says after thinking about it for a minute.

“I am partial to a good slice and dice,” I fondly say, remembering that knives are something Leo and I have in common. I slice up lesser criminals, and he dices vegetables. Tomorrow I’ll ask him to cook something with a lot of knife work like the pervert I am, because it’s hot as fuck to watch.

“No! Please! I can go back and find out more, become a secret agent for you!” Greg frantically bargains as I bring the knife to his throat.

“Ronan isn’t that stupid. You’re as good as dead if he runs into you. Enjoy whatever afterlife you get, Greg.Arrivederci,” I sing-song while slitting his throat.

I text the clean up service my cousins swear by and transfer their fee promptly with a twenty percent tip.

“Let the cleaners in, make sure they do their jobs, then lock up when they leave. Work with Giuseppe on finding Ronan’s girl and bring her to me ASAP, unharmed.” I don’t like to rough up civilians unless absolutely necessary. “I can’t believe you were sitting on that for a whole week, Elio. I want you to do a demo at the next crew meeting. Good work.”

I stride out without so much as a backward glance. When I get into my car, I tell my driver to take me home and pull out my phone, immediately opening my surveillance app.

Leo is pacing around his room in just his briefs, the phone held up to his face like he’s on a video call.Who the fuck is he video calling at ten at night practically naked?He knows he’s mine, and that means no one else.

I turn the volume up, and Leo’s laughing at something this mystery man said. His laughter is husky and musical, luring out the monster inside me with its carnal melody. A provocative tune only I should hear.

I text my cousin Max so I can plan how I want to murder this asshole on the phone.

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