Page 100 of The Councilor

Hearing Ivan’s voice brought some relief. For once I was thankful the man couldn’t follow orders. I kissed her on the head and pushed her back toward his voice. I was going to handle this son of a bitch myself.

She issued another strangled cry and that only fueled the anger that had been welling to a boiling point. Never taking my eyes off him, I lowered the flashlight to the cracked asphalt, providing just enough of a highlight to aid in what I was about to do. Now I was the one shifting back and forth from foot to foot. This wasn’t going to be pretty, nor was it going to be succinct.

I had a goddamn score to settle.

However, by the end of this evening, the fucker would be dead.

By. My. Hands.

With my little lamb being taken care of, I could concentrate on beating the shit out of Jericho. He’d changed. Prison did that to a man but there was no doubt who he was.

I shoved my weapon into my back, determined to bring my own sense of justice by using my hands. At least at first.

As I approached, moving more like a boxer, he lifted the knife he was carrying into the limited light. Within seconds, I’d kicked his arm martial arts style, knocking it away. Only then did he realize what I was trying to accomplish.

He advanced, even beckoning me with his two hands. With the rain still coming down, we were both soaked but that didn’t matter to me in the least. I waited, still showing off my boxing moves, allowing him to throw the first punch.

Then I allowed my anger to crash through the surface, my rage helping fuel the power of my punches.

Which I issued one right after the other.

However, the man had bulked up significantly during his prison stint. While he’d stumbled backward, smashing into the brick wall of one of the buildings, he quickly recovered.

Over the course of the next few minutes, several savage punches were thrown. He managed to issue enough at one time I was pitched to the ground, sliding along the surface.

He laughed as he stared at me with wild eyes. “Come on, fucker. We can do this all night long. I’ve been waiting, planning. You worthless fuck.”

That was all the encouragement I needed. I rammed him so hard that his feet were lifted off the ground. I pummeled him into the wall, slamming his head against the aging brick several times. He responded quickly, his strength almost as if he had drugs in his system. He jammed his fist under my jaw but even as stars floated in front of my eyes, we continued to wrestle.

“You fucking asshole. If you think I’m going to allow you to kill anyone else, you’re dead wrong.”

His maniacal laugh continued to fuel me. He used both hands to push me off, the man following my lead by switching into a boxing mode, jumping from foot to foot.

“You should have died at the courthouse.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t. You should have died in prison.” I issued two more swings, knocking him onto his butt.

He shook his head several times, obviously dazed from the latest round. When he came at me again, it was like he’d turned into a wild animal.

But I was so hyped up on rage that I was crazed myself. With every punch that connected, and I was damn accurate, blood and bone spewed, the cracking sound as I crushed his nose and maybe his jaw creating a wide smile on my face.

“Go, boss,” Kristoff said from behind me. “Let us know if you need any help.”

I threw him a look, grinning like some kid. That gave Jericho the opportunity to issue another punch to my gut. But when he tried to kick me in the groin, all bets were off.

I twisted his leg until he cried out in pain, finally at the end of my rope. I grabbed him around the back of the neck, smashing his face into the brick as the heavy rain continued to fall.

“You fucked with the wrong people, Jericho. Don’t you know who I am?”

“A fucking loser. Someone who destroyed my life.”

I took a deep breath, the coppery taste of blood filling my mouth. “No, asshole. I’m the second in command of the most powerful mafia organization in the city. As I said, you fucked with the wrong man.”

I squeezed even harder, loving the strangled sounds he was making. Yet the fucker wouldn’t die. I’d either need to snap his neck or jam my weapon against his skull. My choice? Taking as much time as needed to use my martial arts skills, breaking the correct bones in his neck.

Then I heard her voice.

“Aleksander. I need you.”

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