“Fuck you. Give me my property.”
My finger hovers over the trigger. A phone rings…I realize it’s mine, and pulling it out of my pocket, I can see it’s Arthur calling.
“What?” I answer it on speaker with anger wrapped around my furious tone. I don’t really want to speak to him, at the moment. My brother needs to die, and I have to be the one to do it.
“He has information,” Arthur tells me. “There’s another girl missing.”
“He want’s Megan.” I’m not about to let my brother walk away from this runway alive. Not while he still wants the one thing he can never have.
“He won’t get her. You know how to see to that. Send a message instead.” Arthur’s reply leaves me little choice. It’s an order, and one I must obey.
“Please,” I entreat.
“Killing him won’t make her any safer. Until all those involved in trafficking are brought to justice, Megan and many other young women will remain in danger. Mordred is still your little brother. He was young and vulnerable and corrupted by the true evil: your father. There will be other men like your father out there, preying on the weak and innocent. Now, we need to use Mordred and the information he possesses to save others. You’ve saved Megan, and need to move on and focus on the next job. That is an assassin’s life. That is your life. Leave Mordred to me.”
The line goes silent. Megan appears at my side, and I run a hand down her face. She whimpers but leans forward and kisses me.
“I love you,” her words blow me away. “Arthur is right. I’m safe.” She looks down at the man on the floor at her feet. “He’s the one cowering before me, now.”
Bors comes over to us. He’s retrieved the axe I keep in my truck. I’m not fussy about my weapons. I carry anything I can use to cause as much destruction as possible. He hands it to me.
“Send a message, Brother.”
His use of the word ‘brother’ is telling. The Cavalieri may not be family by blood, but they are my brothers in every other way I need. The men hold Mordred down, and Bors holds my brother’s arm out. Megan places her hand on mine, and we raise the axe together before bringing it down in one swift action and severing my brother’s hand. He screams and then passes out, his pain threshold clearly not matching that of Megan’s. We do the same to his other hand. Bors collects the extremities and offers them to me, but I shake my head.
“Burn them,” I tell him, and he nods at me.
I drop the axe and wrap my arm around Megan.
“Let’s go home.”