Page 41 of Sin and Redemption

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?

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