Page 88 of Something Borrowed

His line rings.

Luca’s voice fills my car.

“Rufino Vece, I was wondering where you were and when I’d get a call from you.” His dry, emotionless voice fills me with rage.

“This is your last chance Luca. Give my wife back to me or I will take things from you.” I warn him.

“You can try - but the agreement I had with your brothers - not tokillyou - that was a onetime thing. If I see you again, I will put a bullet between your eyes and savor the moment.”

“Where is my wife?” I ask again ignoring the threat.

“Have a nice evening, Rufino.”

The lines goes dead, and silence sits heavily on my shoulders.

He made his choice.

Now I will make mine. He can’t say I didn’t give him a chance.

I flick back two screens and the list of properties is back on my dashboard.

I guess I’m starting at the top and working my way down the list.

His commercial properties take the first position on the list.

That good. It will be a bigger loss for him.

More money. More annoyance.

It’s going to be a long night of painting this town red.

Before I make my way to the industrial side of town, I stop at my storage unit. The trunk pops open with the click of a button, so I can load it with five-gallon cans of gas. Enough to fill the entire space. The more the merrier.

I tap my pocket checking to see if my new lighter is still there.

The reassuring shape of it shifts against my hand.

I’m ready.

Slamming the trunk closed I climb back into the car. The smell of gasoline is already creeping into the front area.

It’s like an entire year has passed since I locked Verity in the trunk of this same car.

I chuckle, remembering how pissed off she was with me.

“I’m coming, little vixen.” I whisper, pulling away from the storage unit. I tap the first address on the list and a map opens up to show me the best route.

Thirteen minutes. Closer than I expected.

My music blasts at full volume to silence my thoughts so that I’m not distracted, I arrive at the address in no time at all. The building is dark and closed up. It’s an office of some kind. But not a normal office where normal people work. It’stoo undercover. Too dark and closed up. There is no logo or company name on the outside to welcome clients in.

I carry two bottles of gasoline with me towards the back of the building. My eyes scanning in every direction I’m on high alert. No one can stop me.

The climb up the fire escape isn’t easy with my hands full, but I make it work, tossing the bottles onto the level above me before I pull myself up.

On the fourth floor, one from the top, I kick open a window and use my sleeve to bash the broken glass clear from the frame so that I can climb through it without cutting myself. An alarm blares from the ground floor below me somewhere. A blue light flashes into the black night. I have seven minutes before this party is no longer private. Seven minutes to get this done.

Inside I find myself in a filing room. Lots of paper. Paper burns.

---