Page 55 of Mr. Kelly

River is a beautiful woman, but he should have set his sights on someone other than my sister-in-law. He’ll wish he never met her by the time he takes his last breath. We continue to stare at each other, both of us furious for different reasons. He thinks this crown was handed to me, but the fact is, I took it. I had to put my father away because he makes me look…gentle. He doesn’t give a damn about anyone or anything. I’d bet he’s a sociopath, but I can’t prove it. No one wants to get in his head. The overflow from him turns my mind into a minefield. One wrong move, and I’ll explode.

He’s the reason Theodore knows so much about torture and why I avoid it. It was Theodore’s role to get the information, so he learned the patience for such methods. My father loved torturing people just because he could. He’d stand by andwatch someone suffer for no other reason than being bored. I don’t need his method outside of getting my way. I don’t gain satisfaction from making someone suffer, but it doesn’t mean that I won’t bring suffering to them.

After all, it all ends the same for everyone, irreversible death. I’d prefer to get them there sooner and go on with my day. Lucky for Surly, that is my model. My dad is the reason why some lowly thug like Surly thinks he can challenge my birthright. Just because I have the emotional capacity to care about someone, he considered me defective and weak.

I could shoot someone in the head, killing them in seconds, and he’d bitch about me not choosing to slit their throat and watch them bleed out. He didn’t get that he wasn’t normal. My father didn’t have the capacity to care either. He just saw it as me not having the stomach to be him. I didn’t have theanythingto be him. It was never a goal of mine, but I adapted to meet myself in the middle. I don’t kill blindly, but I’ll happily make an example out of someone.

Today, it’s Surly. Although I know his opinion isn’t entirely his fault since my father bad-mouthed me in the streets by publicly calling me weak, he's still going to be treated like I'm proving myself.

What the rest of the world doesn’t know is that I killed some of my father's biggest enemies and allies and framed him for it. He had to either be haunted and start a war in the process or take the fall and stew in jail. The sicko actually respected me after that. In hindsight, it would have been faster just to kill him.

After I took the reins, I decided that I wasn't going to behave like him. I'll consider deals and mercy but remind people that I’ll kill them.

Surly rises slowly, as my men drag out Mario to what will be a terrifying death. I wonder how much of his skin will melt off before he dies. Well, it’s not my problem.

“You’re nothing without your men or guns.”

I withhold a chuckle, because he’s not the first to say some bullshit like that to me. Instead of responding, I put my gun on the table and raise my hands as an invitation to make his first move. Words are pointless. I have to show him the error of his judgment. No one knows what it’s like to be raised by Emanuele Tesio, not even Theodore knows everything. I don’t fight for fun. I’m beyond prepared for these types of challenges.

Surly advances, far too confident in his skills. I allow him to land one of his slow punches. He splits my lip. It hurts without the devastation he thinks it’d cause. I’ve been hit much harder. His next blow to my abdomen makes me bend over, but laugh in a way he didn’t expect. Pain was a normal thing for me. It’s like being greeted by an old companion.

My laugh throws him off, and he hesitates with his fist in the air, his sneer frozen in place while his eyes carry a shadow of confusion. I wipe the blood off my lip as he regains his composure. Surly cracks his neck, then brings up his fists like they’re going to help him. Pain fuels my rage.

I block his next blow with my right forearm and follow up with an elbow to his jaw. It’s a hit he didn’t expect since it’s not my dominant hand. I don’t let up. He had his fun, and now it’s time for mine.

My rage flows through me, showing him every emotion I felt while River was missing; concern for her and my nephew, fear that losing them will wreak Theodore, worry that this time I wasn’t fast enough, powerful enough to find her, and fury towards the asshole who dared to disrespect me and Theodore.

Every hit is meant to maim. He’s not meant to recover from fighting me. No one is meant to recover after fighting me. This will be a reminder to the rest. I attack his ribs until he’s howling in pain. Moving to his arm, I smirk at the satisfying crack of hisbone breaking. I step back, allowing him to sway in pain. His right arm hangs limp at his side. Useless.

Surly tries to limp forward as if he has a chance to win this. I respect his determination. Fear lines his features as he realizes what those before realized when it’s too late. That part of my father resides within me. I’m not a joke.

“This is why I don’t give speeches,” I tell him as I grab his jaw. “I know who the fuck I am.”

I shove his head while kicking his legs out from under him. He hits the ground hard with his head bouncing off the concrete. His eyes roll back for a second, but he’s too stubborn to pass out. It’s fine. His lights are about to go out forever.

Normally, I’d shoot him and move on, but it doesn’t send a devastating enough message. Dropping to my knees, I zone out, prepared to do what I’ve rarely done before; beat him to death. He won’t bother River anymore. He won’t disrupt Theodore’s family ever again.

One of my men taps me. I don’t check to see who did it. It brings me out of the fog enough to wipe Surly’s blood off my face. I shake my hands as the pain resurfaces. Roaring, I slam his lifeless body on the ground one more time.

Standing, I wipe my hands on my pants, then push my hair out of my face. It only takes a few seconds for my breathing to return to normal. My men drag out his body, leaving a trail of his blood behind. Everything is as it should be.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

RIVER

I must have zonedout because I jolt when Teddy touches me. The worry and frustration in his blue eyes saddens me because I don’t have control over the reaction, at least not right now. He closes the car door and slowly scoots closer to me, testing my reaction.

My bottom lip trembles, causing him to pause. His face crumples with pain, which opens the floodgates again. I’m not scared of him, but I know my reaction is misleading. Tentatively, Teddy touches my shoulder, and I lean in his direction as I cry. Soon, I’m in his lap with both of his arms holding me tightly. I rest my forehead in the crook of his neck as I try to find composure.

“Fuck, baby. I’m never leaving your side again," he vows. I sniffle as the SUV starts moving. Teddy’s scent works its way into my consciousness and provides a calm that I couldn’t give myself. “I’d get rid of him again if I could just because he made you feel this way. It’s something I never wanted you to experience.”

The conviction in his words and the soft kisses he places on my face soothe me like a balm to my bruised comfort.

“I should have listened to my instinct and went back into the house,” I whisper.

Teddy cups my face so I can look him in the eyes. Eyes I feared I’d never see again. “While I support the statement because I always want you to trust your instincts, I don’t support the thought. Don’t you fucking dare blame yourself for this. The people who are responsible for all of this are paying for their sins.” He rests his forehead against mine. “I should have told you about Luciano. It’s more my fault than yours.”

“Told me?” I repeat, because I don’t know what he means.

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