Page 75 of Devious Kingpin
I stilled. “What?” I asked, my voice dangerously cold.
“It was Brandon’s idea. The rest of us just came along for the ride.”
My hands balled into fists. Suddenly the entire room was coated in red. Red walls. Red floors. The fucker stained with red in front of me. Static rushed in my ears. I threw myself at him, raining punches down on his face, his chest, his stomach. I beat every inch of him I could reach.
The DiLustros were known for their tempers and mine just flared to its worst. It was what made us good at killing. It was what made us good at being the kingpins.
“Dante, stop!” Illias Konstantin’s hand came to my shoulder, holding me back but I shoved him away with a roar. My fist flew through the air, ready to connect with Travis’s face again but he caught it.
“Their. Names.” His voice penetrated the murderous rage. “Get their names, then beat him to death for all I care.”
He was right. I needed their names. Why did Juliette give me only one name? Maybe she was ashamed. Jesus fucking Christ! Anger blazed through my veins. My fists burned, ready for another round of punching this fucker.
I swallowed the rage, its ball searing my airway. My vision cleared and I uttered one word through my teeth. “Names,” I demanded.
“What names?” Travis spurted. He stunk like piss, beer, and bad blood.
“The names of the boys that were in that room,” I ground out. “All of them.”
The fucker had the nerve to start crying. I kept still, not trusting myself to keep from lunging at him and beating him until the light left his eyes.
“Names! Now!” Konstantin barked, probably sensing I was ready to snap.
“Brandon Dole. Sam Dallas.”
My knuckles throbbed. My rib cage burned from the need to tear him to pieces. The first name sounded familiar. The second didn’t. But I was too pumped up to think clearly.
“No others?” Konstantin asked.
“No, that’s it. I swear.”
“What did you do to her?” I growled. By the look on the fucker’s face, I wasn’t sure he’d answer me.
He gulped. “We were at a party. We saw her come in by herself and we thought we’d have some fun, you know? We slipped something into her drink, then took her upstairs. She seemed willing. Just needed something to relax her.”
“That’s it,” I repeated icily as red slowly seeped into my vision again. “That’s it.”
“Yes, yes. I swear,” he cried, shaking like a leaf.
Then I let the rage take me. I lunged on the fucker. I punched him, over and over again. My fists burned with each hit. I hit flesh and bone, even the floor beneath us in my blinding rage. I punched him until I couldn’t breathe anymore and my ribs felt broken. My chest heaved, my knuckles split.
I gasped for breath as my eyes met the empty stare of Travis fucking Xander. There was no need to check his pulse. He was dead. My chest heaved, my ears still buzzed with adrenaline. My rage felt unsatisfied. I wanted to kill more. Two more men, specifically.
“You okay?” Konstantin watched me with a guarded expression. Like I was an unhinged beast ready to attack unprovoked. He wasn’t far off. He regarded me with a penetrating intensity that set my teeth on edge.
Falling back on my ass, I sat on the floor, blood all around me. I lowered my eyes to find my clothes drenched, my arms covered in blood. My fingers ached and my knuckles were bruised, crimson covering them.
I leaned back against the wall, my knees raised and my forehead resting against them. My chest constricted until every breath was a struggle. My head fell back, images my mind conjured mixed with another torture I’d witnessed. I hadn’t realized how badly I had truly fucked up until now. This exact moment.
“What are you going to do now?” Konstantin asked. I lifted my head, meeting his cautious gaze. So many different emotions slammed through me. Guilt. Rage. Pain.
It was all fucking wrong. A wave of despair rose in me.
“Dante.” Konstantin’s calm voice penetrated through the fog of despair. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up? Then come to my place for dinner.”
I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
“I fucked up,” I rasped. I drugged my wife. I was no better than this fucker and his friends. No, I didn’t touch her, but I made her marry me in her condition. “Jesus, I fucked up.”
