Page 37 of Ruthless Vengeance
“You’ll never be alone again,” he murmurs against my temple.
Tears prick my eyes, but this time they’re not from sadness.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and tuck myself closer against him, letting his words sink in, letting the weight of them settle over me like a promise.
Chapter Ten
MARCO
The secondI get word on Ben’s location from Liam, I don’t hesitate. The fucker has already lived long enough, and it’s about time he pays for what he’s done.
I don’t tell Clara where I’m going. Even though I know she has no relationship with her brother anymore, they once did, which could count for something if it comes down to life or death.
I don’t need her trying to talk me out of what I’m about to do.
My mind is already made up, and nothing is going to change it. So, I grab my gun, slide my knife into its holster, and head out the door.
The location Liam sent through isn’t far from the warehouse where Tommaso was keeping Clara.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I think back to those days, when I thought I had lost her forever. It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet I have a feeling those memories will never fade.
I pull up outside a run-down apartment complex on the outskirts of the city. The brick exterior is faded and cracked, and most of the windows are boarded up.
It’s exactly the sort of place where a convict on the run would hide out.
When I head inside, I find it just as much of a dump as the outside.
The place reeks of piss and cigarettes, and I wrinkle my nose as I head up the two flights of stairs, before coming to a stop outside Ben’s door.
I roll my shoulders and crack my knuckles, before lifting my foot and kicking the fucker clean off its hinges.
The crack of splintering wood echoes through the small space.
The door crashes to the floor, revealing a dimly lit living room, with Ben standing in the center.
He looks like shit.
His face is unshaven, and he’s wearing clothes that are wrinkled and stained.
Not just that but even from across the room, I can tell that he reeks of alcohol.
He’s barely a shell of the smiling youth I saw in the pictures Liam gave me.
Ben’s eyes go wide as I step inside the apartment before he starts to back up, as if realizing why I’m here.
I scan the room once to make sure he’s alone, clocking the dirty dishes stacked high in the sink and the overflowing ashtray on the coffee table.
“This is where you’ve been hiding?” I shake my head. “Pathetic.”
Ben shrugs, doing his best to look unfazed by my sudden appearance. “What can I say? The city’s expensive.”
I’m not here to chit chat. I cross the room in a few strides, and then I’m slamming a fist straight into his stomach, watching with grim satisfaction as he doubles over, gasping for air.
But I’m not done. Not even close.
Sinking my fingers into his shirt, I yank him upright just so I can land another swift punch to his stomach, and then one to his ribs.
He grunts, but it’s not enough.
