Page 94 of From My Past
“Go check on Skipper. Call in the squad and have them sweep for others. I’ll take care of him.” I order and Bryan runs off with a nod.
“Now,” I say with a snarl, turning all my anger and rage to the one lone guy. “Who the fuck do you work for?”
He couldn’t possibly be the man in charge, I could see the fear in his eyes as he tried and failed to hide it. He didn’t say anything, but put his hands up in a fighting stance.
“I’d answer him if I was you. He’s not exactly known for his patience towards assholes who attack him.” Trent said, crossing his arms. “Then again, neither am I.”
The guy stayed quiet, just waiting.
“Fine.” I snapped and threw out the first punch messily, giving the guy enough time to deflect if and return with a punch of his own. When he did, I grabbed his hand, twisted and pulled him into a choke hold while trapping his other hand behind his back and Trent pulled the mask off.
“Joseph.” Trent said roughly. “You weaselly little fucker.”
My heart seems to simultaneously stop and eat even harder in my chest.
He has a cheeky fucking grin on his face, like the cat that got the cream, and it sets me on edge. His skin was clear of bruising so he must have just hidden while the rest of his team did the dirty work.
Like a coward.
“What do you want?” I snap, my hand going to his throat. He didn’t even flinch, didn’t move to protect himself whatsoever.
I felt my hackles raise, and my eyes narrow.
He wasn’t here to hurt us or take us back to the Garzinos…he was there to send a message.
One that I’d fucked up.
“Nothing more than to see the look on your face when you figure it out.” He says with a cocky grin. “Figure out you’ve left her all alone. Figure out that it was me who you wasted these precious seconds on. Call it payback for knocking me out.”
The elevator opened and Bryan ran out, “Skipper didn’t contact us.” He said breathlessly and a few other guys followed him out. They were checking their guns, waiting on orders from me.
I turn to Joseph slowly, all the pieces clicking into place. “You slimy motherfucker.”
“I wouldn’t waste time on insults if I was you. I might be running back to Talia before someone else finds her.” He smirks, like he has absolutely nothing to lose.
Dread fills my body. I’ve played right into their trap and somehow, they’ve discovered the safehouse. I walk quickly over to Cillian, glad he’s here to back me up, and wordlessly he hands me his loaded gun. Without another word, I take it and shoot Joseph square between the eyes without further question.
His body drops to the floor before the blood splatters fall.
I’ve killed before, killed in cold blood, without mercy or any question. I’ve killed good people and truly despicable people, but I’ve always had some reaction to it as soon as I pull the trigger. With Joseph, I felt nothing but relief. And I couldn’t even dwell on it for an extra minute.
“Get the unconscious back to the Italian’s door. Leave a fucking message that we are not to be messed with. Dispose of the fucking waste. Bryan, Trent and Cillian, you’re with me.” I bark orders and run to my car, hoping I can get to Talia in time.
I hear them hustle to keep up with me as I rip the driver door open. “Hurry the fuck up!” I roar, smacking the hood with my palm.
The three guys break into a sprint and slid into the car in record time. I barely let the doors close before I peeled out of the garage, burning the rubber of my tires before driving as fast as I possibly can. I had to make up time because I sure as hell wasn’t going to drive the hour and a half at a normal, legal pace.
“Holy fuck, man.” Trent says from the passenger seat.
“Did you not hear what he said?” I yell. Emotions are high and I can’t for one minute have one of my three closest people suggesting I slow down. I will 100% lose my shit.
“You’ll not be able to help her if you’re fucking roadkill, Kieron.” Cillian said from the back seat.
“Every goddamn moment I’m driving, means another moment she’s in his fucking hands.”
“I know man, I get it. But you’re going to kill us driving 110 miles per hour, not to mention if we get pulled over and have to take time to deal with all that bullshit.” Bryan pipes in.
“Then we’d fucking call Kellan!” My voice is boomed in the small cab and I’m aware that our phones are being monitored and tapped by the Italians but I was done with their rational excuses to get me to slow down.
