Page 88 of Ruthless Consequences

They’d knocked him around the house, destroying the work that’d been done, and beat him to a pulp. Then they’d pulled his pants down and used a staple gun, left by the crew, to nail his balls to his inner thigh.

I only hoped he was unconscious when they did that. I had no idea if Sonny had fought back or not, but he was always getting put down. Taking hit after hit for his daughters. I was fucking sick of it on his behalf. I also had something personal to resolve with Mo. He had my wife working in that place, knowing what I’d do if I found out.

Molly didn’t know where to touch Sonny, but when she did, he whined. I wasn’t sure if he could breathe through his nose. It was crushed. Then her eyes lifted and met mine. Her lips were pursed. She had something to say, but I had a feeling she was scared to say it.

Maybe because she’d just watched me kill three men. The first two went down right after my bullets pierced vital organs. I made the third—Mo—suffer for all of them. I felt a droplet of blood slide down my jaw and dribble from my chin.

She squared her shoulders. “Your wife’s gone. A girl in a car took her by gunpoint. She was parked down the street, lights out. I don’t know who, but her trunk bears a dent from my club. Aren went after them.”

My mind disconnected from my body for a second. It was like the connection had gotten severed, and when I screwed it on again, it still wasn’t right. I felt like I was on autopilot. I reached into my pocket. Pulled out my phone. Found the contact. He answered on the first ring.

Aren’s voice was in my ear. Telling me what had gone down. Shawna had taken my wife as collateral. For assurance. Nose would usually be the one Gallo would send. But he had a new guy, a younger guy out to make a name for himself, that he’d been sending in Nose’s place. They called him “The Head” because he didn’t mind busting them. Nose would have known better than to touch my wife. This new guy?

“Your cab drivable?”

“Yes, but no. Company.”

Company.Cops.

For a second, I thought about having him direct them to The Cigar Bar, but if the heat came down, Gallo’s man might do something drastic with my wife.

“Keep your phone close.” I hung up. I dialed another number that I hadn’t in a while. It rang, rang, rang, until I thought it was going to voicemail. He picked up on the last ring.

“This must be good,” he said, his deep voice close to a rumble.

“Uncle” I said, always using the more formal title with him. “I need a favor.”

Tigran Macaluso was in deep with the Armenians, but he did business with the Italians. To put it in terms of countries, the Italians and Armenians were allies. This was a personal situation, though, and I needed someone I could trust to deal with Sonny, and my wife, once I dealt with The Cigar Bar.

I didn’t talk to him much, though. Aren was the oldest, and Ma was in the middle. She was close to both of her brothers growing up, but Tigran was the baby, and she took care of him like he was hers. Aren was the son who swayed with the direction of the wind. He was happy being a cabbie and being there when anyone needed him. But Tigran was always into criminal shit. Michele knew it, and as always, didn’t think highly of his choices. But he tolerated him for Ma’s sake. Until one day, when Ma was pregnant with me, Tigran’s house was attacked. A bullet grazed Ma’s neck, and Michele was done.

Ma kept in touch with him, but it was never the same. Tigran respected Michele’s boundaries because he said Michele was good to his sister, and she loved him. He didn’t want to come in between that. I could always count on him, though. I only had to say the word.

“What needs to be done?”

I gave him a brief recap of the situation and what I needed. He went quiet for a second before he said in Armenian that it was time to ride. I assumed he was talking to his men. I turned to Molly when the phone went dead.

“Tigran is coming here?”

“Yeah,” I said, texting her the number. “He’s going to get help for Sonny. Keep that number. Keep him updated.”

She nodded. “He needs it, as soon as possible.”

“You know Tigran?”

“Somewhat,” she said. “I’ve seen him before. Met him once when he came to visit Carine when she was sick. Michele was at the bakery.”

“Only open the door for him. He’s going to get an ambulance and have Sonny taken to a certain hospital. He’s going to stay with him until I can finish this.”

I picked up one of the dead guy’s guns, making sure it was ready to go. I handed it to Molly. She tested the weight of it in her hands before she nodded.

“He doesn’t deserve this,” she said, looking at Sonny again. “He never even told them—”

“Give me your keys,” I said. I was going to make sure Sonny and his daughters had a chance to resolve the lies between them. I refused to let my wife live with knowing the truth, but not being able to tell him that she did. She deserved that, and so did he.

She dug in the pocket of her robe and pulled out an old tissue. “Shit,” she said, throwing it on the floor. Her hands were covered in blood and shaking. She dug back in again. “Here.”

I stuck them in my pocket. “Tigran will go with Sonny, because Gallo might feel the need to finish the job. Two of his men will take you to your place. Get Minnie and your sister and get out.”

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