Page 98 of Absolution

“The other priests chose not to look away. That’s why they never lasted very long here.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “We may believe in the same God, but you’d be surprised to know how vastly different our opinons can be.”

Sergio jumps to his feet, wiping the dust from his jeans. “Okay. Get ready.” His lips slide into a devious grin. “Showtime.”

38

Damon

Rope bites into my wrists, the muscles in my shoulders feeling as if they could peel right from the bone. It’s a wonder they don’t snap, the way they’re stretched over my head, with the tips of my shoes scraping across the concrete below me. My eye throbs with the punches that’ve been thrown in amusement. Air saws in and out of my lungs, brushing over each fractured rib, and one of the torturers took some joy in tearing apart my stab wound, paying homage to Miguel for me fighting back.

Through the blur of my torment, the haze of an oncoming blackout, I stare down at the drops of blood falling from my face.

I’ve passed out twice already. Once, when they jabbed an ice pick beneath my fingernail. The other time, all I saw was a wrench coming at me. No idea what they ultimately did with it. Only that I woke up with half my face going numb.

Now, I just wait for death.

The crux of Jesus being nailed to the cross was not that he was so helpless as to die for our sins, but that he refused to exercise the power given to him to prevent it.

I could’ve avoided all of this shit. Kept my head low, my nose out of it, and I’d probably be in bed with Ivy right now, or sipping a glass of whiskey. I wonder if any father, upon finding out that the man who paid to have his family murdered, could possibly avoid the temptation of vengeance.

I personally wouldn’t have blamed God for raining down hell for the murder of his only Son.

“Revenge is the worst kind of torture, isn’t it? There’s no purpose behind it, other than the joy of watching someone suffer.” Hands behind his back, Gordon paces in front of me, somehow looking smaller than before. This whole time, I made the criminal in my head out to be this massive, untouchable mystical creature, and he’s turned out to be nothing more than an aging man, who probably eats prunes to stay regular. “I didn’t know it was you, to be honest. Feel kinda stupid about it now. But, in all fairness, the whole damn state of California thought you were dead.”

“You killed my wife and daughter.”

“I paid for the murder of you and your wife. Your little one was just a … casualty.”

“She was more than a fucking casualty, you piece of shit!”

“You’re right. It’s a damn shame when a child has to die for the stupidity of the parent.”

Grinding my teeth, I try to ignore the sharp stabs of pain that strike my skull. I have no argument for Val. I only understand her motivations, but not even I would’ve been so foolish as to go up against dangerous criminals. Perhaps a consequence of having been raised by one: I was never so ambitious as to save the world from them.

“It’s unfortunate that it was your wife who dealt with your father’s books. In some ways, I blame him for her death. If it hadn’t been me, someone else would’ve come after her, because there ain’t a man on his payroll that’d have wanted the FBI banging on the door. What I did wasn’t personal.”

Through a painful exhale of defeat, I sag against the ropes. “Kill me, if you’re going to kill me.”

“Oh, I’m definitely going to kill you. I just gotta work through all these emotions, first. The betrayal hit me pretty hard.” He twists around toward the three brawny gang members standing behind him, ones who carried out my punishment on his behalf, and jerks his head. “Give me some alone time, boys.” The minute the men step outside of the room, he turns his attention back on me. “Thought we’d have a heart to heart, you and me.”

“You killed Mac, too.”

“You see, in my line of work, it’s important to eliminate all traces of a family name. It’s like an infection. If you don’t treat it entirely, it comes back stronger. More resistant. Hellbent on taking out everything in it’s path. If cancer wasn’t already killing your old man, I’d have taken him out, too. Lord knows he tried coming after me a few times over the years. Every hitman he sent ended up in a shallow grave.” This is news to me, as I’d have never guessed my father would’ve bothered after the way I left New York. “Calvin wasn’t stupid. Didn’t take much convincing to come work for me instead.”

“How did you know it was me?”

Waving his finger in front of me, he shakes his head and chuckles. “Now, that’s the tricky part. I have what are calledpajaritosin a number of places where I do business. And in New York? One of my little birds described a man who sounded a lot like you entering your father’s home. The one in LA told me of a woman, whom I look forward to meeting after our … little session here.”

“She has nothing to do with this.”

“She has information. Information is power in my world.”

“Let her go. She’ll leave the country, and you’ll never have to think about her again.”

“Oh, she’ll definitely be leaving the country.” He strokes his beard, and the smile on his face sends a zap of tension through my muscles, begging me to break these ropes and smash it in, just like I did his grandson. “I have friends in Russia who love buying pretty little things like your girlfriend, like real estate. Buy and sell. Buy and sell. And Ariceli, too.”

“What did you do with her?”

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