Page 2 of Devoted

“I said,‘where the fuck is he holding Nico?’”

He claws at my calf, gasping for air, his eyes ready to burst out of their sockets. I release the pressure of my foot from this Falcone fucker’s neck.

He spits a mouthful of blood on the leg of my Armani pants. I sigh and press back down on his throat with my body weight.

“Let’s try this again. Last chance. Where is–”

I pause as gunshots ring out to my left, my ex-marine right-hand man, Grayson, is firing some asshole’s brains out. He gives me a menacing smirk as he wipes the blood spatter from his forehead.

“These dumb shits don’t know a thing, boss,” Grayson grunts.

The jackass under my foot coughs. “Oh, sorry.” I lift my knee momentarily, leaving him wheezing on the warehouse floor, and I crouch down, pulling my knife from the sheath on my ankle.

“Where was I? Ahhh, yes.”

Tears stream down his cheeks. I chuckle as a dark patch appears on his gray sweatpants.

“Don’t worry, it will all be over soon,” I whisper while pressing the tip of the blade under his chin.

“Where the fuck are they holding Nico?”I grab his greasy hair and tilt his head back.

“I-I don’t know,” he croaks out.

I half believe him. Marco has an army of utterly useless men, and this one is no different.

“Well, that is a shame.”I stab my blade up through his throat, right into the base of his brain, and slide it back out as he goes limp under my grip.

After wiping my blade on his sweater, I stand, dusting off my suit.

“Frankie?” I call out.

“It’s all clear, boss,” his voice echoes through the large building.

He comes around the corner with a grin, holding a handful of phones. His kill count multiplied tonight by the looks of it.

“Get those delivered to Enzo. Let him work his magic.” With all the people here, I find it hard to believe they wereallclueless.

Frankie nods, running a crimson stained hand through his chestnut hair.

“Are we ready to light this shit up?” Grayson asks from behind me.

“I wouldn’t dare stop you,” I chuckle.

Commissioner O’Reilly will no doubt have something to say about yet another warehouse fire. But it’s either that or twenty dead bodies for him to deal with.

Grayson douses the building in gasoline while Frankie and I wait in my Bentley. I spark up a cigarette and take a deep inhale, resting my head back.

Another night, another dead end. But, one step closer to ridding New York of the Falcones.

Frustration forms a hard knot in my head as the flames start to consume the building. Grayson jumps into the back seat, slamming the door shut with about as much grace as a six foot four killing machine can do.

“All good?” I look at him through the rear-view mirror.

“Nothing like a burn out to end the night. I can’t go for a drink to celebrate, though; I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”He shifts to pull out his cell and glance at it before meeting my eyes.

“You mean, you’ve got someone you need to be in?” I retort, biting back a grin.

Frankie sniggers next to me while Grayson’s shooting me a death glare.

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