Page 72 of Devil's Rage

Daniel

Somewhere, my knees were screaming in agony from hitting cement with full force. Somewhere, someone was shaking me and yelling my name, trying to haul me upright, but all I could see was the SUV vanishing in the distance, Sara’s terror and pain, the gag in her mouth, thefuckingstalker from two years ago waving at me over her head, and my father—

My father with a gun trained on Sara from the front seat, and a wide, demonic grin on his face.

I’d forgotten, I’d realized as I’d fallen to my knees, knowing that that was what the old man wanted—obedience, fear, and a sign of breaking—how evil that bastard really was.

And now he has Sara.

My stomach cramped and I dry heaved, spit in my throat and tears in my eyes. Someone hauled me upright and smacked me across the face. Pasquale.

“Get yourself together, asshole,” he shouted and shook me. “We still got time.”

Heavy and Artie joined us now, both breathing hard and white with rage, but looking to me for instruction, for next steps.

But my mind was blank. All I could see was Sara gazing at me with fear—terror for her situation, but more for me. As though she’d understood that my worst fear had played out in front of my eyes, and she wanted to shield me from it.

She will not die for me.The thought was a cool flame that calmed me, and I took a deep breath. Sal had limited options and allies. He also knew that we weren’t above throwing in with the Feds or cops to cut a deal and take him down. He wouldn’t drag this out—he didn’t have that luxury.

No, he wanted this settled fast—my stomach lurched as I realized what that fucking shithead was up to. This was getting back at me, yes, and trying to break me down, remind me of my place. But it was also a play for power.

“He wants the family,” I said. Artie, Pasquale, and Heavy all fell silent, which made me realize that they’d been trying to make plans as I’d disassociated on them.

“Using a woman—your woman, a fucking innocent civilian to do it?” Artie raged. “No one, no real gangster would ever do that shit.”

“I don’t think he cares,” I said. “No, I know he doesn’t.”

Heavy went pale. “He’ll start a gang war.” He shot a nervous glance at Pasquale and Artie. “Danny, there’s somethin’ I gotta tell you—”

“Not here,” I said. I’d realized that we were standing on a busy Boston street, in front of a café of gawking spectators, and that we couldn’t stay here. Someone might have already called the cops and sure enough, a siren wailed in the distance.

“We need a car,” I said.

“It’ll be here in a minute,” Pasquale said and hustled us away from the café, toward an alley.

My gaze snagged on the ground, the spilled coffee cup rolling around, and I leaned down, picking it up.Sarawas scrawled on the side of it, and I swallowed hard, then crushed it.

“Aw fuck,” Heavy said, and I saw he was toeing a busted phone with his boot. “This is hers, isn’t it?”

Shit.He had that stalker helping him, who was halfway decent with computers. Maybe more than that, since I suspected ZakaryFrole had helped my father bust out. There was no way the old man had done it on his own.

“How did the news not pick up on this?” I asked.

“It was a rumor,” Heavy said, and I slowly turned to him. He was standing there, feet braced wide and hands by his sides, as though readying for a punch. “But now I think the Feds were keeping it on the down low. They didn’t want to admit they fucked up.”

“Youknew?” I asked and took a step forward, grabbing Heavy’s shirt with hands that didn’t feel connected to my body. “How long—why didn’t you tell me, you’re supposed to be the one with half a goddamn brain, Basilio.”

“Sara convinced me not to,” Heavy said in a hoarse voice. “She—she was with those two when I found out, and I wasn’t thinkin’, I told ‘em, and Sara didn’t want you to know unless it was true. We’ve been trying to figure it out all week—”

I suddenly flashed back to the wedding, to the weird and intense conversation between Heavy, Pasquale, Artie, and Sara at the bar. The look that Sara had given me.

My heart convulsed and I turned away from Heavy, pressing a hand to my chest, wondering if I was having a heart attack, if I was dying.

“She cares about you, kid,” Artie said softly. “So much so that we ignored our instincts.”

“And we care about you, too, Danny,” Pasquale said. “We know how much you sacrifice for us, everything that you’ve done.”

“We’re gonna get her back,” Heavy said, and he gripped my shoulder. “And you two are gonna fix your shit.”

---