Page 100 of Bad Men

The vivid image of her big eyes peering up at me fragmented with the high shriek of my phone buzzing in my pocket. The sound increased once freed from the fabric and lifted to my ear. I moved away from the group, mainly Alejandro.

“What?” I snapped, annoyed by the disturbance.

There was a long moment of silence where I could only catch whispers of labored breaths. Nero met my gaze with a questioning one of his own, but I only shrugged.

I was about to hang up when a male voice stilled me.

“Go on,” he said the way one might coax a child, “tell him what I told you.”

My confusion tangled with a weird knot in my stomach, but I told myself it could still just be a wrong number.

“Who is this?”

Nero motioned me to put it on speaker. I did, but only because I had no idea what I was listening to.

“Speak or I’ll break your other finger.”

My gaze shot up to Nero. His were already alert and focused, staring at my phone as if answers might appear on the screen.

Someone cried out. Something in the background groaned. A chair, maybe.

“Fuck you!” a female voice sobbed, the sound painted in agony, but even then, even hoarse and weak, I recognized it.

“If you won’t, I will,” said the male voice in a calm, almost amused sing-song.

Mia gave a jittery whine of someone fighting back the urge to beg, a stubborn moan of defiance that punched me in the gut.

“Fine.” Was all the warning the voice gave before the air was splintered by the shattering of bones and Mia’s scream.

My blood went cold.

The very world around me tilted and plunged into a pit of raw rage so blinding, I couldn’t hear past the roar of blood in my ears or see beyond the red vail, but I was acutely aware of every noise Mia made, every tear she spilled. I was entwined with her agony on a level that shouldn’t have existed. Another plain of reality where it was as clear and aggressive as if it were being done to me.

“Would you like to try again?” the voice purred.

Her ragged gasps for air ripped through the line, through space and time to ring in my skull.

“Okay,” she choked at last. “Okay, please, I’ll … I’ll do it.” Her breathing grew louder, clearer as if the phone was hovering right up to her face. “Davien? Nero? He … he wants me to tell you that he’s going to kill me if you don’t agree to meet him.” She broke off with a hiccup. “He promises to let me go if you agree.”

“What else?” the voice prodded when she trailed off.

“He … he…” Something in her voice shifted with a raspy inhale. It wasn’t pain and weakness, but solid and hateful when she snarled, “He’s a fucking liar. It’s a trap! Don’t—”

The crack of a fist connecting with flesh resonated like gunfire, masking Mia’s cry of pain.

That jerked me back to my senses. My knuckles whitened around the plastic, releasing a series of cracks into the deafening silence broken only by Mia’s gasps.

Fury shook my voice when I lifted the speaker to my lips. “I don’t know who you are yet, but I am going to make you wish you were dead.”

“Well, you better hurry. I don’t know how much longer Mia’s going to be able to keep this up.”

With that, the voice rattled off an address and the line immediately went dead.

Chapter Eighteen — Nero

Alejandro had asked me once how I managed to do the job I did for as long as I had and never been caught. The truth was that I was careful. I left no evidence, no witnesses. I was exceptional at remaining calm and seeing the bigger picture from all the necessary angles. But none of that registered anymore. Racing through the city with Dav behind the wheel and seemingly endless miles between us and Mia, I obliterated every one of my rules. All I knew was that this time, this life I would take without question, would not be clean. It would not be humane. He would suffer and there would be evidence everywhere. I had no feelings about it. I had no feelings at all.

Not fear.

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