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He mutters what I think is a “please don’t,” but I can’t be sure beneath the gag. Nor do I really give a fuck. The guy dies tonight, and that’s the end of it.
I throw another punch, just because it feels so damned good. Nothing releases the rage like the feel of skin on skin and the sick crunch of bone. The knife is quicker and more expedient but just doesn’t hold as much satisfaction.
Just to test my theory, I slice another gash across his chest, creating an X. More blood gushes down his shredded shirt. Nope, not as good as the punch. I deliver another blow to the center of the X I’ve crafted, and my fist comes away covered in crimson.
Another muffled gasp echoes through the hallway. He’s biting at the gag, swinging his head from side to side. The cuts are shallow like Papà taught me, the perfect way to extend the torture. I sink the next one in deeper, just between the third and fourth ribs and dangerously close to his liver.
The thrill is waning, the monster retreating to the dark depths, and a part of me just wants to get this over with. Which is very odd. The usual gratification is missing.
And now I’m pissed.
Jerking the knife out, I wave it in front of his face. Beads of sweat roll down his forehead into his glossy eyes. Tears and snot snake down his cheeks, and I can’t seem to derive a single ounce of the usual pleasure.
A trickle of water draws my attention to the crumbling asphalt. A pool of piss collects between the man’s feet. The crotch of his cargo pants darkens, and the pungent odor of urine reaches my nostrils.
My nose crinkles, nothing but disgust filling my black heart.
I take a step back and revel in the fear carving up the man’s features. I pause for an endless moment, waiting for that high I usually feel, the excitement of taking a life, of holding something so precious in the palm of my hand. But I feel nothing.
Nothing but empty.
And I know there’s only one thing that will fill that void.
Now I’m fucking terrified.
My fingers tighten around the worn wooden handle, and I slice the blade across the guy’s throat. A fountain of blood spurts out when I sever the carotid artery, and I barely jerk back in time to avoid the splatter.
The Red Dragon sags to the ground, the light in his dark eyes extinguishing almost instantly. By the time he hits the floor, vacant orbs stare into the pitch sky.
“Save a seat for me in hell,bastardo.”
CHAPTER29
EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE MOB BOSS
Rose
For someone who was so concerned with my safety before he fucked me, Dante sure as hell seems mighty fine with passing me off to someone else after the fact. I huff out a breath as I stare at the text message from my dad, standing in front of my new locker in the employee lounge at Palestra. I’d begged the manager to assign me a new one after the dead rose incident, but I’d had to make up some stupid excuse about it smelling funny. I don’t need everyone at my place of work to know how screwed up my life is. Maisy knowing is bad enough.
Glancing at the screen again, I type out a quick response to my dad. He’s been asking me to come out and visit since I missed Christmas with the family. Maybe a day trip out to Long Island is exactly what I need. Too bad I can’t afford to take more days off.
I glance over my shoulder to find Tony lingering just outside the lounge door. His big head fills the small glass window. I should be happy I have a new bodyguard because at least this one lets me go to the bathroom alone, but I can’t help my stupid, weak heart from missing the overbearing Italian.
Any normal, self-respecting girl would’ve been happy to get rid of him after the way he ghosted me. How the man could avoid me so well when I live in his own damned apartment is beyond me. I spend nights in my bed wondering if he’s filling Caroline’s. Because where else could he be at that hour?
I release a frustrated breath and slam my locker door closed. Today will be my first day back at Dr. Winchester’s office after my extended vacation, and a part of me is glad to get back into a normal routine. But the other part can’t help but think of Mark. What if he follows me there? What if he gets in somehow?
Tony won’t be able to shadow me like he does at Palestra because of patient confidentiality, and there is no way I’m admitting what happened with Dr. Mark to my boss. Assuming it’s him.
“Hey!”
I nearly jump out of my skin as I whirl around and find a grinning Maisy. “Oh, hi.” I clap my hand across my chest to keep my heart from popping out.
“I’m so sorry, sweety, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I wave a nonchalant hand like I hadn’t almost had a heart attack. “Oh, no worries. You just surprised me.” I haul my tote bag over my shoulder and turn toward the door. “I have to run though, I’m back at the office today.”
“Oh, right.” She swings her designer purse higher up on her shoulder and follows me to the door. “I’m actually leaving too. Doctor’s appointment in the Upper East Side. We can walk together if you want.”
