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We spent hours on Hugo’s tail, keeping enough distance to seem like the taxi was just another random car in the city of New York. Bianca should be thankful I didn’t let her come along because this might have been the most boring sting operation ever. For the second in command to my brother, Hugo didn’t do much except go from one bar to another.
At three twenty-six, something finally happened. Hugo left the restaurant where he and Roman had been cooped up for the past hour, and from where we were parked down the street, I couldn’t see his face, but he left in a hurry. Fucking finally. After about twenty minutes of driving around, we made it to the Bronx, and I saw him parking the car and slamming his door furiously before bolting into a building that looked like it had seen better days.
I thanked the taxi driver for putting up with me the entire day, gathered my things and got out, but the entire time, my eyes were fixed on the building Hugo had disappeared in. This was it? This was where he came every week?
We were somewhere on White Plains Road, close to Gun Hill Station. The apartment building was typical for the Bronx, with scraped plaster and a cracked window at the bottom floor. This was not a nice place so what was he doing here? Meeting someone? A woman? Two women? Was he here to meet sisters ready to entertain him?
Curious and enraged, I pushed the entry door open and walked inside. The musty smell was the first thing that got to me before I felt the cold humidity. The entire place felt like a gigantic basement. I went to the stairs, and the second I touched the rail, I felt something sticky on my hand. I immediately second guessed my decision of coming here. I clutched my bag to my chest and started going up, careful not to touch the wall that was covered in mold, not knowing exactly what I was looking for. Hugo could have been in any of the apartments.
When I got to the third floor, I heard a loud thumping sound and stopped in my tracks. It came from behind a wooden door at my left. I listened closely, only to hear more bumping around and moans…and Hugo’s unmistakable low growl, a sound I had woken up to every morning for the past week. He was there. He was there enjoying himself with someone else.
Blinded by a fury that was melting my veins and clutching my gut, I threw away all my rationality and pushed open the door. I was ready to fight him and whatever whore he kept in this slump of a place, but my march came to a brisk stop when I stepped inside the cramped apartment and felt something wet at my feet. A man was trying to crawl to the door, desperate to escape, while Hugo was shadowing him with a dangerous looking crowbar in his hand.
When I looked down to see what I had stepped in, I was standing in the middle of a puddle of blood.
