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Brian looked petrified. “Wh-why?”
Salvatore moved swiftly, smacking Brian up the back of the head. “Are you fucking stupid, or what? Didn’t you learn anything from the salt?” He gripped Brian’s hair, wrenching his head back. “Answer the fucking question!”
Brian cried out again, like the little bitch he was, but he finally stammered, “Ri-right. It was my right ha-hand.”
Roman glanced at Sal as he rose to his feet. “Would you please untie Dr. Mathers?”
Brian looked confused as his hands were untied first, followed by the ropes around his chest. He slumped forward, breathing heavily and rubbing his wrists. He looked at the door, which Abel had left open a crack. Roman smiled unpleasantly. “Oh, I dare you to try.”
In the end, Brian disappointed them all by staying put. Roman could see the regret in his eyes, though, when Abel walked back in carrying an axe. “Other than a meat cleaver, this was the best I could do,” Abel said, passing the axe to Roman.
Morrigan raised her hand as if they were in a classroom. “I’ll take the cleaver.”
“It’s dull as hell. That’s why I went with the axe from beside the fireplace,” Abel explained.
Morrigan shrugged negligently. “Dull won’t be a problem to deal with his cock. In fact, it will be better.”
This time, when Abel left, Brian’s fight-or-flight response took over, and he charged from his seat. He ran with his head down like a linebacker, aiming directly for Roman. Unfortunately, he was not a linebacker, and he ended up on his back on the ground when Roman easily side-stepped and Salvatore moved in front of the stupid fuck. Salvatore wasn’t as big as Abel, but he was damn close. He didn’t even need to use his arms. He simply allowed Brian to crash into him, resulting in Brian rebounding backwards.
When Abel stepped in a minute later, he looked at the three of them standing in a circle around Brian as he moaned and whimpered on the ground. “What did I miss?”
Roman hefted the axe, his eyes pinned on the prize in front of him. “Nothing, brother. Nothing at all.”
He signaled the others with a lift of his chin. Abel and Salvatore pinned Brian’s arms and legs to the ground with their body weight as Morrigan removed her belt and tied it around Brian’s upper right arm. The man bucked, but it was useless. Sal and Abel were too strong.
“What are you doing? What’s that?” Brian bellowed.
“It’s called a tourniquet.” Morrigan shot him a dirty look as she stood back up. “I thought you were a mighty surgeon. You don’t recognize it?”
“I don’t want you bleeding to death too soon and missing all the fun,” Roman said. Then he swung the axe without further preliminaries.
His aim was a little off—probably because he was tired and running on pure adrenaline—and instead of slicing through Brian’s wrist, the axe chopped cleanly through the center of his palm. Four fingers and half of Brian’s hand detached, blood flowing out as if a bottle of water had been tipped over. The man screamed, his eyes pinwheeling in their sockets. He choked on his saliva as his head thrashed from side to side.
“You missed,” Abel pointed out. He squinted at Roman in concern. “You feeling okay?”
Roman smiled. Abel really was a considerate guy. “I just want to get back to Angel.”
Abel nodded slowly, ignoring Brian’s pleas and cries like the rest of them were. “Then let’s get this done so you can go home.”
Roman nodded, watching dispassionately as Morrigan tugged Brian’s pants down. If they thought the man’s scream was shrill before, it was nothing compared to what he sounded like when his cousin went to work on his scrotum. After she had her fun, Roman cracked his neck and stepped up to the plate.
It was time to unleash the monster his father had created.
* * *
Brian had lasted a pathetic forty-two minutes before he succumbed to his injuries. Roman didn’t think it was long enough to feel the pain and the error of his ways. But he didn’t have the power to resurrect the bastard and do it all over again.
He and the others cleaned up in the bathroom, taking turns to wash the blood off and change clothes, before they ushered Roman out, promising to deal with the body and all the evidence of what had gone on inside the freezer. Roman trusted them implicitly, so he agreed, getting in his town car and heading off.
He surprised himself when he didn’t head directly to Omertà. He made the detour without conscious thought. He spent ten minutes sitting alone in the garden before a voice had him looking up.
“Roman?” Sister Philomena inquired, walking over to him slowly. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know,” he told her truthfully.
She nodded even as she smiled. “Well, this is a good place to seek illumination.”
When the nun sat next to him on the bench, Roman allowed it, finding a strange comfort from the older woman. Eventually, he confessed, “I don’t want to drag her down.” He didn’t think it was necessary to say who he was talking about. The nun surely knew.
