AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Pace grabs the bag on his way out, re-locking the door behind us. We head down the driveway, where I toss Santini in the trunk and Pace backtracks to turn the electricity on. We’re in and out in less than an hour.
Heading to the country, we arrive at the farm in two hours. The sun isn’t yet rising either. I have a couple more hours before I need to be home for Nicola. Plenty of time to interrogate the piece of scum in my trunk.
The farm is a piece of property my grandfather purchased in the sixties for just such occasions as this. It’s a working property, as well, donating produce and crops to local shelters and churches in need. At one time, though, it was a slaughterhouse for diseased livestock.
The barn that housed the machinery that processed the animals is still standing and functional. I have no idea if it’s been used to get rid of bodies, but I do know it’s motivational and closed off from anyone stumbling around.
Parking around back, I shut the engine off and step into the crisp morning air. Regarding the fields and mountains surrounding us, I can’t help but think Nicola would love the view. The escape. I might have to speak to my father about upgrading the property to include a getaway here.
“You know, for someone who took a vow to protect and serve, you’re falling into this mafia lifestyle fairly well.” Pace’s comment matches that of Maso’s last week, and as I look over at him, I see the concern in his eyes.
I’m the only person in our family's history to join the other side of the law. Even though Santi and a few other members have joined the military in some capacity or another, it’s not always black and white in war either.
“I needed to help people, Pace. I needed to stop the injustices before they began, and I didn’t think I would be able to do that in the family business.” I shrug. Good guy, bad guy, it doesn’t matter anymore so long as I can keep the people I love protected.
“Fair enough, brother.” Pace opens the trunk, and we pull out Santini together, dragging his unconscious body into the barn. Tying him to a chair, Pace goes about turning on some lights.
The building still smells like death, and blood stains the cement floor, the walls, even the few windows. Rusty blades and tools hang along three walls, and gates have collapsed from lack of use or caretaking. The ceiling is at least two stories high, and as the wind whips about outside, it makes for a horrific sound above us in the empty rafters.
“How long do you think he’ll be out?” Pace asks as he leans against a beam, appearing relaxed.
“Should wake up any minute now.” As I finish speaking, Santini begins groaning and moving his head. We give him a few minutes before either of us approaches.
If he’s smart, he’s biding his time. Remaining still and silent, assessing the situation he’s found himself in. It takes a solid five minutes before he lifts his head. Pace’s grin widens when the chief’s eyes bulge upon seeing us. He thought he was alone.
“What is this? Who are you? Do you know who I am?” he questions as his vision clears of the night-night drug.
“Yup, we just don’t care who you are, chief, but I guarantee you’ll care about us.” I walk over to him, a rusty bone saw in my hand.
“I’ll have your head for this, Cardarelli!” he shouts in sudden recognition as I grip a finger.
“We’re going to play a little game. Answer me correctly, and I won’t saw your fingers off. Got it?” His glare intensifies, but I don’t care. When he refuses to answer me, I snap the finger back, easily breaking it.
“Ahhh!” he screams.
I wait until he finishes. “Don’t fight me, and this won’t hurt one bit.” Pace drags a chair over and sits next to our prisoner.
“Do you understand my brother, chief?” Pace smacks the man’s shoulder.
“Yes, yes, I understand.” Sweat is already forming on his brow.
“Good. Tell me about your relationship with Vincenzo Salvatore.” He scoffs at me before spitting at my feet.
Pace chuckles, shaking his head. My anger mounts. Gripping the finger I previously broke, I saw the digit off, bone slows the process, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. His blood flows in rivulets as he stares in shock before the pain short-circuits his brain, and he begins to scream. Dropping the severed digit on the dirty ground, I wait for him to silence.
“He warned you, man,” Pace remarks while I grab another finger, uncaring about the mess, the damage. Anything at all.
I have tunnel vision right now, and all I care about is getting rid of this varmint and his cousin off the face of the earth.
* * *
Nicola
I knowDomino isn’t here before my eyes open. Not in the bedroom, nor the house. His presence is one I sense from miles away, or it seems that way, at least. And when he’s not in my vicinity, I know. I feel the loss to my bones.
Opening my eyes, I stare at the white ceiling as the bright sun cascades across the room. For years, I dreaded waking up. I would awaken anxious and lonely. Afraid of what the day would bring. I never understood why until I began sharing Domino’s bed.
Even if we butt heads more often than not, I know he’s mine. I know I’m his. I have someone to count on in a way I never did before. Even when I was with the Salvatores in what I believed was a seemingly happy home, I never felt as complete as I do with Domino.
