Angelo

I learned how to swing a baseball bat when I was five years old. The old man took me down to the park with my older brothers under the pretense I had a shot at being something other than a Wiseguy. Back then, I’d wanted to be so many things—a baseball player, a Marine, a cowboy, and even a cop.

I thought I had a choice.

I thought I had a future.

But mine was chosen for me.

Not until I was older did I realize why Pop took us down to the park. It wasn’t to learn how to hit a home run. It was to show us how to inflict pain. How to be a Morelli. Every life lesson had a purpose. Pop didn’t do anything half-assed.

I took a step back, with the bat clutched between my fingers, my grip so tight my bones hurt. Then, I swung like my father had shown me, sending Carlo to the ground with one hit. I stood over him and slammed the metal into his back.

“Where the fuck is she?” I couldn’t stop myself from hitting him again, the pain and anger taking hold of me.

“I don’t know,” Carlo choked out, blood seeping from his mouth. “I never saw her.” He rolled onto his side and covered his head with his hands.

Without Gia, I had become someone unrecognizable. Whatever was left of my black heart was taken along with her. She was my heart, my world, and my entire fucking life. Without Gia, my heart didn’t beat. I was no longer the man she once knew.

Darkness. Black. All I could see was Gia’s face when the tip of the bat landed between Carlo’s eyes. Rage burned inside me, fueled me to become the man my father had always wanted me to be. I was a Morelli. A soldier. A man who couldn’t see past his pain.

Gia was the only thing keeping me from turning into a cold-hearted killer. I fucking missed her. I couldn’t live without her. Blood and revenge were all I could see anymore. It was all I understood.

Crack—there went his ribs.

Another crack—split open his head.

I couldn’t stop myself. Carlo’s blood splashed on my face and in my hair, some of it staining my brand new suit. When I wasn’t hitting Carlo with the bat, I kicked him with the tip of my dress shoe. He was one of the men who I’d expected to find chained to a urinal at Vitale’s for the fire that never happened. He was in on the setup with Enzo’s men. So, fuck him, and fuck his stupid face.

I whacked him again, this time harder than the last. His skin was covered in blood, his face swollen and bloody beyond recognition.

Sonny was still nowhere to be found. Another missing link in the puzzle I couldn’t solve.

How could my best friend do this to me? He was one of the most loyal men I’d ever met. I trusted him with my life. With Gia’s life. And he betrayed me.

My oldest brother, Pete, of all people, that sick and twisted fuck, had to pull me back from Carlo’s limp body. He was long past dead, and I didn’t feel any better. In fact, I felt nothing.

Gia was the only person who could evoke emotion from me. She was the only person on earth who could cure me of this madness.

“That’s enough, baby bro,” Pete yelled in my ear, with his arms tight around me. “He’s gone.”

“Let me go. Let me fucking go, Pete!” I elbowed him in the stomach and broke free from his grasp. I spun around to face him, the bat at my side and my teeth clenched in anger. “You don’t understand.”

He closed the gap between us, his mouth twisted in disgust. “I told you to cut ties with that girl a long time ago. If you had the fucking sense to listen, you wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”

“Fuck you! I don’t need another lecture from you about weaknesses. I don’t have any weaknesses anymore.” I threw the bat on the ground next to me, making sure to hit Carlo with it one last time.

Fucking traitor.

He deserved every broken bone. That piece of shit had earned a bloody death at my hand. Carlo turned his back on the family. Whether Gia had gone missing or not, he wouldn’t have been breathing much longer, anyway.

“Yes, you do,” Pete shot back. “Look at yourself, Angelo. When was the last time you shaved? When was the last time you slept? You look like fucking shit. Keep this shit up, and I’m gonna find your sorry ass at the bottom of a ditch.”

I stepped forward to face-off with him. “Is that a threat, Pete? You gonna carve me up and dump my body?”

He smirked. “Nah. Someone else will be doing the carving if you don’t slow your roll. You can’t go taking out Made men just because you think they had something to do with kidnapping your girl. Shit like this has repercussions.” Pete moved closer and pointed his finger at his chest. “I’m the one who will have to answer for you. This is my crew. You answer to me.” He pressed the same finger to my head and dug it into my temple. “And you best remember that. Play your part. Know your place. Don’t fuck with our business over your broken heart.”

I moved my head to the side to dodge him, my hands still balled into fists. In his own way, Pete was looking out for me. But I was beyond saving. No one but Gia could pull me out of this dark hole I’d climbed into.

“Walk away,” Pete warned.

He knew me well enough to know I was about two seconds away from knocking him out.

Marco pulled me to the side, wrapping both of his hands around my bicep. “Let it go, Angelo. We will find Gia.”

I shook him off me. “Alive?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it depends on who took her, and how long it takes us to track her down.”

“Whoever has Gia is using her for leverage,” Pete added. “She’s alive. Stop acting like a fucking girl and clean up the mess you’ve made.”

He was talking about Carlo’s body.

We were at the same construction site we’d used plenty of times to dump our victims. For a second, I thought of the look in Gia’s eyes, when I’d turned and saw her gasping for air, as the men I had killed alongside my brothers dropped into the ground. She was frightened but turned on. My girl never batted an eyelash at the things I did.

I could still feel Gia’s lips when they wrapped around my cock that night. Knew just how her curls felt between my fingers when she took every inch of me in her mouth. Violence brought out a different side of me. Because of it, Gia had become my addiction. My salvation. She was the only person who could cure me. I had to find her.

Doing as Pete asked, I walked over to Carlo’s body and gave him a good kick in the ribs to roll him over, and into the grave I made him dig before I beat him to death. I had his blood on my shoes and clothes, some of it on my face. If I could have killed him again, I would have. But it wouldn’t bring Gia back to me.

One day at a time, I was becoming more like my brothers. I cared about nothing other than Gia. Not even myself. Hope was a wasted emotion, or at least I’d thought so before Gia had disappeared. Every day, I held out hope I would see her again. I hated not knowing if she was okay. The longest Gia and I had ever been apart in fifteen years was after her mother’s death. I thought that was hell. But not knowing if Gia was okay was pure torture.

“Fig is next,” I told Marco.

He nodded.

My brothers had agreed to help me torture every last one of them. Michael Figone, who everyone knew as Fig, was one of the men on the list that was texted to Sonny the night of the fake fire at Vitale’s. With Carlo dead, I had four more left in my pursuit of revenge—Sonny included.