9
TATUM
As we walked down the hall, I couldn’t help but wonder what Castello meant by saying he knew exactly what I needed. It wasn’t the first time he said it, but I’ve been under the impression he meant it sexually. That he knew what I needed when it came to sex. But after he said it again this morning, I got the feeling I was wrong. He meant something else…I just couldn’t figure out what.
I glanced up at him. He had that tick in his jaw again, hard lines forming across his face. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was nervous.
“Where are we going?” I looked down, staring at the wooden floors.
He pulled his hand down his face, looking a little unsettled. “My father used to say it’s always better to pull the plaster right off.”
Now I was getting nervous. “Okay?”
He stopped in front of a door, and his intense gaze pinned me on the spot. “If you’re going to become a part of my world, I need to prepare you the best I can.”
“Prepare me for what?”
His eyes searched all around us, as if he was trying to find the right words. He sighed. “We do what we need to survive. And sometimes that requires us to be…monsters.”
I stepped closer. “Castello, what are you trying to say?”
“What I’m trying to say is, that no matter what happens, you need to trust me. I need to know you trust me.” He looked at me pleadingly, his gaze etched on mine. Something bad was about to happen. I could feel it in every bone of my body. It was the same feeling I felt when Castello dragged me to that dreaded dining hall where I was put on display like a goddamn animal. Back then, I didn’t trust him. The question is…did I trust him now?
“Can you do that, Tatum? Can you trust me?”
I searched his face, trying to make sense of the jumbled mess my mind had become. There wasn’t a coherent thought inside my head when it came to this man—when it came to how I felt about him…about us. But after everything that’s happened something clawed and scraped at the back of my mind, urging me to trust him.
“Yes,” I whispered, and it was like a veil of relief fell over him.
“Good.”
He opened the door, and I stepped inside. When I saw the scene in front of me, I balked, and could hear every beat of my heart echoing through my head.
“What is going on?”
I stared with apprehension at a man tied to a chair. Blood dripped from his nose, the tape covering his mouth stained with crimson. The fear in his eyes was something no one would have been able to miss. He was completely naked, his wrists and ankles tied to the chair. His hands and feet were stained with blood from trying to free himself.
There was a soft touch at the hollow of my back. “This is where we become monsters, Tatum.”
I shot my gaze up to Castello’s, staring at him as a thousand questions ran through my mind.
He straightened the lapels of his jacket, and it was like he pulled on the mask of a man who had no fear, someone who exuded authority, demanding the respect of every one that stood in his presence. He wore the face of the man I met when I woke up in a cell, dressed in a rag.
Uncle Gino was there along with four other men, guns at their sides, demonic looks on their faces. I recognized one other man. It was the same man who was there the first time I saw Castello. The man he referred to as ‘Doc,’ the man who pushed a needle into my skin.
That same gnawing instinct that urged me to trust Castello now warned me I wasn’t going to like whatever was about to happen.
Castello moved to stand in front of me, his back toward the rest of the crowd. “You will not say a word unless spoken to. I’m breaking a lot of rules by having you here, don’t make me regret it.”
“I don’t want to be here,” I blurted out with panic. Every instinct I had told me I most definitely did not want to be there.
He stepped closer. “I want you here.”
“Why?”
“It’s the only way.”
“The only way for what?” But Castello had already turned around, abruptly ending our conversation.
I swallowed hard as I braved another look at the man tied to a goddamn chair. By the bruises and the blood on his face, he had already been beaten. He looked like…he looked like my father did…just before Vico killed him.
“Tell me, Ricardo, do you know why you’re here today?” Castello’s voice was hard, low, and intimidating as hell. No wonder the man was trembling.
The man frantically shook his head, muffled moans coming from behind the tape covering his mouth.
Castello stopped in front of him, reached out, and ripped the tape off his mouth. The sound sent chills down my spine as I watched the skin around Ricardo’s lips turn a dark shade of red.
Castello dropped the piece of tape to the floor. “Talk.”
“I…I…I don’t—”
Castello slapped him through the face, his head jerking to the side. I yelped softly as the crack burst through the room with sickening force.
Castello grabbed his chin and made the man look at him. “Now let’s try again. And this time, don’t stutter. Do you know why you’re here?”
“No.” Ricardo leaned to the side and spat out a mouth of blood before turning back to Castello. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“So the stories I’ve heard of you helping my little brother aren’t true?”
Instantly Ricardo paled as if he had seen a ghost. “Of course they’re not true.”
Castello started to pace around him again, his shoulders squared, confidence radiating from him like rays of sunlight. “Then it wasn’t you who arranged the little get-together between Vico and our Mexican supplier?”
“What? Of course not.”
“So, you’re calling my Uncle Gino a liar then?” Castello stopped in front of him, his gaze never leaving Ricardo. “According to my uncle, you’re the snitch who has been paid very handsomely by my brother for setting up the meeting.”
Ricardo’s eyes darted toward where Uncle Gino was standing. Uncle Gino had the same hard look on his face as Castello. And with no other light in the room besides a lonely light bulb hanging from the ceiling, cruel shadows fell onto the lines of their faces.
Ricardo started to frantically shake his head. “It wasn’t me. I swear to fucking God, it wasn’t me.”
Castello held his arms out wide. “Well then, it seems we’re done here.” He turned around, and Ricardo seemed to sag in his chair with relief. Even I felt slightly relieved, but by the way Castello’s entire demeanor darkened, screaming of anger and malicious intent, I knew the relief would be short-lived.
“Oh yes,” Castello started before turning back to Ricardo holding his phone out toward him. “There is this issue of you being photographed collecting your payment from one of Vico’s men.”
I narrowed my eyes and stepped slightly closer to try and see the picture Castello was referring to.
Ricardo stared at the phone for ten seconds, then started to fight against his restraints. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Castello. It won’t happen again. I needed the money to pay off some debts. But it was a one-time deal, I fucking swear.”
Oh God.
Castello put his phone back in his jacket pocket, seemingly unaffected by Ricardo’s confession and begging.
“Castello, please. I swear to God it won’t happen again—”
Castello swung his fist straight into Ricardo’s face, and I heard the distinct sound of bone breaking. I flinched, closing my eyes for two seconds. When I opened them Ricardo’s face was covered in blood from a cut just above his left eye.
By the way Castello’s jaw clenched, I knew the monster was about to come out.
“Did you not lay down the oath? Did you not swear your loyalty to this family? Did you not vow to follow me the day my little brother decided to stand against me?”
“I did. Yes, I did. I’m sorry, Castello. Please believe me when I say I will never ever betray you again.”
Castello leaned forward, and Ricardo stared at him as if he were the devil himself. I stared at him as if he was the devil.
“The punishment of such betrayal is death.”
“Please, no!” Ricardo started to weep, his beaten face contorted with fear.
Castello straightened and looked my way. “Unless she decides to spare your life.”
My heart dropped, my gut instantly feeling like it had been filled with concrete. “What?”
Castello kept my gaze. “What do you say, Tatum? Should I be merciful and spare Ricardo’s life?”
“Oh God, please,” Ricardo started to beg again, only this time his pleading words were aimed at me. “Please don’t let him kill me. Please, God no.”
There were too many thoughts inside my mind shouting, screaming while the sound of my own heartbeat resounded in my head like a fucking jackhammer.
“What are you doing, Castello?”
“I’m asking you whether or not you want me to spare his life.”
I lightly shook my head. It felt like the world around me was starting to spin out of control.
I glanced from Castello to the panicking Ricardo. Why was Castello doing this? Why would he leave such a decision up to me?
I looked back at Castello. “You know I don’t want to see anyone die.”
“So you want me to spare his life? After he betrayed me?”
My lungs started to constrict inside my chest as my breathing became shallower by the second. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He started toward me, still wearing the mask he had pulled on the second we walked into this room.
“Do you think this man deserves a second chance?”
“Don’t we all?”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And what if I told you that betraying me, helping my brother plot against me isn’t his only crime?”
I kept his gaze, refusing to cower away from him. “I don’t care about what he’s done. Death can atone for nothing.”
He cocked his head to the side. “And why do you think death can’t atone for anything?”
“Because when the guilty is dead, they feel nothing. Only the living left behind carries the weight of an injustice done unto them.”
The way his mouth pulled up at the corners made me think he already knew. He expected me to say no to killing this man.
He stopped two feet away from me. “Do you remember when Vico killed your father? Murdered him in cold blood?”
Anger raged. “Of course I do.”
“Do you remember what it sounded like, the sound of the gun as Vico pulled the trigger?”
I clenched my teeth. “What are you doing, Castello?”
“Do you remember the scent of your father’s blood as it dripped on the floor?”
“Stop.”
He stepped closer. “Do you remember what it felt like watching the life drain out of your father’s body, knowing there was nothing you can do to save him?”
Tears blurred my vision while pain seared the inside of my chest. I closed my eyes, desperate to get rid of the images Castello was causing to pour back into my mind.
“Do you remember what your father looked like as he took his last breath?”
“Please stop!”
He grabbed my arms and jerked me closer. “Do you remember the smug grin on my cunt of a brother’s face after he pulled that trigger? After he killed your father?”
God! “Yes! Yes, I remember!” Tears streamed down my face, the image of my father’s lifeless body next to a gloating Vico finally tearing my soul in two.
“Good!” Castello jerked me once more. “Look at me.”
I continued to sob.
“I said look at me!”
I opened my eyes, and stared into his.
“Remember that pain, Tatum. Remember that image of your father as he died in that chair.”
“Why?” I whispered between clenched teeth.
“Because that pain you feel whenever you think of that exact moment is what’s going to make you stronger. It’s going to motivate you.”
“Motivate me for what?”
He placed his palm against my cheek, his thumb gently rubbing against my bottom lip.
“Revenge.”
I searched his face while I struggled to keep the pain and the rage contained.
“This man—” Castello pointed toward Ricardo“—he was the one that brought your father to Vico and my mother. He was the man that beat your father so hard there were no bones left in his face to break.”
My body became heavy, my mind reeling with every word Castello spoke as I glanced from him to Ricardo in disbelief.
“Ricardo was the man that tied your father to the same chair he died in. This man you want me to show mercy to had a role in your father’s death.”
He let go of my arms, and my legs felt as if they could give way beneath me at any moment. I stared at Ricardo. “Is it true?”
He remained still.
“Is it true?” I yelled, and he only flinched without saying a word.
Funny, a few minutes ago he couldn’t shut up as he tried to beg for his life. But now he was as silent as a mouse—a little mouse.
Castello walked over to Ricardo and pulled out his gun, aiming it at Ricardo’s head.
“Tell me, Tatum. Do you still believe that death can atone for nothing?”
Over and over I imagined my father’s lifeless body. Every night that exact image was the last thing I saw when I closed my eyes. It was also the first thing I saw when I woke up. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop my mind from reliving those few seconds over, and over, and over again.
But now, as I stood in front of a man that played such an important part in the nightmare I was forced to relive every day, the thought of him dying actually felt like it had the strength to numb the pain. Slowly I started to replace the images of my dead father with images of a dead Ricardo…and it made me feel stronger.
“It’s time for your final verdict, Tatum.” Castello pressed the nozzle of the gun against Ricardo’s forehead. Ricardo closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face, as snot spat from his nostrils.
Castello released the safety of his gun, and Ricardo sobbed while he pissed himself.
My heart hammered, but it wasn’t because of fear. It was because I knew what I wanted, what I needed.
What I needed…
I snapped my gaze up to Castello. That’s what he meant. That’s what he meant when he said he knew what I needed.
He nodded as if he could hear my every thought, as if he knew I had pieced it together.
I took a deep breath, and kept my eyes on Castello’s face. “Kill him.”
Castello pulled the trigger, and the deafening sound of death filled my ears. I closed my eyes and felt something I never thought I’d feel over the death of another human being…relief.