Zane
After I left Isabella at the hospital, I called Tommy and Ciro.
“We got your men,” Tommy said in a gruff voice. “We’re at the Mariner Motor Lodge, outside of Morris.”
He hung up with a sharp click. Adrenaline coiled in my stomach like a snake about to lunge for a rat, and I shivered. The Mariner Motor Lodge was owned by a family connected to the business. They had no problem letting their rooms for our occasional use, whether it was a coke-fueled party with hookers or an “interrogation.”
Tonight, it was going to be the latter.
I drove across town as fast as I could. The excitement and feeling of adrenaline was rushing through me, as powerful as a drug, more powerful than it should have been. I was elated. I couldn’t believe Jake and Rico had fallen for whatever bullshit stunt Ciro had pulled to get them back under control.
I grinned to myself. Isabella was safe, and now it was my time to play.
In the family, you didn’t fuck someone and run. That was the first lesson I’d learned that fateful night in the basement with Lionel and Gianni. You didn’t fuck someone, take their money, and expect to get away with it. On some level, maybe Jake wanted to get caught. He wouldn’t have ever done anything so dumb if he thought this would be the end of his life in the family. Hell, he probably even thought some would respect him for acting the way that he had.
“Boy, fuck, you were wrong,” I said, hooting with evil laughter. These men, who had ruined my life, who had killed my father and tried to kill my wife and child, these men weren’t going to live to see sunrise.
I pulled into the parking lot of the Mariner shortly after midnight. I saw Ciro’s black SUV parked in a corner of the lot, tinted windows shining in the light of the moon. Back when I’d found Isabella in the woods, it had been so cloudy it looked like rain. But now it was clear. The moon was bright, so bright I could see my shadow as I walked across the parking lot. The old pavement was cracked and weeds were growing through in places. It was a shitty, run-down motel, but I was glad for it.
My hand tightened around the pistol in my pocket as I climbed up the stairs and headed for room 202. That room was always available to the family; it was a room that had seen a lot of blood and pussy. And now it was about to see some pussies get bloody, I thought with a wicked grin. Jake was a fucking snake. He was going to get what was coming.
I burst in the door. To my surprise, Jake and Rico were sitting down, drinking beer. Ciro and Tommy were sitting on the beds, counting cash.
“Yo, Zane,” Ciro said with a grin. “We got ’em.” Before Jake and Rico could react, Ciro and Tommy pulled guns out of their waistbands and pointed them at Jake and Rico.
“Oh, fuck me!” Rico yelled. He dropped to his knees. “This ain’t fuckin’ fair! We was supposed to get some strippers up in this joint!”
I leaned down in his face and spat, covering his nose in slime. “You ain’t gonna see another stripper for the rest of your life,” I said through gritted teeth. “Not unless you wanna watch Jake work your pole.”
Rico shivered and I swung my arm back and cracked my fist into his face. I felt the bones of my knuckles meet the bones of his teeth, and he fell to the side, blubbering like a baby.
Jake was staring at me with a quiet hatred in his eyes. “I knew it would be you,” he said, looking straight at me. Even though I knew Jake and Rico were outnumbered, a small shiver of fear ran down my back. “I knew you’d come and fuck me in the end, brother.”
Crossing the room in two easy steps, I flung my hand across Jake’s face, slapping him as hard as I could. “Don’t ever call me brother, ever again,” I hissed. “You don’t deserve to call me brother. You stuck a knife in my father’s gut and left him to die in his own goddamn bed like an old maid.”
Rico looked up at me with yellowing eyes. “Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me, Zane. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll be loyal! I’ll do whatever! Bodyguard! Watch that blonde bitch of yours!”
I hit him again, this time with my fist, and watched him spit out a mouthful of teeth. “Don’t you ever call my wife a bitch again,” I said solemnly. “Or I’ll cut out your tongue, you understand?”
Jake was silent. From across the room, Tommy and Ciro nodded at me with approval.
“Tie them up,” I snapped. “One at a time. Then bring Rico in the bathroom. We have a little business to discuss first.”
I went into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet as I watched Tommy and Ciro bind Jake and Rico with their arms behind their backs.
“Gag Rico,” I said with a grin. “He’s got a nasty fuckin’ mouth on him.”
Rico tried to yell but Ciro stuffed a rag in his mouth, covering it with duct tape. I walked over and grabbed him by the collar, dragging him in the bathroom and closing the door behind me. When we were alone, Rico began to sob. I watched his fat, puffy face hyperventilate and finally, I reached forward and yanked the duct tape off his mouth.
“If you make a fucking sound, I’ll put this right back,” I threatened. “You don’t want to fuck with me, you got that?”
“I understand,” Rico said in a trembling voice. “What do you want with me?”
I paced a few steps back and forth. “I want to know why you got involved in this shit,” I hissed. “I want to know why you fucked with my wife.”
Rico looked at me with big, scared eyes. “I didn’t do anything,” he said, stammering like a fool. “It was Jake’s idea! All Jake’s!”
I laughed heartily. “You really are a son of a bitch, you know that?”
Rico looked at me. I could tell he was plainly terrified. “What? Why?”
“Because you fucking snitched on your man not ten minutes into this!” I said, gesturing around wildly. “You think you have what it takes to be a fucking hotshot Mafioso?”
Rico trembled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything.”
I laughed in his face, reaching back with my arm and swinging forward, cracking him hard in the face. Blood bubbled under Rico’s nose. “I don’t believe you,” I snapped. “You fucked with my wife. You’re gonna die, asshole, you know that?”
Rico swallowed hard. Blood was dripping from his nose. “I don’t know, man,” he said. “I don’t know!”
“You don’t know shit,” I said, kicking him to the side. Since his hands were bound behind his back, he flipped over and was prone on his side, wriggling around on the bathroom floor. “Stay here,” I ordered.
Opening the bathroom door, I walked back into the room and grabbed Jake by the collar until he stood up. We tussled like that for a moment until I punched him hard in the gut and he doubled over.
“Get in the bathroom,” I snarled. “I’m not fucking around, asshole.”
Jake glared at me. The disgust and hatred on his face was obvious. I could tell he wanted to kill me, or worse.
When we were in the bathroom, I pulled the tape off his mouth and stared into his beady dark eyes. “You hurt my wife,” I said in a deadly solemn tone. “You hurt my wife, and I want you to die.”
Jake opened his mouth to speak and I punched him hard, making him recoil. His eyes flew back in his head; blood trickled from his nose and mouth. I ran my hand under the faucet and flicked water on his face until he opened his eyes.
“She had it coming, that lazy slut,” Jake said. He cracked a grin at me and I punched him in the gut until he was crying out and whimpering like a baby.
“Don’t you ever talk about my wife like that,” I warned. I pushed Jake into the bathtub on his stomach. His hands were tied and purpling behind his back, bound tightly with a cord. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a pair of shears.
“I feel like taking a finger or two,” I said. “I mean, you hurt Isabella, so I’m going to hurt you now, Jake.”
Jake screamed into the dirty tub as I tightened the shears around his thumb and clamped down until the bone gave and it snapped off. Blood spurted from his hand and Jake was wailing loudly. A strong thrill of adrenaline rushed through my body.
“Tell me what you did,” I hissed under my breath. “Tell me. Tell me why.”
Reaching into the tub, I grabbed him and flipped him around so he was on his back with his bound hands underneath of him. There were delicate sprays of blood, like sea foam, coating the tile on the inside of the tub and Jake paled when he saw them.
“I need to know if Lionel set you up,” I said, drawing the shears down Jake’s chest and pressing down until a thin red line appeared in their wake. “I need to know if my own father betrayed me, or if it was just you, the sack of shit foster brother I grew up with.”
Jake swallowed hard. I could see the whites of his eyes bulging, and I could tell he was scared. “I wanted to be the leader,” he hissed, confirming my suspicions. “Lionel, that dumb fuck, always wanted you.”
Despite the anger surging through my body, a small part of me felt relieved. So, Lionel hadn’t wanted to betray me after all. He’d loved me. He’d known I was his true son.
“Is that so?” I jabbed the shears into Jake’s thigh. He cried out in anguish and blood soaked through the fabric of his pants, draining into the tub. Another surge of anger hit me and I stabbed harder, driving the sharp point of the shears down with as much pressure as I could apply.
“When I found out about your girl, I knew I could fuckin’ get a lot of money for her,” Jake said.
“That was a mistake,” I said solemnly. “That was a huge, huge mistake. And you are gonna regret that for the rest of your life, which is only going to be about ten minutes.” I pocketed the shears and opened the bathroom door. “Ciro, Tommy,” I barked. “Get these assholes into the back of your truck.”
Twenty minutes later, the five of us were in a field, near where Jake and Rico had dumped Isabella. They were on their knees, with their hands bound, in front of me. Rico was whimpering and praying in Spanish under his breath. Jake was staring straight ahead, his face white and bloodless.
“Are you both ready to say goodbye?”
Rico looked up at me, praying louder than before. I grabbed my gun and aimed it, taking the safety off. I shot him in the head and he crumpled to the ground like a doll.
Jake didn’t say anything. I walked up to him and inspected him from every angle. Even though he looked pathetic, I couldn’t drum up an ounce of sympathy for him. I couldn’t make myself care that he was bleeding and cold, not when he’d kidnapped my wife and made her suffer. He could have killed her.
“Goodbye, Jake,” I said softly as I fired the gun at his forehead.
“Yo, boss,” Ciro said. He and Tommy jogged over to me “What are you gonna go next?”
I put my lips in a thin line. “I’m going to see my wife,” I told him. “You clean this shit up.”