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Rocco pressed the brakes to stop for a red light, and that’s when I made my move. We were close to my church, so it was time to take a detour. I leaned forward and had the sharp edge of the switchblade pressed against Rocco’s throat before he realized he wasn’t alone.
“You’re going to turn right here,” I whispered, my voice hardening into something unrecognizable. If every person was a two-sided coin, but instead of heads and tails it was demons and angels, right now I was very much on my demon side.
Rocco reacted. His hands went for the gun at his waist, but I stopped him by pressing the knife harder against his neck, moving it to just beneath his ear, hard enough to nick the skin and make him bleed—but not deep enough to gush.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warned. “By the time you pull out that gun, I’ll have pushed this blade so deep that your carotid artery will be severed. Maybe you’ll manage to shoot me, or maybe you won’t. That artery supplies the blood to your head, so you’ll get weaker and weaker as the seconds tick by until you finally die. Is that what you want, Rocco? Do you want to die here in your car, with the vain hope that you manage to land a bullet in me?”
The light ahead had turned green, but Rocco was still stepping on the brake. The cars behind us had started to beep, though the only thing that concerned him was the knife against his skin. He stopped fumbling for his gun—the hassle of wearing a suit, really—and asked, “What the fuck do you want?”
I couldn’t tell if he knew it was me or not. Didn’t matter. “I told you already: turn right.” I dug the switchblade a little deeper into his skin, drawing out another line of warm blood on his neck.
“All right, all right.” The car lurched forward as he stepped on the gas a little too hard.
“Easy,” I whispered, my tone deadly. “No sudden moves, and I won’t kill you.”
“Who are you? What the fuck do you want?” It seemed he still didn’t know who I was; the shadows must’ve been really good at hiding my face in the rearview mirror.
“At the next light, go straight, and then you’re going to make a right.” The closer I got him to my church, the better it’d be. Hell, if I could get him into the parking lot, I could take over, get him into position. The cameras that were situated in the church parking lot were for show, and old trees, some of the oldest that were still alive downtown, blocked off the parking lot from the surrounding buildings.
I liked my privacy. What could I say?
Rocco’s hands were tight on the wheel. “I’m on the Black Hand. I can get you whatever you want—”
“Can you change the nature of men?”
“What? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“That’s a no, I take it. Pity. If you could change the nature of men, I would at least be tempted.” Tempted, but of course, I still wouldn’t let him go. I made a promise to Giselle that I would help her whenever she needed me, and right now, she needed a dark angel to deliver Rocco straight to her.
Rocco followed my directions, but my reply to him made him prickly, because he switched tactics: “You won’t last another fucking day in this city, not after this. Everyone on the Hand will be looking for you, and when they find you—”
“Turn into this upcoming parking lot, and go to the back,” I said, pointedly ignoring what he was saying. The Black Hand might deal swift justice to any lowly criminal that tried to take a piece of the pie, so to speak, but I was no lowly criminal.
Rocco turned the car into the parking lot, and he slowed the car when we reached the back of it.
“Pull into the last spot on the right,” I instructed, and he did as he was told. “Put the car into park and turn it off.”
He sighed as he did just that, and once the car was off, he spoke, “So, now are you going to tell me what the fuck this is about?”
I kept the switchblade against his neck as my other hand got the chloroform rag ready. “Afraid not. Take heart, for that will come in time.” I said not a word more as I reached around the other side of the headrest and held the rag over Rocco’s mouth and nose.
The man struggled somewhat, but with the knife at his throat, he couldn’t do much, and eventually, he breathed in. His movements became sloppy and weak, and his words slurred to the point where I couldn’t understand him. Soon enough, the man passed out, and only then did I remove the blade from his neck and pull the rag off his face.
I stuffed them both back into my pockets before getting out of the car and stretching. I pulled out my keys to the side door of the church and went to unlock them. I didn’t often lock the doors, only when I had business inside to tend to, really, but once Rocco was in, they’d get locked right back up.
The fool didn’t even realize where he was: my church. I’d never seen the man come to a service before, so that could be why he didn’t recognize it. All he had to do was look out of his windshield and see the cathedral in front of him.
And now he was unconscious and my problem to drag into the church.
I propped open the side door with the kick-down stopper and then went to pull the man inside. I’d have to get rid of his car, but that could be a job for later. Right now, my main goal was getting Rocco inside and ready for his closeup, so to speak.
Giselle had waited three years for this particular night of comeuppance, so I knew she’d take her time. Fortunately for her, I had an entire basement she could use to her heart’s desire. If she wanted to keep Rocco alive but hanging by a thread, it was the perfect place to do it.
When it was all done and Rocco’s body was slumped in a pew, when the door to the church was locked once again and Rocco’s gun was safely on my person—along with his phone—I called Giselle to tell her the good news.
I was a man of my word. I’d told her I would do this for her, and I did, and if she needed more from me, then I would give more. I would give anything to her, do anything for her. I’d thought Giselle was my greatest sin, but she wasn’t.
She was my salvation.
