Page 51 of Keep

“No,” he said.

“But when you come back, it will be done,” I said. I’d guessed as much, had seen how not responding was eating at him and could only hope that once it was done, we could start to build the little family that I had only dreamed of, me, him, and Maria, together, happy.

“It will be done.”

He stood silent then as if waiting for me to say something. But there was nothing I could say. I could tell him that nothing would come from more killing, say what was done was done, but that was bullshit. He never, ever, involved me in his business, but he seemed to treat his men fairly. But this, an attack on his home, on his child, would be punished severely, fatally and I was happy about it.

I felt so weak, so useless, especially since there was no way I could help him. But I could give him my support. Before he could react, I grabbed his huge hand, kissed his rough fingers. Then I stared up at him.

“Do it. And then come back to me.”

A short nod was his only response.

* * *

Vasile

“He is in his home?” I asked.

“Yes, he’s being acquired now,” Priest said.

“Good. He’ll be my second stop.”

I drove toward Vargas’s, an eerie feeling of déjà vu at the back of my mind. It had been less than a week since I had last done this and in that time, my entire world had burned down.

This wouldn’t fix it, wouldn’t fix anything. But it was something I had to do. When I’d told Fawn, I hadn’t been sure how she’d react, and I still couldn’t tell how she had. She’d gone mysterious, unreadable as she’d been that first day. Did she think me a monster?

Probably.

The things I would do tonight would not dissuade her.

I parked in Vargas’s driveway and then got out, unconcerned about being seen.

“This is where I leave you. I hope you find peace,” Priest said.

“I didn’t come here for peace,” I replied.

I entered the huge house, heartbeat accelerating at the first whiff of the air.

Then I followed the muffled whimpers up the stairs into the opulent bedroom. My gaze landed on Sorin, who stood with the others, face flat, eyes hooded. I nodded quickly and then turned my attention to the rest of the room.

The walls were covered with reminders of his Incan heritage. He’d have a connection to his homeland in these last moments, which was more than he deserved.

I strolled to the middle of the room where Vargas lay duct taped to the bed, spread eagle. His mouth was gagged, and he moved his head furiously, his screams muffled.

“Hello, Vargas.” I smiled. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

Adrenaline raced through me, setting my heart to pound but with excitement not fear, and a part of me hoped Vargas would lie, would give me a chance to stretch this out.

He nodded frantically, and I walked over and peeled the tape off his mouth slowly, and as always, he disappointed.

“I’m sorry. I tried to talk him out of it, but I owed his family. The debt had to be paid. You understand. I had no choice.”

“Of course you did,” I said casually, managing to keep a hold on the rage threatening to boil over and force me to end this far earlier than I intended.

“I didn’t, Petran,” he sobbed, shaking his head violently.

“You did. You chose poorly,” I said.

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