Other than his eyelids twitching, the guard remains motionless, refusing to follow my demand. He only does as solicited when I squeeze my finger on the trigger. A bead of sweat rolls down the nape of Roberto’s neck as his entire body shakes in fear. Through gritted teeth, Roberto’s protective detail removes the gun holstered on his hip and empties the magazinechamber.
“Now the Magnum strapped to your ankle,” I demand, glaring into his thinly slitted eyes when he dumps his first gun into thepricklybush.
His lips set into a hard line before he bobs down to remove the magnum strapped to his left ankle. After removing the bullets from the barrel of the 44, he throws it into the bush and pivots around tofaceme.
“You’re a dead man walking,” he snarls, his tonevicious.
I snicker before pushing the barrel of my gun deeper into Roberto’s skull, using it as a way of directing him to my truck parked at the side of the compound. The guard’s stern threat causes me no concern. I'm already dead. An empty, soulless man who has no chance of emerging from the hell I'm living in. That is why I didn’t bother covering my face. I want everyone to know I'm the man who is going to ensure Roberto pays hisrepentance.
* * *
“Do it,”Roberto taunts, his eyes peering at me over the barrel of the gun pointed at his head. “Do it already! I killed your sister! I ranherdown!”
I rear back my hand and slam the butt of my gun against his left temple with vicious force. Roberto’s head ricochets to the side and a trickle of blood streams down his face, pooling at hisboundfeet.
“Shut the fuck up,” I yell, my angry words reverberating around the desolate basement in Jorgie’shouse.
In the haste of my decision, I didn’t properly evaluate what I was planning to do once I secured Roberto from the Petretti compound. I acted on impulse, knowing it may have been the only viable time I could secure him. Rumors were running rife in our hometown that Col was moving his underground fighting circuit to a new location. I couldn’t run the risk of losing my tail on Roberto. I also couldn’t stand the thought of another day of injustice rolling by. Needing a place free of any encumbrance, I brought him to Jorgie’s house. Roberto has been bound to the water boiler in her basement for the past two hours. I only left him twenty minutes ago tocallAva.
Roberto’s head returns front and center. He smiles a blood-tainted grin, seemingly pleased to have sparked a reaction out of me. He has spent the majority of the last two hours goading me, not caring that his very existence is balancing precariously on the edge of a steep cliff. Just from his taunts, I can tell he has chosen death by suicide. But instead of using a gun as his weapon of choice, he isusingme.
I push a gag into his mouth, not just to stop his callous words, but to also ease the pain shredding my heart, crippling me with grief. Snubbing the shake of my hands, I push the barrel of my gun against the skin between his eyes. Unable to speak through the gag, Roberto’s eyes silently beg for me to issue the punishment the courts failed to decree: to free him from his miserable existence. I push the barrel in closer, pinching the wrinkled skin on his forehead. When I lower my finger to the trigger, Roberto closes his eyes, accepting his fate with a sense of dignity. Gritting my teeth, I squeeze the trigger. Blood roars in my ears when a metal click bellows over the rampant beat of myheart.
Seconds felt like hours as I stare at Roberto, shocked I claimed another man’s life. My shock doesn’t last long. I take a step backwards, exasperated when Roberto’s eyes flutter open.I pulled the trigger, he should be dead. It is only when I sense a presence at my side do I realize the clicking heard wasn’t the noise of my gun firing, it was the old bolts clanking together in Jorgie’s basement door. My eyes swing to the side of the room, closely followed by my gun. Isaac stands at the entrance of the basement. He is wearing his standard suit, accentuated with a murderous glare. His stance is firm, not the slightest bit concerned about having a pistol pointed at his chest. One slip of my finger and he wouldbedead.
“You need to leave,” I say, returning the barrel of my gun to Roberto. “This is between me and Roberto,notyou.”
“You are my family, Hugo. What happens to you affects me,” Isaac responds, his deep voice booming aroundtheroom.
My nostrils flare as I glare into the eyes of the man who killed my mom’s spirit, leaving a shell of a woman I no longer recognize. The man who tore her heart out of her chest, threw it onto the stained floor and stomped on it. The man who shatteredhersoul.
“He killed my family. He tore themapart.”
“No,” Isaac argues, his voice stern and unwavering. “He didn’t kill your family. But you will, if you don’tleavenow.”
My neck cranks to the side faster than a missile being launched out of a jet. I stare into Isaac’s eyes, unable to comprehend any of the words coming out of hismouth.
“The instant you took Roberto, you signed your family’s death certificates. Trust me, Col will not stop hunting you until you have suffered the same loss as him,” Isaac explains to myconfusedface.
My stomach lurches when I see the truth relayed by his frank eyes, but nothing can lessen the fury blackening myveins.
“He deserves to die. He killed my sister. My nephew!” I roar, my veins bulging with every syllable I speak. “I want him tosuffer!”
“He will suffer,” Isaac declares, stepping closer to me. “I’ll make sure of it. I'll take careofthis.”
He stares into my eyes. “He won’t get away with it. You have my word,” he assures me. “There are two types of people in the world, Hugo: healers andhurters.”
Before I have the chance to react, Isaac snatches my wrist holding the gun. He stares at me with murky eyes. “You are a healer. I am ahurter.”
* * *
Ava remains cradledin my lap with her eyes flicking between mine, staring but not speaking. Although the stretch of silence passing between us is thick and somber, the unspoken words relayed by her beautiful eyes are the greatest ally in repairing the damage my foolhardy mistake made. Even crammed with qualm, the glimmer her eyes get every time she looks at me doesn’t dampen from my confession. Her eyes reveal she understands the reason I reacted the way I did. She empathizes with the pain I went through, as it wasn’t just parts of my soul that vanished the day Jorgie died; it was parts of Ava’s soulaswell.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ava
I'd liketo say I'm surprised by Hugo’s confession, but I'm not. When the news circulated about Roberto’s disappearance, I suspected Hugo was involved in some way. Mr. Marshall had raised his sons to protect their mother and sisters. That notion didn’t just stop because Jorgie passed away. Even after her death, I knew Hugo would continue to defend her. I just hoped the justice system would issue Roberto’s punishment so Hugo didn’t have to. But once again, the legal system failed him. Although I would have preferred that Hugo seek justice in a legal manner, I can understand what he was going through all those years ago. He was riddled with so much grief, he was unable to form a rationaldecision.
