“Please… I’m sorry… Just let me go?—”
I started to mock him like the bitch baby that he was. “I’m soooo sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please, please, please.Wah-wah-wah.” I stared at him as the rope was tied around his neck. “You would have been the first to drop your pants and rape Don Mancini’s daughter if she had been captured. So I’m going to cut off your balls and dick first.”
“No—”
“Pull him up.”
Salvatore yanked the rope and forced the man into the air by the throat. He immediately started to gag when his air supply was cut off.
I stabbed my knife right into his belly and then dragged it down, cutting through his stomach and his pants anddown to his penis. Then I cut off his pathetic dick at the stump and watched it drop at my feet.
He couldn’t scream, only strain against the rope as his guts and blood started to pour out.
I cut and sliced, making a trail of his long intestines hang from his body down to the ground. Then I stood back and admired my work, watching the color drain from his face as he started to fade away. “Wah-wah-wah.” I raised my voice and screamed. “Wah-wah-wah!”
I knew Francesca had gone home to shower and recover, and while she didn’t text or call, I knew she wanted me there with her. I understood that I was the only person in the world who could make her feel safe again.
And there was nowhere else I wanted to be, except for one.
I had to kill Umberto Lombardi—and I had to do it now.
I wouldn’t be able to sleep or eat or breathe until it was done. Until that motherfucker was ripped into so many pieces, no one could piece him back together.
Don Mancini came to my side underneath the mighty oak on the property, the heavy clouds overhead about topour down rain and wash all this violence away. The sun had set, and soon it would be dark.
He didn’t blink as he stared at the carnage that would make any man vomit in the dirt.
I respected him for that.
Most of his men had avoided this area like they couldn’t stomach it.
“I’m going after Umberto.”
“Now?” he asked, turning from the pile of dead bodies to look at me.
“Now.”
“It’s been a heavy day. We can regroup tomorrow?—”
“He’s going to run.”
“Let me talk to some people.”
“His spy has already told him what’s happened here. Trust me, he’s going to run—if he hasn’t already. Probably getting his affairs in order and having his wife pack her shit. I’m not letting him or his men get away.” I turned to look at him directly. “Help me. Don’t help me. I don’t give a shit.” I stepped away from the mess I’d made and headed for my car in the parking lot.
“Wolfe.”
I stopped and turned to look at him again.
“This is personal to you.”
Damn personal. I almost told him the truth right then and there because I didn’t give a fuck. The only reason I didn’t was because Francesca didn’t want that, and she’d already been through enough. “Every member of this family is personal to me.” I turned away again.
“Let me round up the guys, and we’ll go.”
I turned back to him once more.
“Give me fifteen minutes.” He walked past me toward the house, and when he drew near, he clapped me on the shoulder and continued to walk.
