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But a part of me was so fucking proud of her for taking charge in an impossible situation, one where she was outgunned and out-numbered, and out-sized.
She’d somehow mustered the courage to take out one of the attackers before he could kill Massimo.
Everyone in our family would forever be grateful to her for her bravery.
But I couldn’t let her be rewarded for it by being raped, tortured, and murdered by some fucking unknown assailants.
No fucking way.
Not on my watch.
“Where did he take her?” I roared, rearing back and kicking again, aiming a little… lower.
“Fuck you,” the guy groaned, rolling so his back was to me, protecting his more delicate areas.
Or so he thought.
Your ribs connected in the back too.
And they cracked just as easily.
“Ah!” he yelled, but barely had a chance to try to catch his breath before the tip of my toe was slamming into the base of his spine. “Fuck,” he hissed, curling tighter.
“Where is she?” I demanded, leaning down over him, tossing him onto his back, and yanking him up off the floor by the front of his shirt. “Where the fuck did they take her?” I yelled.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard my voice raised before. I didn’t really think it was in my nature. Not until right that moment.
“I can’t,” the guy objected. “They’ll kill me,” he added.
With a flick of my wrist, I slammed him back onto the unforgiving cement ground before yanking him back up.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” I growled. “But I will skin you fucking alive first,” I told him. And with the rage surging through my system right then, I felt capable of doing that. With something really fucking blunt to make it hurt worse. “Where is she?” I growled, cocking back my other arm and slamming my fist into his face.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
“Where is she!” I yelled as his head started to loll, going in and out of consciousness.
“You’re gonna kill him before you get answers,” Lucky said, sounding pretty blasé about the idea.
On a growl, I tossed the guy down, ramming my foot into the backs of his legs, his knees, his calves, spilling some of the rage that seemed to be fed from some bottomless well inside.
“Where the fuck is she?” I yelled when he still refused to open his mouth, reaching down to grab his shirt, and yanking him up again.
It was right then that I felt a hand land on my shoulder.
“Fuck off, Lucky. He needs to answer me.”
“Son, he’s not answering anyone right now,” my father’s calm voice said, giving my shoulder a tighter squeeze.
“He has to,” I insisted, shaking the guy’s body like a fucking rag doll.
“Son, it’s the Agosti Family,” my father said, the words seeming to penetrate through the anger and desperation filled fog in my brain, leaving me to drop the guy before spinning to face my father.
“What?”
“The Agosti Family. In particular, Luigi Agosti.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“The men in the container,” my father said. “I recognized one of them as Arnie Agosti. Their old man had a stroke a month ago. He’s in a medically-induced coma. So I guess Luigi decided to start making some boss moves in his father’s absence.”
“They have East Pennsylvania,” I said, shaking my head.
“And they don’t have much going on right now,” my father said, shrugging. “Luigi was always a jealous little shit. We have the biggest operation in the area. He wants it. With his father out of the way, he decided to make moves to take it. And to give credit where it’s due, he almost pulled it off.”
“He has my girl,” I told my father, jaw ticking.
A darkness overtook my father’s eyes right then, and I could see the raw pain of my mother’s death weighing on him still, even after all these years. And I knew without him saying it, that he would put the might of the entire Family, as well as the fucking New York Families, on this if he needed to so I didn’t have to know the kind of pain he’d been shouldering for almost my entire life.
“Which is why we are moving out as soon as the rest of the men show up. We couldn’t move everyone,” he added, holding a palm up to me. “We needed to leave some to protect the women and children, but we moved them into bigger groups so we could have as many able men as possible. We don’t know how many men he still has, or what we’re walking into,” he added, tone heavy.
“I don’t give a fuck. I’m going in there to get her.”
“Raised you right,” my father said, patting my cheek. “Lucky, help me chain this bastard up,” he said, pointing to the bloodied man on the ground. “We can question him some more later if we need names. Go upstairs and gear up,” he added, nodding toward the stairs.
