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Dante’s sick laugh snakes through the receiver. His cruelty echoes through my ears like shrapnel and I have to fight back the anguished pain. “He’s right here,” the sick fuck chuckles. “Where are you?”
As if I’d ever tell him. “Give him back,” I beg, tears blurring my vision.
“Sure,” Dante teases. “Come and get him.”
“Gladly,” I tremble back. My voice breaks and I want to kick myself for showing the devil any weakness. That’s what he wants, to make you suffer.
“Do you want to say hi to your mom?” I hear Dante say just off to the side. Maybe I’m just going mad from grief, but I swear a hear a familiar gurgle in response. “No?” Dante chuckles. “Maybe you shouldn’t come after all...”
“Fuck you!” I shout, so loud that it burns my throat.
“We can make that happen, too.”
Another gurgle sends me off the wall; I didn’t imagine that one. “I swear to god, if you touch a hair on his body...”
“Then what!?” Dante snaps. The cruelty in his voice makes my heart shatter for Oscar. “You can’t do shit. I’m in control here, and you’re going to do as I say.”
I fight back the nausea growing in my gut. What a far cry this is from my dirty dream... “What do you want?” I force myself to ask.
“You.”
Bullshit! It’s my first thought, but my throat hurts too much to yell anymore. Dante had his chance with me. For nearly two fucking years straight he had me locked away like a disobedient pet, and he didn’t do shit. I was his pawn and nothing else, but now that I’m with Angel again?
The disgusting little fucker must be jealous. Always the fucking bridesmaid...
My anger hardly disguises my dread, but it helps to push me forward. “... Fine,” I whisper. “I’ll come to you. Just don’t hurt my baby.” My chin drops to my chest and I try to swallow the pain. This is stupid, so fucking stupid, but I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t do something.
“I would never hurt my nephew...” Dante hisses. “... At least, not yet.” My heart clenches into a fist of fury and pure sorrow. “Just make sure you come alone.”
Like hell I will.
30
Angel
It’s time to take down a country.
Cali stands beneath my ragtag army of revolutionaries like a gasoline drenched bonfire. We’re ready to set it alight. The weapons from Dublin are in; so is the firepower from Paris and Morocco. My men may not be trained to use this shit to its fullest potential, but there’s no time to waste.
Dante has my son, and I finally have a lead.
Before we attack, I’m crossing into enemy territory on my own to make sure I can get my family out before the bombs start to drop.
If we’re truly going to win this time, my little brother can’t survive this battle. It’s all or nothing now.
“Ready?” I ask Jesus. He stands beside me as our men prepare in the rubble of our last battle.
“We will be,” he assures me, looking out over the sparkling city. “You just send the signal and we’ll attack.”
I pat the flare gun holstered to my belt. “Good luck,” I mumble.
“You too, boss.”
“Aldar!” I shout over to the man who helped Catalina escape our last bout of chaos. “Let’s go!”
“Yes, sir!” the young man scrambles up to a nearby black jeep and pulls a pair of keys out of his pockets. I take one last look back at our final hope. These people might not be great warriors, but each and every one of them have a fire in their eyes that can’t be ignor
ed. They want justice and freedom just as badly as me and that’s enough. It has to be.
