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19
DANTE
With Sienna’s injury, she needed help getting dressed when we finally decided to get up. I searched through her bag, trying to find something that wouldn’t require her to fit her arm through sleeves. There was only one t-shirt, something old and a bit ratty that she only wore to bed, but it would have to do. Sienna’s nose wrinkled at the sight of it, but she didn’t complain.
“How’s the pain?” I asked.
She mumbled something under her breath before saying louder, “I’m fine.”
“You can take another dose in an hour,” I told her, slipping the shirt over her head. Pulling her arm through gently, I let the shirt fall around her middle.
She looked put out having to depend on someone else to help her get dressed, but I didn’t really give a shit how she felt about that. I didn’t need her to yank open those stitches before the wound could heal, and she definitely didn’t want an infection. I picked up the sling that Wen had sent in the bag, fitting it around her shoulder before propping her arm up.
“Try not to move it too much today.” I made sure the velcro was on tight before stepping away. When she started for the bathroom, I followed without even thinking.
“Dante, I can go to the bathroom without your help,” she snapped before shutting the door in my face. I was about to barge in just to piss her off when a knock sounded at our door.
I yanked the door open. “What?”
“He’s up.” Kill’s hand dropped, his face dark.
Those were two words I’d been waiting for all damn night.
“Since when?”
“Since like two hours ago.”
Two hours… “And why didn’t you come and get me?” I demanded.
He cast a glance over my shoulder. “Sounded like you were a bit busy.”
Scoffing, I brushed past him and stepped out into the hall. “Where’s David?”
“In the kitchen. He just told me to do what we had to and tell him later.” Killian stalked down the hall beside me.
“Pussy.”
“That’s what I said.”
I stopped at the basement door, turning to Killian. “If we do this, you need to listen to me. No arguing. No fucking around.”
Killian’s jaw set. “I won’t.”
We headed downstairs, taking the short hall beside the staircase down into the basement. It wasn’t that big of a room and completely unfinished, which just made it look and feel creepier than it really was. Exposed pipes ran along the concrete walls, which matched the concrete flooring. There were a few boxes that Sienna must have left here scattered along the edges, though I had no idea what was in them. Our prisoner had his arms twisted and locked behind him around one of the metal bars in the center of the room.
Ivan looked like complete shit. His face was black and blue from the short beating I’d given him at the docks to knock him out. Despite the fact that he’d been unconscious for the rest of the night, there were dark circles beneath his bloodshot eyes. He shifted, the metal of the cuffs clanging against the metal bar. Killian stopped as I dragged over one of the abandoned metal chairs from the corner, hauling it in front of Ivan.
“If you’re going to kill me, might as well just do it,” Ivan spat. “I’m not telling you anything.”
“Come on, Ivan. I was your Don for a bit. That deserves some respect.” I sat slowly, taking my time.
“You were nothing but a puppet. Like everyone else.”
“Just like you.” I could see I had struck a nerve. Fire flared in his eyes before he smirked.
“Just like how I used to be,” he said.
“Who is the Snake?” I asked, ignoring him.
