Page 44 of Twisted Roses


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As far as I’m concerned, he was asking for it.

But to Hector,I’mthe one asking for it. I killed his baby brother, therefore I’m the shit starter.

He doesn’t realize I’m also the one who finishes shit too.

We retaliate against Hector. I have a firsthand view of the payback from the comfort of my office at the club. Stitches video calls me from across the street of Encore. The gentleman’s club is notoriously one of the Belini’s main operations.

He’s seated at the diner waiting for our plot to carry out. “He should be out any minute.”

“I didn’t think he’d take this long to be blown up.”

“Omar wired everything perfectly. He’ll be in pretty bad shape. If he survives.”

“That’s good. Next up, the fuckers who ran me off the road.”

“Fabio is heading out later to handle that. We plan on keeping the Hummers for ourselves. We’re going to try not to get too much blood on the interior. I’ve got a Tinder date later and I’d prefer the girl not be turned off by all the blood and guts on the seat.”

I crack a grin, swirling the ice inside my whiskey glass. “You’re right, Francis. Youdohave a morbid sense of humor.”

“He’s coming out!” Stitches whispers. The camera shifts as he does to gain a better vantage point.

The doors to Encore bust open and out Hector emerges, as big, dumb, and ugly as the last time I saw him. He walks out with two men by his side, in the middle of conversation by the looks of it. They walk up to the luxury car parked in front of the gentleman’s club and open the doors to get in.

I slowly sip my whiskey miles away, waiting for the boom.

It happens the second they twist the key and the engine comes on. The car bomb explodes in a wave of aggressive flames. Shop windows blow out. So do the windshields of cars parked nearby. Their alarms go off, blaring in a loud and chaotic chorus. Debris clouds the air and any pedestrians in the area scream in shock and terror.

Hector’s car is engulfed in wild flames. The doors push open and he and the other two men plop onto the street. They’re on fire, their flesh burning before my eyes. They cry out in agony and attempt to roll themselves to put it out.

Sirens whir in the distance. Someone’s already called 911.

Stitches turns his camera back on himself. “Satisfied? He’s fucked up real good. I think he’s melting on the asphalt.”

I swallow more whiskey. “Almost. One more thing.”

We hang up with Stitches mentioning he’s off to check on an update from Fabio. I don’t put down my phone, bringing up the contact I have listed for Hector Belini. He’s in excruciating pain at the moment, literally burning alive, so I don’t expect him to answer his phone.

The beep sounds for his voice mailbox. I grin to no one but myself as I leave him a message.

“Hello, Hector. Just thought I’d check in on you. Something tells me you can’t return my call right now. Let me know if there’s any confusion about who not to fuck with. Get better soon.”

14. salvatore

Delphine is backto ignoring my calls. I curse as I’m sent straight to voicemail for the fifth time tonight. At the beep, I snarl at her to pick up the phone.

“I have information about your father. Pick up the fucking phone, Phi.”

The call disconnects and I almost throw my phone halfway across my office. Instead, I storm over to my knife display, pluck the sharpest bladed knife I have, and toss it at the dart board on the opposite wall.

The door opens and in saunter two big-breasted ditz-for-brains and Stitches. While he wears a sheepish smile, the ditzes wear vacant ones. They totter over in their platform heels, giggling like they’ve heard the funniest joke ever.

I glare at Stitches and he rushes to explain. “Don’t be pissed at me! This is Candy, my Tinder date. Her friend, Krystal, tagged along and she’s always wanted to meet you. I figured you’ve been spending so much time on Miss ADA and her father—”

“My takedown of him has nothing to do with her.”

Stitches doesn’t look like he buys a word. He’s saved by one of the ditzes. The brunette—the one named Krystal, I’m assuming—sashays over, dropping down to her knees with big, excited eyes blinking up at me.

“I’ve always wanted to meet you. But you always seem soooo stressed out. I can help with that,” she purrs.

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