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Romeo came back and we had Gio stowed away in the trunk of his car within a minute flat. I stood at the passenger door of the car, wincing at the pounding in my head, but not wanting to show it, luckily Romeo was making his way into the house, no doubt to talk to Bailey.
He was back within seconds, and then we were both slipping into his car, heading away from the house and all of the chaos that had just ensued there. My stomach rolled at the prospect of leaving Bailey and Peyton there with no protection, but we had to get Gio out of there. My gaze scanned the neighborhood, searching for anyone else who may have come with Gio.
There was nothing and nobody there, so they’d either escaped when they realized Gio was done for, or he’d come alone. I blinked, my shoulders tensing. He had to have come alone because he was the one who knocked me out. He never did his own dirty work, but this time he was so desperate that he had.
A noise came from the seat next to me, almost like a growl, and I knew what was coming before Romeo gritted out, “How the hell did he get in?” His voice was deep, and his hands were gripping the steering wheel with so much force that his knuckles were white.
Deep down, I knew it wasn’t my fault, even though itfeltlike it was.
I groaned, feeling a sharp pain in my head again and lifting my hand up to it. “I don’t know. He just…fuck, he came out of nowhere, then the next thing I knew, I was waking up and you were there again.”
Romeo was silent for so long I wondered if he’d even heard me, but then he demanded, “Call Dad.”
He was done talking to me, and I was okay with that because there was no way I wanted to be on the receiving end of his wrath.
I pulled my cell out, knowing that this was it. This was the moment revenge would be taken. Romeo and our dad didn’t have the best relationship, mostly because Romeo was the oldest son, so had been taught the most when it came to our father’s…profession.
But that didn’t mean I’d gotten off scot-free growing up. He’d taught me that shit too, but to top it off, Romeo had left me with our father for the last five years. He’d gone and made his own home, but he’d failed to see what he’d left behind: a boy who was trying to prove himself to be as good as his big brother, something that I was afraid I would never live up to.
And Dad made sure to remind me of that. He may not have said it outwardly, but I could see the constant disappointment in his eyes when I didn’t do something as well as Romeo did. I was always being compared to him, and if I was honest, I was tired of it. I was tired of being not only in my father’s shadow, but my brother’s too.
Trying to dispel those thoughts, I dialed Dad’s number, then gave him a rundown of what had just happened. His silence and heavy breathing over the line told me all that I needed to know, and as soon as the line clicked off, I told Romeo, “He’s preparing the shed.”
“Good,” Romeo gritted out.
He was angry at me, and if I was honest with myself, I didn’t blame him. I was supposed to be protecting Bailey, it was my only job right then, and I’d failed at it. I’d fuckin’ failed.
Wincing as Romeo slammed his fist down on the steering wheel, I shifted as far away from him as possible and retreated into myself, something that I did when we were younger. I’d go quiet, watching and waiting, something that I’d become a pro at—being able to analyze people and situations.
I didn’t say another word as he slowly stopped the assault on his car and pulled into the driveway of the home we’d grown up in. Neither of us missed a beat as we pushed out of the car and rounded to the trunk. My body and brain were working on automatic, knowing what needed to be done now.
Romeo grabbed Gio, jerking him out of his car trunk.
“Want help?” I asked as Gio’s body slammed against the ground, but Romeo didn’t stop yanking him toward the gate that led into the backyard.
“Nope,” he grunted. “I’ve got this.”
He dragged him all the way across the lawn and toward the brick shed that Dad taught us all of his torture techniques in. It had just as many bad memories for me as I was sure it had for Romeo. But neither of us showed it; we’d become masters at putting on a mask that no one could see behind.
“Ready?” my father asked.
Romeo didn’t answer as he pulled Gio into the shed and tied him to a chair that was sitting in the middle of the room.
Dad glanced at me, frowning. “Go inside, Rafael. Get cleaned up and get some rest. You’re going to need it.”
I opened my mouth, wanting to tell him that I wasn’t leaving. I wanted to cause this motherfucker pain too, but with one look from my father, I knew it wasn’t my place to argue back.
This was Romeo’s revenge, and I was just here to help when they needed me.
Besides, my head was pounding and a nap right now sounded like heaven, so I backed away, quietly leaving the brick shed, then heading up to the house, hating that as soon as I walked away from the brick building, the only thoughts in my brain were of Peyton again.
Fuck. This didn’t bode well for anybody.
CHAPTER 3
PEYTON
I leaned against the doorway to the living room, my attention focused on Bailey who was staring out of the window, waiting for Romeo, but he still hadn’t arrived. However much I hated admitting that she needed a man to comfort her right now—to protect her—there was no denying it.
