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Dad looks at me for a moment before he leaves to get my pillow.
I hear Louisa carry the shopping to the kitchen and then become aware of the familiar sounds of the house.
I missed this.
Using the remote, I scroll to my selection of cooking videos and press play.
Dad comes back into the living room with my pillow, and after he places it under my head, I snuggle into it.
“Can I bring you anything else?” Dad asks.
“No, thanks.” My eyes leave the TV screen to rest on him. “Are you going into the office today?”
He shakes his head. “I’m working from home this week.” When he heads to the doorway, he adds, “I’ll check in on you later.”
“Okay.”
I turn my attention back to the show and watch as the chef rubs spices into a filet.
Before the meat even gets to the pan, my eyes drift shut.
Chapter 8
Renzo
Unresolved anger is like cancer. It fucking spreads and destroys everything in its path.
I swing the bat at the fucker’s hip for the fourth time, and he howls with pain.
After posing as a buyer, Dario set up a meeting with this guy. He’s the one who sold Giulio’s information at the blood bank.
“Who the fuck did you give the information to?” I shout, unable to control my rage, as I slam the bat into his lower back.
“Please,” he begs through snot and tears. “Don’t kill me.”
We have him stripped down to his underwear, his body covered in bruises and blood.
Caught in a haze of white-hot wrath, I beat the fuck out of him until I’m breathless, and he’s a whimpering mess at my feet.
My body vibrates from the destructive emotions, and my voice is ice fucking cold as I ask, “Who did you sell the information to?”
“I only have…an email,” he whimpers. “I never…saw the person.”
“Give us the email,” I demand.
He lifts his head and tries to crawl a couple of feet away from me. “It’s on my phone.”
My eyes flick to Emilio, who quickly digs through the man’s clothes. Finding the cell phone, he brings it to me.
There’s no password, and when I go into the emails, I bark, “Which email?”
“The one from zero-three-six-snap,” he answers quickly, terror trembling in his voice.
Finding it, I forward the email to Dario with a request that he trace it.
I toss the device back to Emilio, then glare at the fucker on the floor. With hatred raging in my chest, I repeatedly bring the bat down on the fucker until I’m sure he’s dead.
That’s another one down, Giulio. I’ll find them all.
