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The man is my opposite in every way. It’s a fucking miracle we’re friends because the only thing we have in common is the Cosa Nostra.
Opening the can, he leans back against the island before taking a sip. He clears his throat, then asks, “Have you found out anything new?”
I shake my head. “We keep chasing a bunch of emails and phone numbers. It’s pissing me off.”
“Maybe it’s time to grab the doctor. He’ll definitely know something we can use.”
I nod while taking another bite, and only after I’ve swallowed do I say, “Yeah, I’m thinking the same thing.”
“And Davies and his daughter?”
“Same thing.” I take the can of soda from his hands and help myself to a couple of sips before passing it back to him. “I’ll have Carlos and Emilio bring them to the warehouse after I’ve cleared out the shipment of AKs for the Mexicans.”
“When is that happening?” he asks as he starts crunching on popcorn again.
“In three days.”
His eyes meet mine. “Are you really going to kill the woman?”
I stare at him for a solid minute. “Eventually.”
His eyebrows lift. “What does that mean?”
“I’m first going to torture them,” I answer as I put the empty plate in the sink before walking to the living room.
Dario plops down on one of the couches. “Torture? The woman as well?”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Careful. It sounds like you have a hardon for Skylar Davies, brother.”
“Not by a long shot. I’m just thinking she might be innocent in this fucking mess.”
My eyes flick to his. “Innocent? You’re kidding, right? Giulio’s kidney is buried in her fucking body.”
Dario holds my stare as he says, “That’s her father’s doing, Renzo. She might not know where the kidney came from. Did you even think about that?”
I give him a look of warning. “I’m done talking about this.”
He lets out a heavy breath, then nods. “I just don’t want you doing something you’ll regret.”
“I fucking regret not protecting Giulio better, but I sure as fuck will not regret killing anyone involved in his death.”
Considering the conversation over, I walk to the stairs. “You can let yourself out.”
Dario darts up from the couch and grabs hold of my arm.
When I turn to face him, he says, “I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to upset you. I’m just looking out for you.”
I lock eyes with him, and seeing the worry on his face, I say, “It’s fine.”
“We’re good?”
I pat his shoulder. “We’re good. I’m heading to bed. Switch off the lights on your way out.”
“You’re not going to give the junk you just ate time to digest?”
I shake my head. “No. Goodnight, Dario.”
Walking to my bedroom, I sit down on the side of the bed and cover my face with my hands. I exhale a heavy breath as the grief and anger swirl in my chest.
