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As soon as I’d peeled away from my house and was at the end of the street, I turned to Raf. “How the hell did he get in?” I growled, my hands gripping the steering wheel with so much force that the bones in my knuckles looked like they were about to break through the skin.
Raf groaned as he reached up to his head and brought his fingers back down, blood coating them. “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.”
I ground my teeth together so damn hard that I heard one crack. The tenseness of my muscles was too much to bear, too much for me to handle, but there was nothing I could do about it. Not until we got to the one place I’d been dying to take this fucker.
So many times I’d dreaded going there, but for once, I needed it. I needed what my father had taught me. I needed to do the most amount of damage possible.
“Call Dad,” I told Raf.
He didn’t answer me, instead, he pulled his cell out and got to talking, all the while, my gaze was trained on the road ahead, making sure I didn’t break a single traffic law. The last thing I needed right then was to get pulled over and them to find Gio in the trunk of my car.
“He’s preparing the shed.”
“Good,” I gritted out, not able to say another word.
I was angry at Raf for not protecting Bailey, for letting her get hurt by that monster. But most of my rage was directed at me. If I hadn’t left early…if I would have done a better job at protecting her. I only had one panic button installed in my house and I was berating myself for not having more. She was upstairs when I’d left the house, the shower running, which meant she’d had to fight her way to the bottom of the stairs just to alert me.
Fuck.
I slammed my fist off the steering wheel over and over again, needing the burning pain in my knuckles. I was antsy,needingto hurt something—or someone—mainly that piece of shit in my trunk.
The familiar end of the street came into view and memories of watching kids on their bikes ride up and down the road flashed in my brain, but so did the fact that I was on the outside of it, never allowed to mingle with the other kids.
I used to think it was so unfair, but in that moment as I pulled up to the side of the house and got out of my car, I was grateful for what I’d been taught, because without it, I wouldn’t be able to do every single thing I had planned.
Popping open the trunk, I stared at Gio. The last thing I wanted to do was touch this goddamn dickhead, but I didn’t have a choice. So I grabbed him under both arms, sneering at his still open pants. He’d done that so he could get to Bailey, a thought that begged me to pull my gun out and shoot the entire clip into his disgusting body.
I wouldn’t though. I’d make him suffer before he inhaled his final breath on this earth.
“Want help?” Raf asked, following us.
“Nope,” I grunted. “I’ve got this.”
And I did have it, dragging him along the ground all the way to the shed where Dad was waiting. His expression was guarded, not letting a single emotion slip free, not like he did when I came home to find him talking to Bailey. I still didn’t understand it, didn’t get why he’d come to see her or why he’d looked at her in that weird, but knowing way.
“Ready?” my father asked.
I didn’t answer him as I pulled Gio into the shed and tied him to the chair that Dad had set up. It was his usual setup, a tried-and-true one. And for right now, I needed what worked, I needed to get into the rhythm.
I needed to hurt this motherfucker.
“Go inside, Rafael,” Dad told Raf. “Get cleaned up and some rest. You’re going to need it.”
Raf opened his mouth, but one curt look from me had him backing away and closing the door behind him. I didn’t have time or patience for anything but the damage I was about to inflict.
Silence echoed around me, my father, and Gio. Gio was still out cold, but my father and I were analyzing, deciding what to do—what avenue to take.
Nodding to myself, I turned to the table where all of the tools were set out and picked up my favorite one, then turned back and headed right for Gio.
I gripped the edge of his nail with the pliers, not bothering to take my time as I yanked, ripping his nail off. It didn’t come clean off though, instead it snapped in ragged sharp edges. I followed it up with another one, then another, and finally, on the fourth time, he woke up, his eyes snapping open, panic shining in them.
“Ah, you’re finally awake.” I grinned at him, snatching his nail clean from his finger and loving the scream that he let slip from his lips. “Now we can have some real fun.”
“Fun?” He laughed, the corner of his eyes wrinkling at the force of it. “I had some fun today with your little pet.” My hands clenched at my sides, the pliers digging into the flesh. “She’s real tight that one.” His lips morphed into a grin. “But you already know that, huh?”
“Keep talking,” my father said from behind him, his voice threatening. It was what I called “the torture tone.” It always had me on edge, and if Gio’s paling face was anything to go by, he was shitting himself just like I used to. “Run that disgusting mouth of yours,” my dad continued, circling him and coming to a stop right next to him. “It’ll make everything we’re going to do to you that much sweeter.”
“Fuck you,” Gio spat, but the conviction that had been there seconds ago was gone, evaporated into thin air. He knew the stories of my father, the hurt and anguish he’d caused many men over the years. The thing was, they weren’t stories, they were facts. Cold, hard facts.
