Dan and Brett went to work, quickly slicing the tape with their pocket knives then strapping my uncle to the chair. Zan’s head lolled, wobbling back and forth like his neck wasn’t supporting the weight.

“Take the gag off.”

Dan grabbed the corner of the duct tape, pulling roughly, and the tear could be heard throughout the room.

Zan quickly used his tongue to dislodge the fabric from his mouth.

“You ready to talk?” I asked, walking in front of him. I widened my stance, locking my knees and crossing my arms over my chest.

“Fuck off,” Zan raged.

Val picked up a metal tool and hit Zan in the back, and he jolted from the pain.

“What do you want to talk about?” His words came out a bit slurred. I knew I shouldn’t have given him that punch to the jaw earlier.

Using my steel-toed boot, I kicked his shin hard, eliciting a grunt. “Don’t fucking play around with me. Do you know something about my father’s death or not?”

“Told you it was Sal.” He was lying, toying with me. He would pay for that.

Val moved fast, coming to the side of me. “I knew this would be fun. Fucker, get ready.”

Zan shook his head. “That’s all I know.”

“We’ll see about that.” Val stomped off to the blue chests along the wall, opening and shutting doors quickly, slamming a few on the way. Then he turned, walking toward us with a hammer in one hand and pliers in the other.

Walking up to the chair, he reached under the left side where Zan’s hand was and pulled a small table out, attaching it in front of the straps and securing Zan’s hand on it, his fingers spread.

Val lifted his right hand that was holding the hammer and, with all of his strength, swung it down to the table. A loud crunch echoed throughout the room as Zan’s index finger shattered before my eyes. Blood seeped from the open wounds the hammer had left, and his finger now had a zigzag pattern to it.

Zan gritted his teeth hard, remaining quiet and impassive, the only indication of his pain in the far recesses of his eyes.

Val did the same to Zan’s middle and ring fingers, crushing each with the same force.

I stepped back and watched the show as Val asked Zan questions he wouldn’t answer. Val moved on to the other hand without so much as a peep of protest from Zan.

The door swung open as Sal stepped across the threshold, his large frame and powerful presence making the already small room feel ten times smaller instantly.

“What does your uncle have to say?” Sal asked, moving to the side wall.

“Nothing,” I uttered, more pissed. Zan was a waste of fucking time.

Zan’s head flew up, his eyes sweeping over Sal as an evil smile came back to his face. “You’re here, you worthless piece of shit.”

Val swiftly kicked Zan’s leg from the side, at which Zan grunted before he continued. “I was just telling my idiot of a nephew that you were the one who slit his father’s throat, but he doesn’t want to believe me,” he scoffed.

The heat inside my body was ready to explode. For months, I had searched for this asshole. Months away from Catarina. Now this fucking cat and mouse game?

Sal moved toward Zan, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his switchblade. “Because you’re fucking lying, you piece of shit. The question is, why?” Sal asked, flipping open the blade. “Why even bring it up after all these years?”

Zan’s eyes grew, but it didn’t stop him. “Because you did it, you worthless piece of shit. You killed my brother. You did it. I fucking know it.”

Sal stepped even closer, the menace in his eyes murderous, while I sat back, watching, wondering why the fuck Zan hated Sal so damn much and how this all rolled back to my father.

“I didn’t fucking kill him,” Sal said adamantly before taking the knife and dragging it across his neck. “But I will fucking kill you.”

“See, idiot boy,” Zan addressed me as anger bubbled at his term for me. “This is what a man does. He takes out his threats, just like he did Geo. You’ll get to see exactly how he killed your father.”

Sal stopped for a moment reflecting a bit in thought and tossed the knife to the floor, pulling out his gun.

“What about Flynn?” I asked before Sal had a chance to put the bullet in him.

“I’m no fucking rat. Torture me all you fucking want; I’ll say nothing more.”

As much as I would love to continue beating the shit out of him, it wouldn’t turn back time. Plus, this shit was merely wasting more of it. I nodded up to Sal.

“I’ve heard enough of your shit. I didn’t kill him.”

“Jag, say hi to that beautiful Catarina for me.”

Sal raised his gun and shot, the bullet piercing Zan’s chest. His body jerked and lurched to the side, but the straps kept him in place. Blood fell from his mouth; however, he wasn’t done yet, his words difficult to understand. With his cryptic words, he gasped for his last breath.

I kicked his body and bent down to feel a pulse, finding nothing.

“It’s done. Clean this shit up,” Sal ordered.

“Damn, Dad. I wanted to play.” Val picked up his tools, placing them back in the boxes.

Sal ignored him. “Jag, I’m sorry about what happened with your father. Son, I know your father’s death was hard, but you can’t allow it to cloud your judgment.”

I nodded, feeling exactly like what Zan had called me—an idiot.

“It won’t.” I said those words with every bit of certainty I could muster.

“Get out of here and get a shower before you head back.”

Now was as good a time as any. I had been trying to figure out when I was going to tell them I wasn’t going back, and he had just given me an opening.

“I’m not going back. I’m staying here with Catarina.”

Sal pulled back at my words, crossing his arms over his chest. “Last I heard, she wasn’t speaking with you, no.”

“It’s been a while, but that won’t stop me.” I held strong, knowing Sal would take me out if I fucked her over, but all I intended on doing was fucking her stupid and opening her eyes to what we could have.

“I didn’t think it would. She’s been edgy lately, but puts on a good show. Maybe you can find out what’s going on with my girl.” His words struck me. She was the one who had cut it off, so I had figured she would be fine, happy. Even Kiera didn’t let on to any of this.

“I will.”

 

Chapter 14

I DIDN’T SLEEP for shit after that fucking note. Kiera was seriously thinking of committing me. That morning, I had it out with the coffee pot. For some reason, it didn’t want to brew fast enough for me, so I threw it to the floor, shattering glass everywhere.

After hearing the combustion of glass on the tile, I slid down to the floor. The glass lay there like all the broken pieces of me, scattered everywhere. Each piece was a representation of how everything I held dear could be destroyed in an instant.

I laid my hand on the floor, only to cut myself and watch the blood trickle, each drop cementing the knots inside. I couldn’t take it much longer. I was stronger than this, but add my family into the mix, and helplessness was turning me into someone I hated to even be around.

Work that morning sucked six ways to Sunday. A client called me, giving me an earful about his damn money. I swore I was going to unleash a side of me soon that would have him backing the fuck off really quickly.

Everything I seemed to touch throughout the day broke or fell to the ground the instant it made contact with me. I broke two drawers in my desk. Two. Then I decided, since they were already broken, I might as well slam them a few times and really break them. It didn’t settle the anger bubbling inside. If anything, it helped fuel it. This war inside of me was tearing me down day by day.

As I sat in my office, I rested my elbows on top of the desk and sunk my hands into my hair as I looked down at it, the shiny wood staring back at me. My internal struggles were beating me into submission.