1
Levi
The sweet sound of bone crunching beneath my baseball bat does nothing to ease the fury rippling through my veins.
Someone knows where the fuck Shayne is, and I won’t be leaving until I’ve cut out every last tongue that refuses to talk. Though I can’t guarantee that my brothers or I won’t end these bastards’ miserable lives before we get around to finding out Shayne’s location. What can I say? We’re desperate, and you can't blame a desperate man for what he does with a weapon in his hand, especially when it comes to Shayne Mariano.
“I’m growing impatient,” I rumble, my chest vibrating with anger as the sheer image of my father torturing Shayne makes my stomach churn with unease. God knows that girl has already suffered enough at our hands, she doesn’t need my father’s bullshit as well.
My stare pierces into the guard’s dead eyes and there’s no doubt that he’s saying his final prayers. If this fucker doesn’t start talking and tell me where the hell my girl is, he won’t live to see another sunrise, let alone another fucking minute.
Who am I kidding? He could tell me everything I want to know and offer me a fucking door-to-door service to go and collect her and I still wouldn’t let this asshole walk out of here alive. Even if he doesn’t know a damn thing. That’s just the price you pay for being one of my father’s henchmen. This is the life you sign up for.
My father’s guard spits a mouthful of blood at my feet and glares up at me through his thick row of dark lashes. “Go to hell.”
Well, shit. Now he’s gone and done it.
Rage pulses through me and I let out a roar as my bat swings toward his ribs with the kind of force that would have even my father worshiping at my feet. The bat crushes his ribs, and the satisfaction is barely enough to keep me breathing.
The guard cries out before quickly turning his pain into a low, furious growl, clenching his hands into tight fists. He sweats, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he clenches his jaw, trying not to scream as his bones shatter under my bat. I’ve got to give it to the guy, he’s tough. He’s putting in a good effort, but only a few short days ago, I looked him dead in the eye just moments before he shot taser prongs into Shayne’s scarred, aching body, and dropped her to the ground in our fucking driveway. That image spurs me on.
Nobody takes from the DeAngelis brothers and gets away with it, especially not my father.
Watching him hold his tongue has irritation burning through my veins, and the helplessness begins to overwhelm me. It’s been two days. Two long fucking days and every passing second is another second that we’re letting her down.
My brothers fume silently behind me. They’ve tortured enough motherfuckers over the past forty-eight hours to know how this is going to end. One glance at Roman tells me that he’s moments from stepping in and handling this himself, while a scathing look from Marcus warns me that he’s about to break.
It’s one thing to have one DeAngelis brother at breaking point, but to push all three of us to the edge and threaten to push us over, that means heads will roll, blood will be spilled, and patience will be tested—patience that not one of us possess.
The guard’s head tilts up and he looks to the darkened ceiling, sucking short pants through his clenched jaw, and I don’t doubt that his shattered ribs have punctured a lung. “Last warning before I cut out your tongue. Where the fuck is she?”
The guard roars, fighting against his binds, and as his eyes drop from the ceiling to meet mine once again, I know exactly how this is going to go. “Like I would ever tell you sick bastards.”
I gently swing the bat in front of me, just enough to catch against his junk and watch the fear in his eyes as I lean into it, slowly crushing everything beneath it. “What a shame,” I murmur, truly let down by his inability to make a good decision. “In another life, you would have made a good soldier for us. We would have even treated you well. A soldier who refuses to talk is an asset, but you’re also a soldier who let his guard down enough to get captured, and that to us is nothing but a pain in the ass.”
His breaths become more ragged and forced as his glare sharpens with hostility. “I will never work for you.”
Marcus laughs and pushes off the bloodied counter, slowly striding toward our hostage as I ease off his balls and let the bat hang by my side. Marcus drops his gaze to the red scar across the top of his hand from where Shayne stabbed him and ultimately claimed his heart, and that one small gesture tells me that everything he does from this moment on is for her.
“Look at you, assuming you’ll be able to make decisions like who you work for after this,” Marcus mutters, walking around the guard until he’s standing behind his chair, the harsh light gently rocking above them. “Let me be very clear. You will not be walking out of here alive. You will die here tonight, but it is your choice as to how that happens. It can be quick, or it can be the most brutal death any man could possibly experience. You know where he’s keeping her. Just tell us what we need to know and we will be kind. Keep biting your tongue though, and Roman will tear out your throat with his bare hands.”
Roman straightens beside me at the thought of brutally murdering this man.
“I ain’t saying shit,” the guard spits, flinching away from Marcus as he inches even closer.
“Such a fool,” Marcus laughs. “Are you that terrified of our father, or do you foolishly believe that you owe him your loyalty?”
The guard clenches his jaw and studiously stares across the room, avoiding eye contact, and our answer is crystal clear. This man is a little bitch with no backbone and absolutely no sign of a set of balls. Fuck, Shayne has a bigger set of balls than this guy.
Roman inches closer, slipping his hand deep into his pocket and gripping the long, steep pin that I know he’s hiding in there. He glances down at the pathetic excuse of a man with nothing but disgust. “You’re an idiot to fear our father over us. You do not owe him your loyalty. After all, he knows you’re here and he’s left you to die. He’s not coming to save you. Nothing will stand in our way of ending your life tonight, so be smart about this. Tell us what we need to know, and you will die quickly, otherwise, you will learn the hard way that all those stories, all those whispers you’ve always heard about us are true.”
The guard swallows hard but his dickish, stubborn nature keeps his mouth shut.
Roman pulls the long metal pin from his pocket and I take a step to the side. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” Roman warns, his tone thick with venom. “Where is Giovanni keeping Shayne Mariano?”
The guard raises his chin in defiance and a wicked grin stretches over his lips. “That mouth of yours sure would look good wrapped around my cock.”
Ahhh, fuck. We’re in for a long night.