“Prepare me for what?”
His eyes searched all around us, as if he was trying to find the right words. He sighed. “We do what we need to survive. And sometimes that requires us to be…monsters.”
I stepped closer. “Castello, what are you trying to say?”
“What I’m trying to say is that no matter what happens, you need to trust me. I need to know you trust me.” He looked at me pleadingly, his gaze etched on mine. Something bad was about to happen. I could feel it in every bone of my body. It was the same feeling I felt when Castello dragged me to that dreaded dining hall where I was put on display like a goddamn animal. Back then, I didn’t trust him. The question is…did I trust him now?
“Can you do that, Tatum? Can you trust me?”
I searched his face, trying to make sense of the jumbled mess my mind had become. There wasn’t a coherent thought inside my head when it came to this man—when it came to how I felt about him…about us. But after everything that had happened, something clawed and scraped at the back of my mind, urging me to trust him.
“Yes,” I whispered, and it was like a veil of relief fell over him.
“Good.”
He opened the door, and I stepped inside. When I saw the scene in front of me, I balked and could hear every beat of my heart echoing through my head.
“What is going on?”
I stared with apprehension at a man tied to a chair. Blood dripped from his nose, the tape covering his mouth stained with crimson. The fear in his eyes was something no one would have been able to miss. He was completely naked, his wrists and ankles tied to the chair. His hands and feet were stained with blood from trying to free himself.
There was a soft touch at the hollow of my back. “This is where we become monsters, Tatum.”
I shot my gaze up to Castello’s, staring at him as a thousand questions ran through my mind.
He straightened the lapels of his jacket, and it was like he pulled on the mask of a man who had no fear, someone who exuded authority, demanding the respect of every one that stood in his presence. He wore the face of the man I met when I woke up in a cell, dressed in a rag.
Uncle Gino was there along with four other men, guns at their sides, demonic looks on their faces. I recognized one other man. It was the same man who was there the first time I saw Castello. The man he referred to as “Doc,” the man who pushed a needle into my skin.
That same gnawing instinct that urged me to trust Castello now warned me I wasn’t going to like whatever was about to happen.
Castello moved to stand in front of me, his back toward the rest of the crowd. “You will not say a word unless spoken to. I’m breaking a lot of rules by having you here. Don’t make me regret it.”
“I don’t want to be here,” I blurted out with panic. Every instinct I had told me I most definitely did not want to be there.
He stepped closer. “I want you here.”
“Why?”
“It’s the only way.”
“The only way for what?” But Castello had already turned around, abruptly ending our conversation.
I swallowed hard as I braved another look at the man tied to a goddamn chair. By the bruises and the blood on his face, he had already been beaten. He looked like…he looked like my father did…just before Vico killed him.
“Tell me, Ricardo, do you know why you’re here today?” Castello’s voice was hard, low, and intimidating as hell. No wonder the man was trembling.
The man frantically shook his head, muffled moans coming from behind the tape covering his mouth.
Castello stopped in front of him, reached out, and ripped the tape off his mouth. The sound sent chills down my spine as I watched the skin around Ricardo’s lips turn a dark shade of red.
Castello dropped the piece of tape to the floor. “Talk.”
“I…I…I don’t—”
Castello slapped him through the face, his head jerking to the side. I yelped softly as the crack burst through the room with sickening force.
Castello grabbed his chin and made the man look at him. “Now let’s try again. And this time, don’t stutter. Do you know why you’re here?”