“Sure,” she smiled, quickly kissing me. “Come on boys. Let’s go find your rooms.”
When she was out of earshot, I ordered, “Dwayne, Sal, let’s go have some fun.”
Sal and Dwayne grinned wickedly as I followed Marko down to the basement. I could hear the hitting of flesh from the last step and smiled.
Making my way to the far room, which was reserved for this very special thing, Sal opened the door, and the smell of urine, sweat, and blood immediately filled my nose.
Ah, a heady aroma of gratification.
“You miserable piece of shit!” Enzo said right before his fist connected with Demarco’s ribs. “You caused this family pain.”
“Sal, close the air grates. We don’t want Aunt Nikki coming down here again,” Dwayne said, slowly taking off his cut. Folding it and laying it over a chair, he walked over to Giuseppe, placed his hand on our cousin’s shoulder, and said. “Cousin.”
Giuseppe nodded, then turned back to the man hanging before him before flicking the whip in his hand and watched with merriment as it tore into the flesh, leaving a deep gash.
Angelo Demarco was bound, gagged, and hanging from one of the floor support beams, his arms spread wide. He was stripped naked, and Giuseppe was eager to exercise his deepest desires, which were inflicting pain from the looks of him.
I could see the table Giuseppe set up so perfectly.
Everything anyone could ever need to get information or torture someone to death. Giuseppe was a master at what he did. He didn’t speak much, preferring to let his hands do the talking.
Taking my seat in the old chair that once belonged to my father, I got comfortable knowing that I would be here a while. Taking out my phone, I went through my never-ending file of emails while my brothers and cousins all got a turn at Angelo. I would get my turn eventually.
After all, I was a patient man.
I nodded when Giuseppe placed a red folder on the small table next to me. I knew it contained all the information he gathered from Angelo Demarco. I was about to reach for it when I heard Paolo laugh. Looking over at my young cousin, I grinned. The young man was sitting at the small card table with Vittorio, Nico, and Eduardo, watching the Notre Dame college football game. Paolo was a huge Irish fan. We all were too, but nothing like Paolo.
“Who’s winning, Paolo?” Enzo asked as he walked over, wiping his hands with a white towel that was now smeared with blood.
“The Irish, of course. It’s 24-0. Stanford is 3-8 this season. The Irish need to win big, so they have a chance at the college playoffs. Ohio State lost today against Michigan, so they are out at number one.”
A loud snap had me looking at Giuseppe again as the whip slashed Demarco’s skin once again.
“My turn,” Dwayne said, removing his black shirt. Dwayne was always built but being in a motorcycle club, I could tell he really bulked up, and with all the tattoos decorating his body, my cousin was no longer the man I remembered. Looking at him now, he was harder, more muscular, dangerous, and when he made a fist and let it fly, I flinched when I heard a crack. I could remember every time Dwayne’s fist connected with my body. The pain he inflicted was intense, and the bruises lasted for weeks. Dwayne didn’t believe in doing anything by halves. No. My cousin believed that if he was going to hurt someone, it was his job to make sure they never got back up.
“Damn, D,” Sal said, walking over to Demarco to look at the damage. “I think you broke his jaw.”
“Fucker beat the shit out of my brother. I’m going to give him everything he gave Reggie and more. That’s right, mother fucker. I saw what you did to him. You tortured him and left him for dead. That’s what you wanted, huh? You wanted him to die out there, alone. You sealed your fate that day. Now it’s time to pay the piper,” And over the next forty minutes, Dwayne showed him precisely what he meant, until Sal walked over and stretched his arms and neck.
“My turn.”
As Dwayne sat taking a break, Sal had his turn.
Those two were so much alike it was unreal. They fed off each other. Mainly, they drove each other crazy most of the time, but they both shared the same thought when it came down to punishments. Inflict as much damage and pain as possible.
Sal was in mid-swing when we all heard footsteps. Looking at the newcomer, I said nothing as Carmine walked over to inspect the damage. “Not bad, Salvatore, and what did this gentleman do to deserve this?”
Dwayne grunted. “He ain’t no gentleman. He fucked with my brother and his woman, and he’s lucky to be breathing.”
Carmine whistled, “You, my friend, must have a death wish. Even I know not to mess with a man’s woman. May I have a turn? It’s been a while since I’ve been able to get my hands dirty.”
Sal stepped back and waved his arm in Demarco’s direction. “He’s all yours.”
“Grazie,” Carmine said, removing his suit jacket.
I don’t know how long I sat there in my chair as my brothers, cousins, and Carmine each took their turns. It was only fitting in my book. Having Reggie and Dwayne leave without a word put a strain on our family, and we missed them dearly. Then to find out that a man I trusted was behind not only their disappearance but the sale of his own sister, well, that was unforgivable.
I could be a lenient, understanding man. All anyone had to do was take the time and come to me and tell me what was wrong. I would talk with them and help them if I could.