Benny steps up, a hunting knife in his hand. “You’ll never have to worry about thinking with this again.” With a vicious slice, he cuts off Geno’s dick. Then he yanks the gag away and stuffs it down Geno’s throat. He gags, but Benny wraps the fabric around his head, forcing him to keep his dick in his mouth even as he tries to vomit it out.
Red goes next, slicing off his ears and tossing them to the bloody grate. Then Sonny, who’s always favored blunt instruments—he embeds the claw end of a hammer into his shoulder.
I turn and address the men. “This is what happens if you fuck with us. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir!” The words are a wall of sound, each man declaring his loyalty.
I walk to the table and grab a bone saw, then turn to Geno, the fire burning in my soul reaching new heights. “Now it’s my turn.”
20
LUCRETIA
My head aches, but not too bad, and my back is sore. Those are my first sensations as I struggle to consciousness. The first thing I notice is the sound of birds chirping in the trees near the house. It’s morning. The second are the light snores coming from Lito who’s hunched over in a chair by my bedside.
“Hey.” I reach out and touch his hand.
He blinks his eyes open and sits up. “Ouch!” He reaches for his lower back. “That’s stiff. But you’re awake! And you look like hell.” He frowns.
“You’ve looked better, yourself.” I give a wan smile.
“Does it hurt? Are you in pain?”
“I’m all right, I think.” I sit up. It sends a pulse of achiness to my head, but it’s bearable.
He fluffs my pillow behind me and sits on the bed next to me. “I’m sorry.” He holds my hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were in—”
“It’s okay. There’s no way you could’ve known.” I squeeze his fingers. “And he didn’t hurt me—”
He winces. “He did, Lucretia. On my watch.”
“It’s not your fault, Lito. I promise.” I squeeze his fingers. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“I do. But even if I didn’t, Mateo would. He’s gone off the deep end more than usual.”
“He has?”
“Yeah. He and the guys have been out at the stables all night.”
“He went horseback riding?” I don’t know why that strikes me as hilarious, but it does, and a strange giggle escapes me. “That’s how he blows off steam, huh?”
His lips thin a little as he presses them together.
“Oh.” I stop laughing. “Oh, does ‘the stables’ mean something else?”
“You remember the door I showed you? The one I said that you should never open?”
“The one by the tack room?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
I get a cold tingle down my spine.
“They’ve been in there all night … with Geno.”
I blanch when I hear his name.
“Sorry.” He pats my hand. “Sorry, darling.”
“No, it’s okay. I guess it makes sense that Mateo would discipline him or have a meeting or whatever. It makes him look bad if his men take advantage of me, I guess.”
Lito gives me a befuddled look. “You think he’s mad at Geno for making him look bad?”
I get a flash of Mateo sitting beside me, my hand in his as he asks me questions. Real questions—ones about my life. Was that real or was I dreaming?
“What did the doctor give me?” I rub my eyes.
“I don’t know. I wanted some, though, but I didn’t ask for any. I knew I was going to be here to keep watch. Can’t be tripped out on morphine when I’m supposed to be protecting you.”
“You don’t have to protect me.”
“I do.” He leans over and kisses my forehead. “I’m so sorry.” When he pulls back his eyes are glassy. “I should’ve been there.”
“Don’t. If you cry, then I have to cry.” I pull him into a hug. “So don’t cry.”
“I’m so sorry.”
I squeeze him harder. “I’m okay. I’m tougher than I look.”
“I know.” He sniffles.
“Don’t get snot in my hair. With the stitches, I have no idea when I’ll be able to wash it again.”
He laughs. “There she is.”
“But really.” I pull him away. “I’m going to be fine. He didn’t do what he tried to do. I scratched the shit out of him and ran.”
“I’m certain he wishes you’d killed him.”
“Mateo’s that mad?”
“I haven’t seen him like that in … ever, maybe?” He grabs a water bottle from the nightstand and hands it to me. “Drink this. I’m going to get Carter to whip us up some waffles with extra syrup. Be back soon.”
“Okay.” I take a long drink of the water as he walks out, but then he pauses at the door.
“Yell if you need me. I’ll be listening.”
“Stop worrying. Mateo’s home.” I say it so easily, as if Mateo being here means I’m safe. But even though he’s gone out of his way to prove the contrary, I really do feel safer that he’s here. When he found me last night, I didn’t feel fear. I felt relief. I felt … glad. I was able to melt into him as he carried me to safety.