The Wrath of Cain(60)

“Listen, they’ll be back here soon. I know they will. He knows Dad won’t give up until he finds him. Royal has crossed the line this time. He’s broken a contract.”

All of a sudden Manny stops talking. All I can hear are his sharp, shallow breaths. I’m worried for him. The excruciating pain he must be in triples the pain I am beginning to feel now that the heroin is wearing off.

“Manny, talk to me. I… I’m so sorry. I can’t do anything to help.”

I wait for what feels like an eternity for him to answer, and when he does, his voice is strained. He’s fighting to try and get out every word he can.

“Royal works for the Russians,” he winces. My heart is breaking for him. “My dad and the Russians have an agreement. You stay out of my way and I stay out of yours. The Russians deal with drugs, prostitution. You name it and they do it.”

Another deep breath escapes him.

“I’m going to tell you the truth. All of it. Unless they find us, he’ll be back to kill me, Calla. You need to prepare yourself. Fuck!” he screams.

“How do you know that?”

“Because this is one of my dad’s warehouses. He wants us to be found. He’s f*cking nuts. Just stay calm and keep your mouth shut. I don’t think he wants you dead. He’s going to use you for leverage or some sort of negotiation. No matter what happens to me, you have to promise me you will not fight him.”

“I don’t know if I can promise you that.”

Manny doesn’t say anything after that as once again, bright lights shine down on us.

“You’re both awake. This is great. Now it’s Manny’s turn to watch. You wanted her baby, come and get her. Just remember she cannot die. I need her alive.”

I turn my head just in time to be punched in the face by none other than Emerald herself.





Chapter Twenty-One


Cain




I’ve never known true fear until today. Salvatore’s words gobble up my every thought, working my imagination overtime. I’ve heard of Royal’s work. He’s messy. He never cleans up. How he has gotten away with this for as many years as he has is beyond me. Ivan obviously has cops in his pocket just like this family does.

But this is a completely different story. He has my wife and my best friend. I need to get the f*ck out of here. Lola is a mess, Cecily is a mess, and John was due back here hours ago and no one has heard a damn thing from him.

The front door flies open. A disheveled looking John walks in holding a box, violently kicking the door shut behind him.

“Jesus, man. Are you all right?”

He’s white. His hair is a mess. I know he’s in pain. He refused any pain medication from the doctor. Told everyone his mind needs to be clear.

“Where’s Salvatore?” he says sharply as he walks past me towards Salvatore’s office. “And Cecily and Lola?”

“I’m not sure where they are. In their rooms, maybe? I’ve been in the family room going out of my mind.”

“Let’s just hope they stay where they are. They don’t need to see or hear this.”

His voice sounds rougher than normal. Something is wrong, I can feel it. Whatever happened is troubling him in a bad way. A way that he wants to keep from the ladies. I don’t like this feeling at all.

Breaking his fast paced stride, he crouches down, placing the box on the floor and his hands on his knees. I’m by his side in an instant.

“John. What the f*ck is wrong?”

A dark shadow crosses over his face.

“Fuck me!” he roars, crumpling to the floor.

Salvatore pushes through his office door.

“What the hell?”

“Hell if I know. He came barreling in here with that in his hand. Asked about Lola and Cecily and then collapsed on the floor.”

Salvatore reaches for the box.

“Don’t open that!”

John gets off of the floor, his entire body shaking, and snatches it up. He’s got to be in pain, not only from the accident, but for Calla and Manny. I’ve never in all my years of knowing him seen him so agitated.

“In your office,” John demands.

The three of us walk in. Salvatore shuts the door and locks it.

“I need a drink.”

John moves to the cabinet, grabs a bottle of Johnny, twists the cap off, and guzzles it like water. Without putting the cap back on, he sets it back on the top of the cabinet, turning to the both of us and exhaling loudly.

“Goddamn it! You better tell me what the hell is going on and now!” Salvatore shouts.

“Shit. This was delivered at the gate about five minutes before I got here. I told them I would bring it up. It’s… f*ck!”

He runs a hand through his already messed up hair.

“It’s what?” Salvatore moves to him, takes the box out of his hands, and lifts the lid.

“Jesus Christ!”

“What is it?”

I move to the two of them. My stomach rolls when I see the bloodied finger lying in the box alongside of a flash drive. Salvatore stands there, unable to move. The finger has got to be Manny’s. Good God, he was right. They are torturing him.

“How? How could my own son do this? How could I have failed as a father?”