The Wrath of Cain (The Syndicate, #1)(62)

John grabs my arm.

“You need to get your head on straight right the f*ck now.”

We have a stare down. I know he’s right. I’ve never done anything like this before. I take a few calm breaths before speaking.

“Tell me what you want me to do. Just don’t tell me I have to wait out here. I need to see her just as badly as you do.”

“Fuck! You listen to me. I want Royal. Calla may be your wife, but she’s my little girl. And no matter how much blood has been lost between Salvatore and his son, he won’t kill him. But I will. I go in alone.”

I slump against the headrest. My heart explodes in my chest, bouncing around like a f*cking ball.

“I know you want to see her. Hell, I know better than anyone the means you’ve gone to, to protect her. But Cain, this is not a job for you. I’m not saying you can’t pull the trigger on that sweet ass Glock of yours,” he adds wryly.

I chuckle. The motherf*cker doesn’t miss a damn thing.

“What I’m saying is, I’m trained for this. I already have so much blood on my hands. I won’t allow you or Calla to have to live with the shit that runs through my head every day. I love the both of you too much. I have no clue where my daughter’s head will be at when I get her out of there. She’s going to need you to be strong for her. Be that man.”

Shit, he’s scaring the hell out of me. I know he means well, but f*ck me if he’s not in a roundabout kind of way telling me he’s not sure if he will come out alive.

“What I need you to do is tell me exactly where in that warehouse they are.”

The faint smell of cigarette smoke fills my nostrils. John is the one man who I know will get her out alive, even if it costs him his own life. I recite two times exactly what I saw on that flash drive. His demeanor shifts from burning rage to the coldest of ice.

“I hope Salvatore and Lola will be able to forgive me for this. I’m not letting Royal off easily, not by a long shot. I’m going to make that piece of shit suffer. By the time I’m done with him, he’ll regret the day he caused this war against his father. No one touches my daughter.”

With that, John is gone. I sit in the car, my face looking up into the dark, clouded sky. I don’t know if John was trying to convince me or himself that he would come out of there alive. It’s the first time John has left me with any kind of doubt. Shit is about to be real, and son of a bitch if I’m not worried.

Salvatore turns from his position outside of the car, his eyes filled with regret and sadness. He knows what’s about to happen. How could he not? John works for him. He’s also very aware of the type of cold, hard killer his son is.

I run my hands through my hair. I need something, anything, to help me keep my mind from its negative thoughts. A cigarette. Smoke inhaling through my nose. Into my lungs. That’s what I need.

Exiting the car, I bum a few from one of the guys, then sit back in the car and fire it up. I suck in the deep aroma, letting it fill my lungs before I exhale. It does nothing. I put it out just as quickly as I lit the damn thing and lean my head back. I watch two ambulances pull in. The EMTs get out and shake hands with Salvatore. I watch him work his magic with all the men around him.

I don’t envy him at this precise moment. He’s a good man, a decent man. One who doesn’t deserve to be fighting the unknown of what’s happening inside his warehouse. He didn’t even see what was in that video, and yet, I know he knows. He’s aware of everything. Controls everything. I stay focused on him. He may be acting in control right now, his words rough and his smile tight. But he’s not. His shoulders are slouched. He keeps checking his phone and his watch. The building up the road.

I survey him until I feel like I have him all figured out. Until I see him look once more toward the building. The building that holds my heart.

“I want to ask you something, Calla.”

I remember that moment so well in my mind. The way her eyes got huge. The strange look she gave me.

“What? That you want to marry me?” she’d teased, her head lying in my lap. We were at the park that day. Moms were pushing their children on the swings. We were surrounded by laughter, though somehow it seemed it was only the two of us.

“How the hell did you know I was going to ask you?”

I puffed out my chest like the badass teenager I thought I was. She pushed herself up off of my lap and started jumping up and down, screaming.

“Yes! A thousand times, yes!”

We talked it all out. Planned it all out. Thought we would have the world at our feet and that no one would be able to keep us apart again. Little did we know the very same day she became my wife, she would be ripped away from me by the one person I trusted. And now, when I finally have her back, have a chance to prove to her that I love her so damn much I ache, I can’t do anything but sit in this car and stare at that front door. Willing it to open.





Chapter Twenty-Two


Calla



My head is thrown back by her punch, though it barely scrapes the surface of the pain my body is in. She hovers above me, her tiny frame seeming so much smaller than I remember. Drugs will do that to you. Make you lose your appetite. The only craving you have is the desire for your next hit, your next score, or whatever the hell you call it. She’s a f*cking druggie.

I tilt my head to the side, doing my best to try and muffle the sounds of my cries from the sudden jolt to my shoulder. The numbness from holding it still for so long causing a surge of the worst pain I have ever had to progress its way down my arm.