Page 23 of Climbing Everest

Kato

S itting behind my desk, I pick up my phone for what feels like the hundredth time, checking for a text, missed call, anything.

Brix took Everest to the tattoo place hours ago. And yeah, I know that shit can take a while, but it’s closing in on eleven at night and they left around ten this morning. No way should it take almost twelve hours.

Fuck it. I pull up the app to the tracker I had Nick implant on Everest while she was out cold.

It isn’t moving.

What pisses me off and mildly concerns me is the location. Brix took her to his penthouse in the building he bought a year ago.

What the fuck are they doing there? We all came up with the same plan to break her the way she broke us, to build her into something she would despise – an obedient, perfect little mafia wife.

But they’ve been gone for hours.

Fucker better not have killed her. I might still harbor hate and resentment toward her, but I want her to suffer for what she put us through, not die.

Sure, there was a time when I pictured wrapping my hands around her throat and watching as the life left her pretty gray eyes.

But now…

Nah. Death would be way too easy. She needs to feel every single moment of pain she forced us to endure.

The hardwood squeaks lightly as Madd paces down the hall yet again. He’s been roaming the halls, up and down the stairs, even into the basement for a few hours.

His head peeks around the doorframe. “Where the fuck are they?” he growls.

I hold up my phone, screen aimed at him. “Looks like he took her to his penthouse.”

Madd’s dark brows slam together, and he steps further into the room. “Why the fuck would

he take her there instead of bringing her back here? That wasn’t part of the plan.”

Not that we actually formed a carved-in-stone plan, but sequestering her away for whatever Brix is doing definitely wasn’t part of what we have planned for the little whore.

I shrug and drop the phone onto the desktop. “Could be fucking her. Could be killing her,” I throw out flippantly, turning back to the computer and staring unseeingly at the numbers on the spreadsheet.

I almost say I don’t care which …but I do. I might hate her, might blame her for every single moment of pain the three of us have endured over the four years, two months, and sixteen days since she obliterated our hearts, but I’m not ready for her to die.

At least not yet. Not until I watch her fall apart, until I watch the expression on her face when I take her father’s life, not until I watch as her mind splinters and she becomes everything she’s always hated.

I really should be focusing on business, on ways to overthrow the Sidorov Bratva, on expanding my own little empire.

Instead, the numbers blur and all I see is Everest’s face and the tears that glistened in her eyes when I’d wrapped my fingers around her throat to cut off whatever lie she planned to spew.

All I can focus on is the fact her lips are as soft and sweet as I remembered, and how badly I want more.

I glance up as Maddox stomps from the room, then lift my phone to see if the little dot from Everest’s tracker has moved.

It’s only when the alert for movement in the garage dings that I stop staring. I pull up the camera in time to see Madd roll his Hayabusa out, then curse when I hear the distinct rumbling purr of the engine starting.

That psycho is heading to the building, to Brix’s penthouse.

“Fuck!” I roar, lunging to my feet and racing through the house.

The keys to my McLaren sit on the counter and I snatch them as I race through the kitchen. Fuck. What the fuck is Madd thinking?

Were it anyone else, I might not worry too much but that asshole has been on a tear since the day Everest failed to meet up with us, since she stopped answering our calls.

When she disappeared.

Since then, he’s had nothing short of a death wish while sending as many assholes to hell as possible. Usually with his bare fucking hands.

Too many times, I’ve had to warn him of his carelessness.

He has a habit of leaving messes behind, the kind of messes that could end up sending the authorities straight to our door.

Yeah, I’ve got half the force and a majority of the judges in my pocket, but all it takes is one do-gooder Fed and we’re all fucked.

My McLaren might hug the curves and eat pavement with ease, but Madd’s fucking bike can split lanes and avoid the traffic I’m now fighting.

I’m not sure whether I’m worried he’ll start a brawl with Brixton’s giant ass or simply stalk into the apartment guns blazing.

Problem is we all have access to the penthouse, so it’s not like Brix can simply choose not to let his brother up.

“Fuck!” I roar into the dark interior of my vehicle. “Call Brix!” I yell at the Bluetooth system, my nostrils flaring as I suck in deep breaths.

A few rings, then it goes to voicemail.

Oh, this motherfucker.

Again, I yell out the same order to call Brix.

And once again, it goes to voicemail.

It isn’t until the third attempt Brix’s deep voice rumbles over the line. “What?” he answers.

Sometimes, I swear these two forget who the fuck they work for. “Madd’s on his way to you,” I say without preamble. “And so help me God, Everest better not be fucking dead.”

“Why the fuck would she be dead?” He genuinely sounds confused by my statement.

“Giving you a heads up. And later we’re going to have a talk about who the fuck you work for and a little refresher on the fucking rules.” I end the call before he can respond.

I hate to say it, but if it ever came down to hand to hand combat, pretty sure Brixton would beat my ass. But as the Don of the Antoniou family – and the fucking region – there are only two fucking choices: fall in line or take me out.

Shoving the gas pedal to the floor when the traffic finally opens up, I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles ache and my palms are sweating.

I really don’t even know which part I’m more fucked up over, what I fear worse – Brix and Madd throwing blows or finding Everest dead at the hands of one of only two people on this planet whom I trust.

No matter how many times I threaten it, I’m not sure whether I could actually end the life of either of my brothers. Not that I’d ever admit that aloud.

It takes another ten minutes before I pull my car into the secured garage and park it directly in front of the elevators where Madd’s crazy ass dumped his bike.

It literally looks like he lunged off, letting it drop to the concrete as though the fucking thing hadn’t cost over thirty grand with all the shit he had upgraded.

As I climb from my driver’s seat, I shake my head when I realize the bike is still purring.

Fucker didn’t even bother killing the engine before heading upstairs.

I’m sure if he could have, he would have simply ridden the bike up every flight of the stairwell.

But he would need the special keycard to gain access to the private top floor through the stairwell instead of the elevator.

Trying to will my heart to a normal rhythm, I restrain myself from punching the fucking button with my fist when the elevator takes entirely too long to drop to the garage floor, the doors opening with a barely audible whisper.

The music playing softly through the speakers grates on my nerves, but I keep my focus on the numbers climbing on the digital screen after I wave my keycard and hit PH.

I can hear the raised voices the moment the car hits the right floor. When the doors slide open, my feet are already moving.

“Stop!” Everest is screaming. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Curses, grunts, crashes, bangs. Those are the sounds that meet my ears before I even step fully into the apartment.

“You motherfucker,” Maddox growls out.

He’s mid-swing as I turn the corner, but Brix blocks it and shoves him back. They’re both bleeding from their noses, their mouths, and Madd has a cut over his eyebrow.

The sparsely furnished place looks like a tornado hit it with shit knocked over or destroyed, glass glittering on the floor.

Everest has a sheet wrapped around her body, her fists holding it together in the front. She can’t move any closer or she’ll risk getting hit by a wild swing or getting her feet sliced open by shards and pieces of glass covering a majority of the floor.

What the hell did they break in here?

“Enough!” I bellow as I storm forward, physically wedging my body between them and shoving them apart.

That isn’t enough for Madd.

The fucking psycho has the balls to grab the gun from the back of my waistband and point it directly at Brix’s forehead.

“Pull the trigger, asshole. Go ahead,” Brix says in a deceivingly low, calm voice, holding his arms out to his sides not in surrender, but as a dare.

“So help me, if you don’t lower that fucking gun I’ll bury you both in the woods,” I threaten, my hand wrapping around the muzzle and forcing Madd to lower it.

I wrench it from his grip, though he doesn’t put up much of a fight.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Everest asks.

I glance at her over my shoulder. Her eyes are wide, there’s a clear bandage covering the tattoo Brix designed for her, but she doesn’t appear hurt. In fact, her lips are kiss swollen, there’s evidence of whisker burn around her mouth, and her hair is disheveled like she just got thoroughly fucked.

What’s confusing is her swollen eyes, the way the whites are slightly bloodshot, as though she’d been crying.

Brix lifts a hand and wipes the back across his mouth, smearing the blood across his chin and cheek.

Madd doesn’t bother wiping away the blood, simply continues glaring at the giant with nothing short of murder in his eyes.

“Look at her. Does she look like he hurt her?” I say, throwing my arm in Everest’s direction without actually looking at her.

Because honestly, I’m torn between throttling her for causing this rift between my brothers and ripping that sheet away so I can bury my cock in every single one of her holes.