Page 23 of Dark Things (Payback Duet #1)

Colter

“ F uck, this guy is heavy,” Brooks says, tossing the unconscious man into the bed of the truck. He checks the zip ties on his wrists and ankles before slamming the tailgate closed.

“I hate this shit,” Staff says, pulling open the passenger side door and sliding in.

I let out a breath and run my hands through my hair. “Yeah we all do,” I say, not noticing that Brooks has already rounded the truck and gotten into the driver's seat.

I pull open the backdoor and clip my seat belt on before pulling the door closed and leaning my head back on the seat.

Mario is starting to really become a pain in the ass, and if we didn’t need him and his resources we’d never have gotten into this mess in the first place, but he’s the only one who could find out what happened to Belle, and we need him .

Getting involved with the mafia wasn’t the plan, but after we lost her there was nowhere else to turn.

Our parents forbid us from seeing her more concerned with their reputations and legacies than what Belle meant to us.

They made us stay away, and when we were old enough to look for her ourselves, she was gone.

“The warehouse?” Brooks asks, moving the truck onto the road and heading toward the run down neighborhood a couple of towns over.

“Yeah, Gino is going to meet us there. That fucking psycho better not get in the way. I don’t need to be cleaning brains from my shoes again. I had to throw out my sneakers because that shit wouldn’t come out,” I say.

Staff chuckles in the front seat. “Only a poor little rich boy would complain about his sneakers instead of the dead body with its skull crushed in.”

“Shut it, asshole. You were whining about your shirt last week when you got blood on the cuffs. You’re the only guy I know who comes to a beating with a full suit on.”

Brooks laughs from the driver's seat, “He’s got you there, Staffy. You’re a bigger clothes snob than Colter and you know it.”

Staff punches him in the arm which makes Brooks laugh harder.

I watch my best friends, my brothers in every way except DNA and my breath catches in my chest. I never wanted this for us.

We were supposed to have a normal college experience away from our parents, live with Belle, maybe get married after graduation.

We were never supposed to lose her or be doing this shady shit to find her.

We pull into the warehouse lot and drive around to the back of the building. Gino is there, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, arms crossed around his chest, one leg propped up against the wall. Not a care in the world.

“Took you fucks long enough. I’ve been here for two hours,” he says, watching as Brooks walks around to the trunk.

I put my hands in the pockets of my jeans because if I don’t I’ll punch him in the fucking face. I hate this prick.

“He ran. Brooks had to tackle him, and let’s just say he isn’t in one piece like you requested. He’s a little rough around the edges,” I say, pulling out a joint and lighting it. I’m going to need to be buzzed to get through the rest of the night.

Gino shakes his head in disappointment before opening up the door. We let Brooks go in with the guy draped over his shoulder before Staff and I follow.

The warehouse is just a big room with old equipment in it. A single light bulb shines at the center. I think they used to make steel here or some shit. I never asked, but it’s creepy as fuck at night. You can feel the desperation.

Brooks sets the guy in a chair that’s bolted to the ground, cutting the zip ties and then replacing them so his hands and legs are attached to the armrests and the chair legs.

Gino dumps a bucket of cold water over his head and the guy wakes up screaming.

Good luck, buddy. No one can hear you out here.

“Michael, good of you to join us. You must know the reason why you’re here,” Gino says, placing the bucket next to his feet.

“Please, whatever it is you want, I’ll get it for you. I swear,” Michael says.

“It’s too late for that. You know what you did, and let’s just say Mr. Russo isn’t happy. He’s asked us to have a chat and find out what you’ve really been up to.”

Michael swallows before looking at us. Staff and Brooks are on either side of me, and we must look like demons come to collect his soul because a tear slips down his cheek.

I want to feel bad for this fucker, but he decided to start his own trafficking ring, stealing girls from the area and let’s just say Mario is fucking pissed.

I guess the only thing you can say that’s good about Mario is that he doesn’t deal in flesh and doesn’t want it in the state of New York. His interests lean more towards guns and drugs. The occasional gambling ring, maybe, but never women.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want. Please just don’t kill me. I have a wife and daughters.”

I laugh at that, putting the joint out on the heel of my boot before slipping the roach in my pocket. Is this guy for real right now? “You’re telling us you sell underage girls, and you have fucking daughters? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand. The man who I got hooked up with didn’t give me a choice. It was either my family or some runaways. I chose to keep my family safe.”

Gino lands a punch to his face. His head snaps back and he groans in pain. It was unnecessary since he’s talking, but no one has ever accused Gino of being smart.

“Who’s the contact?” he roars before letting another fist fly. Michael’s face starts to swell, and I shake my head, taking a step forward. I can’t stop Gino, but we need to know how deep this shit goes.

“If I tell you, will you let me go? Please, I’ll leave. Take my family and get out of New York. I’ll never come back. Please.”

Tears fall in earnest, and I feel a little bad about what we’re going to have to do, but Michael chose his path. He wasn’t crying when those girls got sold to who knows where.

“Start talking,” Staff spits out.

There's nothing we hate more than people who take advantage of women. After what happened to Belle, we’ve never let a rapist or piece of shit like this walk free.

“I owed some money. I have a thing for the ponies. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. My shipping company is one of the largest on the Hudson and I needed a way to pay it back before I lost everything. That’s when he came to me with the offer.”

“Who?” I ask, stepping further into the light. Brooks walks around Michael’s chair and pulls his hair making him look directly into my face.

“Stanislao Ferrante. He’s back in New York, and I’m sure you all know what name he goes by now.”

I’m confused, but Gino’s spine snaps straight, and he lets out a menacing growl. His eyes flame with anger, and there’s no denying the ripple of tension running through his body.

“ Cazzo! Ferrante? Are you fucking sure? You better be a hundred percent because if I find out you’re fucking lying, I will go to your house and slit your wife’s throat and make your daughters watch,” Gino says, landing another punch to his face.

“Jesus, let the asshole talk. He’s no good if he passes out again,” I say.

Gino’s face is a mask of rage when it swings in my direction, but he no longer scares me.

He’s an asshole, but the three of us could end him without a thought.

All it would take is the Glock that’s warming my back, and a grave in the woods to get rid of him permanently.

But then we’d have to deal with Mario, and it’s not worth it if we want to find Belle.

“I’m sure. I swear. He asked for a meeting under his new name, but when I saw him I knew who he was. I met him once before it all went down between him and Mario. You don’t survive in this life without knowing the players,” Michael says, blood pouring out of his nose and the cuts from Gino’s rings.

I’ve heard of Ferrante, but I’ve never met him.

He supposedly disappeared right around the time we lost Belle.

I was only sixteen then and didn’t understand that my parent's business associates were less than stellar.

I always just thought of them as the rich assholes who used to come to parties. I know better now.

“What name does he go by now?” Brooks asks, shaking Michael’s head by his hair.

“Stan. Stan Graves,” he cries out. His whole body is trembling, and I’m afraid we’re going to lose him to a heart attack with the way he’s breathing.

My shock must come across my face because when I look at Staff and Brooks I see the same in them.

There’s another Graves in town, and he hasn’t been here long, but it can’t be a coincidence.

I don’t believe in them any more. Everything that happens has a reason, and Stan Graves may have just walked into town to fuck this whole thing up.

And if Haunt is connected to a new player in town, could he know who Ghost and Pitch are?

Is it one and the same? I don’t like having so many questions unanswered.

Gino calls us to the corner and leaves Michael in chair. “You boys can leave. This isn’t something you need to deal with. I’ll call Mario and take care of this.”

“Who is Ferrante?” Staff asks, ignoring the order. “ If he’s a major player we need to know so we can look out for shit. I don’t want to be blind when we take the brunt of the business these days.”

“This has nothing to do with you, kid. Let’s just say Ferrante made a mistake five years ago, and it caused Mario to lose a lot of money and brought heat from the feds.

Mario had to disappear, and it was all Ferrante’s fault.

That fucker has been a slippery bastard, changing his name and moving out of New York, but now that we know he’s close we can finally take care of it. ”

I don’t like any of this, but Gino isn’t going to give us more, we’re just going to have to find out the rest by ourselves. I can see Staff wants to argue, but I just grip his shoulder and squeeze.

“You’re right, this has nothing to do with us. Let us know when the next job is. We’ll get out of your hair,” I say, pulling Staff with me toward the door with Brooks following.

Once we’re outside, Staff shakes me off and makes his way to the car.

He can be pissed all he wants, but I won’t take chances with their safety and the less we know about old beefs that have nothing to do with us the better.

Unless this has to do with Belle or how to get her back, I want us as removed as we can get from all the bullshit.

Except there’s a small problem.

I look to the sky for a moment before turning toward the car, Brooks following me. He slips past, but I linger, trying to gather my thoughts. I don’t know how I’m going to keep them safe if we’re about to be thrown into a war against two mafia rivals.

The woods around the warehouse are thick, and you can’t really see in the darkness, but when Brooks turns the car on, the headlights shine onto a crop of trees, and I see a lone figure standing there.

He doesn’t move, just stares at me, seeing what I’ll do before he pulls down his balaclava and turns, disappearing into the night like a ghost. No sound reaches me except the hum of the car motor and the crickets.

I get in the car before Brooks turns around. “Was that who I think it was?” he asks.

Closing my eyes, I sigh. “Yeah. That was Haunt Graves.”