Page 21 of Depraved

Fuck. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man. I grin down to her enraged face. “I told you this is in your best interest. Make peace with it, Billy.”

“If you think you’re going to lock me up, you’re high. Fuck that. You said, ‘ask me for help,’ and I said ‘no.’ How hard is that to understand?” she snaps viciously.

“Stop assuming I care about what you want. I don’t. I’m the great big bad, remember? You’ll do as you’re fucking told.”

Sarah laughs loudly, narrowing her eyes at me. “I don’t follow any man’s lead. Including yours, Dante Sovrano.”

I’m amused at her choice of words. “I remember the first time you said that to me. And do you remember what happened?” Her eyes falter, then double down with anger. “That’s right, beautiful. I wasn’t asking then, and I’m not asking now. Go home.”

I turn my head, effectively dismissing her, but when she doesn’t move, Vincenzo comes and grips her arm to pull her out, causing me to watch. Something about seeing his hand on her arm makes the words jump from my lips.

“Attento. Se lasci un segno, ti rompo il collo.”Careful. If you leave a mark, I’ll break your neck.

He must loosen his grip because Sarah looks at him and then back to me, confusion all over her face as he escorts her out.

“You’re finished,” the old doc says, giving me a sly grin while he stitches my arm.

I give a half laugh, knowing he isn’t talking about my arm. I look back to the hall where they’ve disappeared, a frown taking over my face. “Yeah. She’s growing on me.”

A grunt comes from the ground, and I look to see our rat friend waking up.

“Finish up, Doc, and leave me some of that wire, will ya?”

Antonio walks to the counter and snags a small carving knife, looking it over before turning to me.

The doc places a bandage over my arm, then digs inside his bag, gathering the things I requested before he faces Antonio.

“My car?”

“Waiting outside for you,” Antonio answers, slapping a wad of cash on the counter.

The doctor swipes the money as he walks out and doesn’t look back.

Muffled cries rise from behind the duct tape on our shackled friend as he takes in his surroundings. Squatting down, I look him in the eyes. “Hey, Frank.”

I grip the tape at the side of his mouth and rip it off, slapping my hand over his mouth roughly as he screams. “Shhh…”

Antonio walks over and hands me the carving knife. I flip it back and forth between my fingers before I look at Frank again. “I’ve had a helluva day, so I need you to try and be still when I cut out your tongue.”

He starts to kick his legs, flailing his body as he screams into my palm, but I stare into his eyes as Antonio holds down his ankles.

“Go ahead. That’s it. Get it all out…” I whisper, leaning in closer. “Your squeals sound a lot like the way fucking rats sound before they die.”

His head begins to shake as tears fall from his eyes, but I press my hand harder into his face, crushing the back of his head into the cabinet.

He’s sobbing with deep guttural regret. I don’t blame him. He knows he’s going to die.

“Frank. Shh, shhh…stop. It’s okay, because after I do it, I’m gonna stitch you up real nice, so everyone knows they have to keep their mouths shut or I’ll do it for them.”

I roll the sleeve on the new dress shirt Antonio brought for me, as I sit in the back of my black SUV, noticing a speck of blood crusted over the bone on my wrist. I wipe it on my pants a few times to get rid of it and sit back, letting out an exhausted breath.

The windows in the car are heavily tinted, keeping the sun out, something I’m grateful for, seeing as I’ve been up for twenty-four hours now.

What a fucking night…or day actually.

I pull my phone from my pocket when I feel it vibrate.

“Speak.”