Page 89 of Mafia Scars

Henry winced and sounded like he was crying. Any other day, I would have given him a beating for that and told him to man up, but just the nameVictorwas enough of an explanation.

“He was hired to. I owed a guy a debt I couldn’t pay.”

“Fuck you, Henry, why didn’t you come to me?”

“Doesn’t matter, just come. I’m there. Why didn’t you answer my texts? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

Fuck, because I was too busy fucking. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I couldn’t. Luc, just get your ass here and help me. I can’t lose my family. My wife and my babies.”

“I’m on my way,” I assured him.

That was the only possible assurance I could give because I knew that if Victor had them, they were probably already dead.

Tears pulled at the corner of my eyes at the thought.

I grabbed a T-shirt and a revolver and dashed, jumping on my motorcycle, the fastest vehicle I had.

Why didn’t I answer Henry’s text?

I always opened his messages. I always did. The one time I didn’t, and it was a real emergency.

And the worst kind.

Victor kidnapping his family. Victor Pertrinkov was an evil son of a bitch.

We’d been after him for years and knew to kill him on sight. The damned man was a hit man, but more than that was his sick tastes and unsavory habits.

He was a cannibal. An actual cannibal.

Literally, like Hannibal Lector cannibal, and he would find every way possible to eat some part of his victims or mutilate them in some manner if he was told to kill them.

If this was a debt Henry couldn’t pay, then chances were I was dealing with a hit that ordered Victor to kill them.

I got to the mental hospital. This place gave me the fucking creeps. Wigged me out and made my skin crawl.

That it was nighttime, or in the early hours of the morning, made it worse.

The hospital had been closed for over twenty years. It took the worst kind of patients, and I heard it closed because they’d practiced all manner of inhumane techniques on people. Lobotomies, torture, electrocution therapy, and fuck, just turning people into mindless zombies with all manners of medication to fuck you up.

It was the sort of place you’d expect in a horror film.

Vines grew all over the premises, all over the warning and hazard signs that saidKeep Out.

I went through an opening in the gate and crept up to the nearest window.

Nothing inside.

Walking around to where the lake coursed around the property, I saw two parked cars. Black sedans, typical mobster cars.

I looked across the lake, where the building connected to another by bridge. There was a small light on in one of the windows. Not bright enough to illuminate the room. Made me think it was a candle from the flicker.

Damn it, I wished this wasn’t happening. Anybody else, and I could be more confident in the way I was going to handle this. But Victor, shit, the guy was as unpredictable as water.

I quickly called Claudius. He answered on the first ring.

“What’s up, bro?”