Page 75 of Thorns of Silence

But I knew the moment I fell asleep, the rats would come.

“Father,” I bellowed, my broken roar echoing through the basement. No, it wasn’t a basement. It was a dungeon. My own personal torture chamber.

“It’s okay.” Amon’s voice came from somewhere nearby, but I couldn’t see him in the pitch darkness. It was a reminder that he suffered with me in our father’s version of character-building. “I’m here. Just listen to my voice, brother.”

I barely moved my feet, each step heavier than the last. I made it to the iron bars that separated us when I spotted him. Amon was hanging by a cord, his wrists bound above his head.

“What did he do to you?” I heard my voice crack as I fell to my knees.

Amon’s eyes locked on my chest. “I’m fine. How badly did he beat you?”

“I’ll live,” I croaked and tried to manage a smile, but that triggered the searing pain in my mouth. “He won’t though. One day I’ll give him back everything he’s given us.”

The hate in my chest twisted and grew for as long as I could remember, but it was never as great as it was at that moment with two twelve-year-old brothers staring at each other across the damp dungeon in the bowels of the castle they called home.

All because we saved two girls from his wrath.

“Are we just going to stand here and stare at each other or what?” Cesar’s snarky tone yanked me back into the present. I blinked, clearing the images that taunted. The memories were coming back with a vengeance. Clearer. More painful. “Hello? Earth to Dante,” he called out.

His arms hung at his side as if he wasn’t in the mood for this fight. Well, too fucking bad. The excess energy simmered through me, craving a release. It was either this or a killing spree.

I charged at him, but Cesar blocked it with both of his forearms and then landed a punch on my ribs. It wasn’t nearly as hard as I needed it to be though. It was my turn, punching him in his kidneys.

He gasped but it didn’t slow him down as he sent several punches my way. Eventually we found a solid rhythm. Cesar was a decent sparring partner, which was the reason I enjoyed it as much as I did.

I soon found my excess energy dissipating.

Eventually, we leaned against the ropes that surrounded the boxing ring, dripping sweat and gulping down water.

“Feel better now that you beat me up?”

I lowered the bottle and met Cesar’s eyes. “I’d hardly call that beating you up.”

He snorted. “Tell that to my ribs.”

My lips pulled into a grin, but before I could reply, my phone buzzed. I slid under the rope and off the platform to retrieve it.

Number: Unknown.

I gritted my teeth, preparing to find yet another cryptic message. The heads of the Omertà had been receiving them for years. I really wasn’t in the mood.

But still, I slid the message open and my jaw dropped.

Motherfuckingfuck.

Rage boiled as I watched the familiar golden curls. Father’s body slumped against the ground. The next image switched to the body being toted into what looked like the catacombs. The cropped images made it hard to see the whole picture, but shadows to her left and right hinted she wasn’t alone.

My breathing was ragged as everything started to fall into place. Had… Phoenix shot to kill? I replayed the scene of that night three years ago, the images of her reaching for my gun and shooting me. Was it her intention all along to kill me?

No, it couldn’t be. She would have brought her own weapon if that were the case. Right?

A red haze blurred my vision. I had to close my eyes and take several calming breaths to disperse the energy. My mind bubbled with all the different possibilities, and they all left a foul taste in my mouth.

Phoenix had made it plenty clear she hated my guts. The sinister voice in my head pointed out that I should have fucking believed her. But I instantly shut it down as a muscle worked in my jaw.

The phone cracked in my hand, protesting at my grip, and the video was long gone.

It was time to enforce the marriage contract. I had to find out what the fuck those girls were up to.