And now that there’s a debt to pay, someone is gonna have to fork over the cash. These people won’t rest until they get their money, that’s for shit sure.
Conor is a selfish, self-centered prick!
I should find him and put a bullet in his head myself.
Christ, I’d do it very happily, too.
Looks like Vigo and I need to have a little conversation, the kind where he assures me Conor’s dealings won’t blow back on my family and that I don’t put a bullet between his eyes.
And there’s no way I’m gonna get dragged into his lair like fucking cattle going to slaughter. I’m walking in there on my own two feet.
I don’t waste a single second. I drive my elbow into the throat of the guy in front of me and my knee into his groin, sending him crashing to the floor. Then, I swivel around, and with a palm heel strike to the nose of Patrick’s assailant, send him flying backward against a wall.
I pull out my gun and fire off two shots to the head of each one of them.
Thank fuck for silencers.
Patrick smirks at me. “You can never just go out, can you?”
I avoid his question and ask one of my own. “Why is it that whenever your family is involved, I end up with blood on my hands?” I grunt. “Come on. Let’s find Vigo and figure out what the hell is going on.”
“Are you nuts?” he asks. “If these guys recognized me, there will be more on the lookout. Are we just supposed to kill everyone who gets in our way?”
I level him with a stare. “That is my MO. You got an issue with that?”
He shakes his head. “Jesus Christ…”
“What’s the matter? You too pretty to get dirty?” I lift an eyebrow. Patrick isn’t known for being the most prepared gangster on the planet. Maybe that’s why he decided to go the GQ path. He can fire a gun, but isn’t great with hitting his targets. I mean, for fuck’s sake, he and Heaven once got jumped right next to his car in a park one morning after a run. Broad fucking daylight and he completely missed the ambush.
And this is exactly why I prefer to work alone.
But he’s here so he’s in this, too.
Besides, it’s his fucknut brother who put us on Vigo’s radar in the first place.
Patrick clenches his jaw. “Fine. Let’s go.”
I creep down the darkened hallway, hoping like hell we’ll find who we’re looking for before I have to set fire to the place with my gun.
“What in the fuck has Conor gotten us into this time? And why the hell are we going to find Vigo, by the way? If Conor really did screw him over, he’s not gonna be very welcoming,” Patrick mutters as he follows close behind me. “Besides, Conor isn’t supposed to find out that I know anything about him being involved with Vigo. He’ll fucking roast me if Vigo tells him we showed up here.”
“Relax,” I grunt. “I’ve got a plan.” Which, if translated, actually means I have no plan at all.
I didn’t come here tonight expecting to find out that Conor stiffed Vigo. I just figured Conor was running some scam with him, a scam I’d have to expose for all of our safety.
But if Vigo has it out for Conor, then he definitely has it out for the rest of the Mulligans, and that includes Heaven and my family, by association.
It’s only a matter of time before he launches an attack against us all, and while I want to see Conor go down in flames, it’s my job to worry about everyone else.
Although, I’m hoping we can avoid the hellfire. If this is just about money, let the Mulligans pay him back.
If it’s just about money, that is.
My reconnaissance activities usually involve some sort of torture techniques. Cutting throats, tongues, cocks, fingers — I do whatever I need to get whatever I need.
And I’ll make sure Conor never knows we were here. That’ll keep Patrick from getting his ass chewed out…or worse.
We creep farther down the hall and a door suddenly swings open to reveal a young, topless girl, shaking uncontrollably. A thin stream of blood trickles out of the corner of her mouth, her blue eyes wide with fear.
Some guy inside of the room growls at her in Russian, but she makes no move other than to shake her head. She is yanked backward into the room, a thick hand slapped over her mouth before she can let out a scream.
“Fuck,” I mutter. What in the fuck else do they have going on in this place? That girl has to be fifteen, for Christ’s sake! “I’m going in.”
“Dante, don’t forget why we’re here. This isn’t about starting a war with the Volkov Bratva!” Patrick hisses, pulling me backward.
I shake off his hand, glaring at him over my shoulder. “I didn’t start this fucking war, Patty, but now that I’m here, I’m gonna make sure these assholes don’t take one single prisoner on my watch.”
Patrick rolls his eyes, throwing his hands into the air. “Fine! Go!”
I kick in the door to find the beefy Russian straddling the girl. She struggles against his massive body, his hand still cemented to her mouth.
“Hey, asshole,” I bark, coming up behind him, my gun pointed at the back of his head. “Get off the girl now or I blow a hole through your fucking skull.”
The man turns slowly with a sick grin on his face. “Pull the trigger, bitch.” His words are heavily accented and he doesn’t make a move to get off of her.
“Dante,” Patrick mumbles. “ I hear footsteps. Plug his ass and let’s move!”
I keep the gun pointed at the fat Russian. “Get the fuck away from her and I’ll let you live.”
“Fuck you, pussy. You won’t shoot me. If you wanted me dead, I’d already be—”
Pop!
“Yep, you’re right,” I say as he tumbles off of her, landing on the floor like a bag of cement. “Dead.”
I hold out a hand to the girl, pulling her up. I slip off my jacket and toss it at her. “Do you speak English?” I say.
She nods, her skin ghostly white. “Yes,” she whispers.
“Get out of here now. There’s a staircase at the end of the hall. Take it upstairs to the restaurant and disappear. Don’t look back.” I grip her shoulders. “Forget you were ever here and that you saw any of this.”
She nods again, her teeth chattering as she puts on the jacket and runs out the door. I don’t have time to make sure she gets to the stairs. I guess I’ll find out when we get there ourselves.
After we handle Vigo.
“Okay, Good Samaritan, now what? Who do we take care of first?” Patrick grimaces as several pairs of footsteps thump along the floor. Shit. None of this has gone the way I planned. We’ve wandered into some kind of elaborate labyrinth that is separated from the casino, and right now, our escape route is blocked. I shove Patrick aside and crouch low, pointing my gun in the direction of the approaching sounds. As soon as they appear, I fire off some shots. Bodies land in a heap in the middle of the floor and I jump over them, running down the hall with Patrick huffing behind me. “You need to get in some more cardio, man, and I don’t mean the kind that involves hooking up with random women,” I grumble as I stop next to another closed door, grasping the knob and pushing open the door. I hope this is it. Vigo has plenty of security hawking the casino floor, and if any of those guys wander back here, we’ll be outnumbered.
I twist the doorknob, shocked to find out it opens without me being forced to kick it in, but thankful because I’m really trying to limit the noise. I walk inside the darkened room blinking fast as I process the bloody scene splashed in front of my eyes. Vigo Kosolov is on the floor, face up, with a knife sticking out of his throat. “Looks like someone beat me to the punch,” I mutter as Patrick inches into the room behind me.
“Beat you?” he says, quirking an eyebrow. “You mean us, right?”