“I wouldn’t put words into her mouth, though it seems that way.“eff’s sputtering comes as no surprise.
“That doesn’t sound like him. He was crazy about her.”
My hand clenches the receiver, tight. Crazy. What a fitting choice of words. “Who’s to say what happened once he met new friends while they were traveling? Tatiana seemed satisfied to let things go. I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you, and I’m afraid questioning her on this would only reopen old wounds. From the way she made it sound, though, he was enjoying himself out.”
“He was supposed to fly home, damn it.”
“Do you have confirmation he returned?” Roger looks over his shoulder at me curiously. I have no doubt he covered up all traces of that prick, but it’s the sort of question I’d ask if I was nothing but an innocent third party.
“No,” he mutters. “I swear, if he gets caught up with a group of Eurotrash kids, I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”
I force a chuckle while envisioning the miserable, bleeding wreck left behind after paying him a visit. “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised. Observing that flashy lifestyle is tempting. You have my word. If I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Thanks, Gianni. And please wish my best to Tatiana.”
Right. I’ll be sure to extend it.
By the time I hang up, there’s no question of what must be done. Roger’s hard, stony expression tells me we’re on the same page.
It’s time to pay another visit to Christopher and find out how eager he is to continue living.
“How is he today?” I eye the closed office door tucked into the corner of one of our warehouses. There’s no evidence of his presence elsewhere–the stacked crates and pallets of merchandise waiting to be moved are the same as ever.
The pair of guards seated in front of the locked door exchange glances before shrugging. “Pissed off,” one of them grunts. Always asking for shit.”
44
“Like a smoke or a walk outside,” the other explains. “Not so much the past day or two, though. I think he figured out it’s not doing him any good.”
Roger releases a bitter bark of laughter. “This fucking kid has some balls, thinking he can ask for anything. This is a five–star hotel with room service.”
He’s a survivor, or thinks he is. He believes he can talk himself out of any situation, probably because he’s had to do it countless times to infiltrate a world that doesn’t belong to him. How did I not see through him before this? Because you never paid enough attention to your daughter’s life. If anything, this twisted situation has taught me the difference between hovering protectively over her and playing an active role in her protection.
I’ll be damned if I thank the prick behind the door for showing me the light.
The guards move aside, allowing us to enter the room. It’s narrow dimly lit, and rank with the stench of body odor and excrement. The bucket in the corner reveals the source of the latter stench, while the pathetic lump tied to a wooden chair is the source of the former.
The button–down shirt he’s wearing is now dried with bloodstains and sticks to his skin in sweaty patches. His dark hair hangs in greasy strands in front of his face, concealing most of it. Roger growls like an animal as we approach, but Christopher refuses to lift his head.
“Don’t play it up,” I murmur, stepping in front of him. “You won’t get far using the victim act. Not with me.
Slowly he stirs, his breathing ragged. “Mr. Rossetti, please…” His voice is thick, and his speech is slightly slurred due to the missing teeth he has now. The gash I left on his lower lip hasn’t healed well, either. Looks like it might have become infected, and the sight pleases me more than it should.
173
DUNUS
“I didn’t give you permission to speak.” What do I do with this pathetic wreck? I can’t trust him to keep his mouth shut any more than I could trust him to keep his dick in his pants and away from women.
“I, for one, would like to know what he has to say.” Roger removes his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of another chair, then begins rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
“I still don’t understand why I’m here. Why are you doing this to me?” Christopher’s dark, bloodshot eyes dart back and forth between us. “Please, someone explain to me what happened because I only know you think I did something to earn this.”
Finally, his gaze lands on me and stays there: “You can’t keep me here forever. My father will come looking for me, especially when you have me here for no reason.”
“Don’t fuck with me.” His head snaps back in the wake of my snar “You know what you did. Every fucking time you chose to hurt my daughter, you earned another few hours in hell. Pissing and shitting in a bucket, bleeding and bruised. You put yourself in this very fucking place, so don’t sit here and play the victim.”
“What? What did I do to her?” Fresh sweat beads on his
sashen skin
“Listen to this,” Roger sighs. His irritation is getting the best of him. “I figured he’d be smarter.”
“I didn’t,” I grumble. I hope this isn’t his defense. Feigning ignorance? He’s had a week to figure this out. Couldn’t he come up with anything better?
“Honestly, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s the tears swimming in his eyes that turn my bitterness to rage. He has the nerve to cry after what he’s done. To make himself a victim. “Ilove Tatiana. I-”
A backhand from me silences him, at least for a moment. He’s not intelligent enough to keep his mouth shut permanently.” Don’t you dare say that again,” I warn. “Not ever. I know what you did. She told me everything.”
”
“What are you talking about?” he manages to get the words out once he lifts his head. His cheek glows red now, in contrast to his sickly complexion. “What did she tell you? I didn’t do anything to her.”
“She showed us the bruises.” Roger’s fists are clenched at his sides, his chest heaving. Each breath becomes heavier than the last. We’ve done this together numerous times, but there’s something different about Christopher. A personal edge to it. “She showed us what you did and told us about the rest. About the way you forced her… how you fucking raped her. At this point, you should be thankful you’re even alive!”
“What?” He suddenly sounds a lot sharper, clearer. “I didn’t. I would never do that.”
“If you didn’t do those things, then what you’re saying is she lied to us, right?” I demand, grabbing a handful of greasy hair and pulling his head back until we’re eye–to–eye. “That’s what you’re telling me? That she’s lying. That her having a mental breakdown in my arms had nothing to do with you? Her constant nightmares? That the reason she’s been a shell of her former self had nothing to do with you? Men like you are pathetic, and if you haven’t used your pea–sized brain yet and put the puzzle together, that’s why you’re here, you miserable piece of shit. Now stop wasting the last few minutes of your life lying.”
“The last…” Tears spill over his lashes and pour down his cheeks. No. No, you can’t. Please, I don’t deserve this! You can’t kill me, please! I’ll do anything!”
“I’m sure you would promise me anything if it meant keeping your pathetic life,” I observe. The Glock in my waistband practically burns my skin; I’m so eager to wrap my hand around the butt and pull it free. This could all be over so quickly. I’d
never have to hear his lies again.
“My father…” His breathing is quick, erratic. “He’s going to find out, and it’ll mean trouble for you. You’re screwing yo doing this.”
“Is that supposed to frighten me?” I ask on a sigh.
‘f by
“I… I don’t know what she told you.” Wracking sobs consume his entire frame as he shakes from head to toe. “It’s possible that there was a misunderstanding, and if so, I’ll take responsibility for my part. I know I was drinking too much while we were on the trip. I tried some drugs. Honestly I didn’t know what I was doing!”
Leaning down, I scream in his face the words ringing in my head. She said it started here! She thought the trip would make
2/3
things better!”
Shoving his head away, I wipe my hand on my slacks. “You let her buy you gifts on my dime. She thought she might be able to keep you happy that way. And you let it happen, then hurt her anyway. You are less than shit. It would make more sense to kill you and donate your organs. Your life might mean something, the”
“Please!” He’s gone straight to blubbering, his nose running, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth thanks to the love tap I gave him. “I didn’t mean anything!”
Now that he’s sweating, his stench is worse than ever. There’s a particular sort of acrid odor to sweat born from terror, and it fills the small room until I have to back away. “You meant plenty,” I counter. “You took advantage of her in every way possible. Nobody gets away with that.”
“She… she wasn’t totally innocent!” he blurts out. “She picked fights and threw tantrums and pushed me until I couldn’t take it anymore!!”
“And that means you can hit her? Hurt her? Leave your filthy fucking hand prints on her?” Roger seethes.
“No… I just… As I said. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry… please. Just let me go, and you’ll never hear from me again. I’ll disappear.”
“Oh, you’ll disappear alright!” I growl, shaking my head. I don’t know what to do. I want to kill him, but I made a promise to Tatiana
“Look, my father is going to come looking for me soon, and when he does…”
“What?” Roger interrupts him, getting right in his face. “What is your daddy going to do to get you out of this? I can only assume he’ll be happy to hear what you’ve done. How you raped and abused a woman, causing her despair, making it impossible for her to sleep at night. Maybe we should give your father a call right now and see what he has to say?”
Christopher grits his teeth. It’s obvious Roger’s words have hit their mark. “Did you not hear me? I already told you she was part of the problem. She’s lucky all I did was bruise her a little bit after everything she put me through. Her pussy wasn’t even that good anyway.”
“I’ll fucking kill you with my bare hands,” I snarl, walking towards him. The air is electrified; I can feel the energy inside Roger, and I know he’s going to snap. All at once, he pulls something from his back pocket. The overhead light makes the steel of his switchblade gleam. Before I can stop him, Roger’s hand moves in a slash motion and the blade is in Christopher’s skin.
Roger jumps back in time to avoid being sprayed by the blood from the gaping wound in Christopher’s throat. At first, I’m too shocked by this sudden turn to react. I can only watch, wordlessly, while Christopher gasps and gags as the life drains from his pathetic body.
I pull my attention from the dying man to eye my trusted right–hand man, the stained switchblade still gripped tight in his fist. He’s a man possessed, his eyes seeming to glow as they drink in the sight of an agonizing death.
“By rights, that was my job,” I mutter once Christopher’s head drops forward, his body limp.
“I’d say sorry, but I couldn’t stand another second of him blaming her for a choice that he fucking made.” He looks my way, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Sue me if you want.”
I can’t bother to be mad. It’s what was going to happen either way. “We need to clean this up.”
“Leave it to me.” His gaze swings back to the dead man in the chair. “It’s what I do best.”
Before I turn away, I catch sight of him spitting on the corpse.
