20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

ELIO

I jog up the steps to Orion’s apartment building and stop short when I see the door propped open. I narrow my eyes into a scowl and wrench the door the rest of the way open. The neighborhood he’s living in is bad enough on its own, never mind the shitty state of the building and his apartment. But the whole point of an entrance is to keep riff raff out, and if you’re stupid enough to leave it wide open to the world, you’re bound to get robbed. I stoop down and pick up the doorstop, stuffing it into my pocket before pulling the door closed behind me.

I glare at the peeling wallpaper on my way up to the second floor. Would Orion spank my ass if I suggested that he lose this place and move in with me? Maybe if I play up the financial angle, he’ll go for it. If he lives with me, he can stop going to those underground fights to cover his brother’s expenses. But, fuck, I want him to want to say yes. I want him to want to come home and soak in the bath with me after every fight and wake up next to me every morning. It sounds so goddamn domestic, and I want it so bad it’s a little embarrassing.

I reach the landing of the second floor and blow out a breath, stopping for a second to drag my fingers through my hair to tame it, even though I’m sure it’s already in place. The aching need in my gut to coax Orion back to my lair and keep him locked up there forever will have to wait. There are more important things to deal with tonight, unfortunately.

His door open before I even get the chance to knock, and I let a slow smile spread over my lips.

“Waiting by the door for me, Boss?” I tease, taking a second to eat him up with my eyes. His hair is a wild mane tonight, and instead of his usual workout attire, he’s wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans with a tattered hole in the left leg that gives the perfect peepshow to his muscular thigh, thick with dark blond hair.

He snorts, but doesn’t deny it, just steps aside to let me in. As soon as I cross the threshold, he wraps his arms around me and drags me close, letting the door swing closed behind me. He still smells like that shitty, cheap soap, and I’m tempted to just blurt out the idea of him moving in with me. I’ll buy him the most expensive soap on the market, whatever scent he likes. He nibbles down my throat and my cock swells to life immediately, a moan rising from my chest.

“Your text made it sound like this is more than just a social call,” he says, teasing his teeth along my skin.

“Unfortunately.” I sigh, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to keep him from going too far when he stops kissing me. “Dante came through for us. We’ve got most of what we need from Casimir’s emails.”

“And now it’s time to pay him a visit?” Orion guesses, and I nod.

He lets go of me, his face hardening a fraction as he drags his hand over his mouth.

“Do you have anything to drink?”

“Yeah.” He jerks his head for me to follow him.

Orion leads me to the small kitchenette attached to his living room. Without the distractions this time, I’m able to take a second to glance around the tiny apartment while he opens the cabinet above the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of whiskey. Honestly, the place isn’t a hell of a lot different from the mental picture I filled in from the quick look I got last time. It’s obvious he does his best to keep it up, everything neat and tidy. But there’s only so much you can shine a pile of shit.

Orion sets two shot glasses down on the counter in front of me and fills them both. Then he reaches for the one closest to himself and downs it in a quick gulp.

“So?” he prompts.

I pick up my glass and tip it back, letting the cheap whiskey burn on my tongue and all the way down my throat. It settles hot in my belly, but doesn’t do much to take the edge off of what I have to tell him.

“You remember those girls at the motel?”

His eyes light with understanding immediately, connecting all the dots in under a second. His expression goes from curious and annoyed to darkly furious in the blink of an eye.

“That’s what Casimir has been up to? Trafficking underaged girls?” He growls and pours us both a second shot.

“Looks like it. Selling them to pimps and pedos all over the city and fuck knows where else. Great way to make money if you’re a goddamn monster without a fucking soul,” I mutter, then I down the second shot, nudging the shot glass away when I set it down so I’m not tempted to have a third.

“What happens now?” Orion asks, his voice dipping lower than I thought was possible, raising goose bumps all down the back of my neck. “You get me to rough him up until he agrees to give you a cut of those profits? You put in a second bathroom in your penthouse with all the money you make off of the kids he’s buying and selling?”

I rear back like he’s slapped me. Worse than if he slapped me.

“Jesus Christ, is that seriously what you think?” Maybe I do need that third shot after all. I reach for the bottle and skip the niceties of the glass this time, taking a swig straight from it and gasping at the burn that doesn’t do near enough to cauterize the way Orion just cut me.

He dips his gaze and sets his jaw, quiet for a few seconds before he jerks his head back and forth. “Fuck, no, I don’t. I’m sorry.” He lets out a long breath. “I’m just… That’s so fucked up. Kids ? What kind of inhuman garbage is willing to do that?”

“The worst kind,” I answer darkly. “As for what happens now, Xaviaro is staking out his apartment. He texted me a few minutes ago to let me know Casimir is home, alone, and if that changes, he’s going to let me know that too. Dante was able to find emails back and forth with his supplier, some Russian prick. But what we don’t know is when the next shipment is due and whether Casimir was working alone in Wildcliff.”

“So, we’re going to go over there and beat some answers out of him?” The eager edge in Orion’s voice this time would be concerning if it weren’t so fucking hot.

“You’re off the hook, Boss. Unless you actually want in on this. Xav can handle it. Getting answers out of Casimir the hard way would be like foreplay for him and Sparrow. Lorenzo is already on his way there too. Something this big going on under his nose in his city? He wants to see it handled.”

The muscle in his jaw works, and he stares at our empty shot glasses for a few silent seconds. Maybe weighing the price of his soul, or maybe coming to terms with the fact that there’s no such thing, and that right and wrong are all just shades of gray. When he looks up again, the determination is clear as day in his eyes.

“I want in.”

ORION

“This feels like overkill,” Xaviaro says, the five of us standing shoulder to shoulder in the elevator. I feel a little underdressed, sandwiched between the three well-dressed Morettis in their pricey black suits and Italian shoes.

I glance over at Sparrow, leaning casually against the back wall of the elevator, dressed in a leather jacket and a pair of jeans that look about as high end as mine. That is to say, full of holes and possibly hand-me-downs. At least I’m not the only one who passed on the dress code. He flashes a toothy smirk at Xaviaro’s comment, meeting his eyes through the distorted reflection on the metallic walls.

“Who in their right mind would pass up on the fun of gutting a human trafficker?”

Xaviaro’s answering smile definitely gives weight to Elio’s earlier foreplay theory.

Lorenzo sighs. “It’s not supposed to be fun .”

Xaviaro’s expression returns to something icy and stoic, and he nods. “Right. It’s not a game, it’s a job,” he agrees. But I don’t miss the wink he shoots his boyfriend when Lorenzo isn’t looking anymore.

The doors slide open, and we all file out. I hang back until everyone else is out, falling into step at the back of the group. I’m not sure what I was thinking coming along. They don’t need me here, and if I’m being honest, I don’t know for sure that I have the stomach for it. But the burning rage in my gut keeps my feet moving under me. Maybe we didn’t know we were starting something the night Elio took me to that motel, but I need to see it through now.

“Orion,” Lorenzo barks my name, and my pulse skyrockets.

“Uh, yeah?” I answer, picking up my pace until I’m at the front of the group instead of the back, right in step with the Don himself, eating up the distance from the elevator to Casimir’s apartment at record speed.

“I’m going to knock on the door, and when he answers, you’re going to knock him out. Can you handle that?” His voice is calm and quiet in the kind of way that feels powerful, like every word he says holds weight.

I give a jerky nod. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s KO someone. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Lorenzo says crisply, stopping right in front of Casimir’s door.

He raises his fist, and everything feels like it’s slowing down and coming into sharper focus, just like the seconds before a fight. My senses are all cranked up to eleven with the adrenaline pumping through me. The rap of his knuckles against the wood echoes in my ears like thunder, or maybe that’s my pulse. Everything else fades around me. If Casimir hesitates to open the door, I don’t know about it. If anyone else says a word, it’s lost on me. I’m focused on exactly one thing, and the second the door swings open, I act on pure instinct, cocking my arm back and slamming my fist directly into his face.

He stumbles backward with the force and then crumples to the ground. If everything was moving at half speed a few seconds ago, it’s moving twice as fast as usual now to catch back up. Elio, Xaviaro, and Sparrow rush past Lorenzo and I into the apartment. Elio and Xaviaro pick up the unconscious body of hefty, middle-aged Casimir by his arms, one on either side of him. They don’t bother with his legs, settling for dragging him down the hallway, deeper into the apartment.

I’m not sure how many times they’ve run this exact play, or if they’re just a well-oiled machine, but they move around each other like they all know exactly what they’re meant to be doing. Sparrow pulls a chair out from the kitchen table, and Xaviaro and Elio drop Casimir’s limp body into it.

“Get the blinds,” Lorenzo says, and since everyone else is busy, I’m assuming he’s talking to me.

I hustle past them to pull the blinds closed on each of the kitchen windows. When I turn around, Sparrow is whistling a jaunty tune and using a length of rope he must have brought with him to tie Casimir up, binding him to the chair and tying his wrists and ankles. I cock my head and watch his technique with interest. He’s clearly a hell of a lot more advanced than a makeshift belt restraint. Maybe I can ask him for some tips later.

Elio catches my eye and waggles his eyebrows. I put on a stern expression and shake my head, just to toy with him. It shouldn’t feel this natural to flirt with my boyfriend over the unconscious body of a sex trafficker. Maybe I’m more like the monsters than I wanted to admit to myself. Did Jack see that in me? Is that why he was so adamant that I stay away from all this?

Sparrow finishes with the knots on Casimir’s ankles and gets back to his feet gracefully. He glances over at Lorenzo, and the boss gives a single nod. That feral smile I saw in the elevator spreads across the terrifying twink’s mouth again, and he gives the unconscious man a light slap on the cheek.

“Rise and shine, fuckface,” Sparrow singsongs. Casimir grunts and blinks slowly, looking dazed at first, and then fucking terrified when he sees the five of us standing around him. “Look what we have here, Casimir, it’s the consequences of your actions.”

Casimir whips his head around, trying to get a better look at Elio and Enzo, standing slightly behind him on either side. He jerks his arms, testing the knot Sparrow tied around his wrists, then flails, rocking the chair underneath him.

Elio puts a foot on the chair to steady it and leans over with his arms resting on his raised knee. He’s wearing that same friendly smile that’s equal parts unsettling and weirdly hot.

“Hey there, friend. Thanks for having us.”

“I’ve been paying,” he says in a hurry. “Every month, right on time.”

“We know,” Lorenzo says. “And that’s exactly what made us suspicious.”

“Suspicious?”

“It’s a big, fancy word that means we don’t buy your bullshit,” Sparrow explains.

“I paid ,” Casimir says again. “What the fuck do you care where the money is coming from?”

Elio gives a low, threatening chuckle, and Xaviaro steps forward, wearing that grim, blank expression of his.

“Let’s cut to the chase. We know you’re trafficking kids, and that’s not something the Morettis are going to stand for. Now, you’re going to tell us when the next shipment is coming in and if this is a solo project you’ve been working on here in Wildcliff or not.”

The cagey look of fear in Casimir’s eyes turns even more wild, his expression hardening with a stubborn set of his jaw.

“I’m not telling you shit,” he spits.

“Oh goodie. That’s what I was hoping you would say.” Sparrow reaches into his jacket and pulls out a knife as long as his forearm, one edge jagged, with shark-like teeth. Casimir’s eyes go wide. “Do me a favor and hold his head still for me, O?” Sparrow asks, cocking his head to one side and studying our captive, like he’s an artist sizing up a blank canvas, trying to decide the most interesting way to paint it crimson.

I move between Elio and Lorenzo to stand behind Casimir, my hands on either side of his head to hold it still. Sparrow brings the knife to the man’s cheek, pressing the flat steel surface of it against his skin. He wails and tries to buck, but all that accomplishes is bringing the tip of the blade closer to his eye.

“If I tell you, they’ll kill me,” he sputters.

“Cassie, sweetie, we’re going to kill you,” Sparrow says patiently.

“Telling us what we want to know or not is just going to decide how much you suffer first,” Elio says solemnly.

He tries to thrash again, but I hold him still. It feels like an out-of-body experience. I’m me, but not me. Maybe I’m just a new version of me, watching as Sparrow presses the edge of the blade into his skin, slicing shallowly, just enough to draw out a trickle of blood.

“I’m working alone,” Casimir yelps. “Some Russian with a name I can’t pronounce, Nik-something…”

“Nikandr,” Lorenzo supplies, sounding bored by this whole thing. “We know about him.”

“Right,” Casimir agrees. “He showed up at The Starlight and made me an offer. He would ship the merchandise—”

“Kids,” I interject roughly, digging my fingers into his temples a little harder. “They’re not fucking merchandise, they’re kids .”

“I was desperate,” he says, trying to defend himself.

Sparrow scoffs and cuts his other cheek, not bothering to go slow or shallow this time, splitting it open deep enough that a river of blood spills out and cascades down onto his shirt. Casimir wails again.

“Nobody here gives a fuck.” Sparrow puts the tip of his knife under the man’s chin. “That’s one answer down. You’re working alone. Now, when’s the next shipment?”

“As far as I know, I am. But do you have any idea how much money that fucker makes? If you kill me, he’ll just get another middleman in Wildcliff.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Elio says. “We’re going to make sure we send a message loud and clear to Nikandr about who’s in charge in this city, and exactly what we’ll tolerate.”

“Ticktock, Cas.” Sparrow presses the tip of the knife harder against his Adam’s apple. “When’s the shipment?”

Casimir’s breathing speeds up, and I can tell the exact moment he realizes he’s not getting out of here alive. The tension in him breaks, and his whole body sags.

“Tuesday. One-forty-five in the morning. A freighter is going to pull into the docks and there’s supposed to be two dozen girls on board.”

“What about crew?” Lorenzo asks. “How much muscle and how armed are they?”

“I don’t know. Usually about ten guys with sidearms, from what I’ve seen.” Casimir swallows loudly and Sparrow pulls the knife back from his throat. He smirks and pats his cheek.

“Good boy.”

Xaviaro steps around him again, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out a snub-nosed revolver.

“Move,” he says, and it takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me.

Elio snags my arm and pulls me towards him, off to the side, away from Casimir.

“We good?” Xaviaro’s eyes flicker to Lorenzo momentarily, and he gives another single nod.

As embarrassing as it is, I turn and duck my head into the crook of Elio’s neck, flinching at the resounding pop that echoes through the room, followed by an almost unnatural silence. Elio strokes my hair with his fingers, and no one says a word for a few seconds. I drag in a couple of shaky breaths and manage to straighten myself up again. I’m expecting teasing looks from everyone else, but no one seems to notice or care that I don’t quite have the stomach for murder that they do. Sparrow and Xaviaro are already jumping into action, untying Casimir’s limp body and preparing for disposal.

“Come on, Boss. We’re done here,” Elio says, giving me a little nudge.

“Shouldn’t we help?” My throat feels thick as I ask the question, hoping he’ll say no.

“We’re fine.” Sparrow waves us off while Xaviaro mutters something under his breath about laundry that I don’t quite understand.

Lorenzo is right behind us, leaving the two of them to cleanup duty. Elio’s arm is around my shoulders, and I breathe a little easier with each step we take towards the elevators. By the time we reach it, it’s like nothing ever happened. My heart is beating steadily, and there isn’t an ounce of guilt weighing on my conscience.

“You did good, Orion,” Lorenzo says when the doors slide closed behind us. “I wasn’t completely sure if you would fit in with the family the way Elio needs, but you surprised me.”

“I don’t know about that,” I say softly. “I definitely don’t have the flair for it the way Sparrow does.”

“Those two are freaks though,” Elio argues.

Lorenzo’s lips twitch with an almost-smile. “I believe Alessio would call them ‘couple goals.’”

“They’re not going to fuck in that guy’s blood or anything, are they?” I lower my voice, almost afraid to ask.

Elio chuckles. “Honestly, with those two, who the fuck knows.”

“It’s something I prefer not to ask about,” Lorenzo agrees.

The doors open in the lobby, and Elio slips his hand into mine, twining our fingers together.

“Come home with me?” It sounds like he’s asking me to stay the night with him, but there’s a deeper hope in his words that almost feels like he’s asking for more than that.

Jack is back at Shady Oaks, and I can’t think of anything in the world that would tempt me to go back to my own empty bed tonight. Or ever, if I’m being honest with myself.

Elio likes it when I boss him around. Maybe I’ll boss him into inviting me for more than just tonight. Forever sounds like it might be long enough.