Guns n' Boys: Homicidal Instinct (Book 2) (gay dark mafia erotic romance) (30 page)

As soon as the knife
left the hole carved out in Seth’s cheek, Seth started heaving.

Vincente twirled the
knife in his hand as if to show that the bite didn’t affect him. “Let’s start
with something non-invasive. I wouldn’t want you to die too soon after all.”
His eyes shone with such cruelty that Domenico wanted to puncture them with
needles.

“Let’s go with these
useless things.” Vincente snorted and pulled on Seth’s nipple.

Domenico screamed into
the rag. He knew what people like him sometimes did to their contracts. This
could get way, way worse, but he still couldn’t bear the thought of someone
violating Seth’s flesh. Seth was used to comfort, not pain. He wouldn’t be able
to endure all that was in store for him.

Vincente gave Dom an
amused smile. “What? Men don’t need nipples, Domenico.” And with those words,
Vincente pulled harder on Seth’s nipple. He cut into Seth’s skin, spraying yet
more color all over his fingers.

As he cut off the
sensitive skin, Seth started screaming and writhing, and only made it worse for
himself. “Don’t! Stop! Please, please, please, stop.”

Watching him in such
agony was the one kind of pain Domenico could never become numb to. He growled
into the gag,
I’m gonna make you choke on your own cock when I get my hands
on you!
The promise of violence made Domenico thrash around so hard that
the chair tipped, and he fell to the floor, this time without injuring his
head.

Vincente laughed and
threw the bloodied piece of skin that had been Seth’s nipple at him. “Get him
up,” he urged Emilio.

Domenico growled and
shook his hair off his face as he watched the bare meat uncovered on Seth’s
chest. He pulled on the tape again, but all it did was numb his limbs further.
Each and every inch of his body was aching as if there were thousands of
needles biting into his skin when he watched the torture. His nightmare come
true.

“What? It hurts?”
Vincente asked Seth and pushed the tip of his knife into the raw, bleeding meat
on his chest. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you killed our
men.”

Seth hyperventilated as
sweat broke out all over his body. “Dom, don’t look,” he rasped.

Vincente instantly
turned and glanced at Emilio over Dom’s head. “If he closes his eyes, cut off
his fucking eyelids. He’s watching
all
of it.”

Domenico growled into
the gag and shook his head, aiming his eyes at Vincente.
I
will
kill
you, fucker
, he screamed into the cloth,
I will fucking rise from the
grave to claw your eyes out!

Emilio hit the back of
his head, forcing him to look down, but he raised his eyes with passion burning
in his heart and twisted in the tape again. And again. And again.

Seth was barely
breathing as blood slowly dripped from all too many places on his body. When
Vincente grabbed the other nipple, Seth sobbed, but didn’t beg again, resigned
to his fate. But if this continued, Domenico was sure Seth would beg many times
over. First for his life, then for a bullet. By the time the second nipple was
carved off like a piece of a
döner
kebab, Seth trembled so hard Dom was hoping he’d faint and
have at least a moment’s peace. The scrap of flesh was tossed to the ground as
if it were trash, and Dom watched Vincente step on it as he moved to stand
between him and Seth. He took a swing and hit Seth across the face so hard his
chair fell.

Dom watched helplessly
as Seth spat bloodied froth on the concrete, shuddering, his eyes unfocused.
Headphones didn’t hurry with pulling up Seth’s chair, but Dom’s senses were so
alert that he heard steps by the door to the basement before it was even
opened.

“It’s me,” said a
familiar voice. Santo.

Vincente sighed and put
his pimp shoe on top of Seth’s head, twisting his bloodied cheek. “Come in.”

Domenico closed his eyes
for a moment when they began stinging all too much. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.
Exhale. When he opened his eyes, as dry as they should be, Santo was already
in, quiet and expressionless as always.

A gun with a silencer
shone in the sparse light of the basement. If Dom could only reach it… What was
Santo doing here? Had he been upstairs before? Was he checking if Vincente let
Domenico live? All thoughts now spiraled out of control in Dom’s head, the
memories of what he’d done after the accident clashing with what memory he had
now. Fuck. He’d told Santo about his father. Was he here to take revenge? In
that fucking marketplace he hadn’t threatened Dom straight up. What did he
want? Was he someone who could be swayed to keep Seth alive?

Domenico sat up straight
and looked at him, weighing his chances. Santo was a quiet man, up to the point
when Domenico knew he could never be sure of that reptile’s intentions. He gave
a loud growl into the cloth, just to get Santo’s attention, but Emilio’s fist
came down hard on his head.

“I see you have the
situation under control,” Santo said, spreading his lips into a smile.

Vincente smiled back and
opened his mouth to say something, but Santo raised his arm and shot Headphones
in the middle of the forehead. The muted sound of a shot reached Dom’s ears
before he could truly comprehend what was happening, but this was his moment.
The world around him slowed down to give him a chance to act. Sensing Emilio
move behind him in a reflex to hide before he could draw his weapon, Domenico
swung back with all he had, knocking the bastard over. The low ceiling danced
above him, but Emilio’s yell was music to his ears.

“What the fuck, Santo?”
Vincente screamed, and Dom didn’t see what was happening, but heard a blade
drop to the ground.

Emilio pushed Dom off
along with the chair, but half a second later, he let out his last gasp, with a
bullet firmly planted in his brain.

Domenico screamed into
his gag, trying to shake off the tape, but it was just as useless as before.
When he focused and looked across the floor, there were Seth’s eyes watching
him. Reddened, terrified, but tense around the eyelids. Seth spat out more
blood that dripped into his mouth from his pierced cheek.

Santo pointed the gun at
Vincente, who didn’t manage to reach for his own fast enough. “I’ve got some
unfinished business. Kneel.”

Vincente stared at
Santo, wide-eyed, but slowly got to his knees, tense as a string. Domenico
wanted to make him limp.

“Cousin, what are you
doing?” Vincente uttered, and from the way he was lowering his hand slightly,
Domenico predicted he intended to reach for the gun under his jacket.

“Push the gun away,”
Santo said, watching Vincente without blinking. But when Vincente made a move
too quick, as if he wanted to draw, Santo didn’t hesitate and shot him in the
shoulder. “Push. The gun. Away,” he repeated despite Vincente’s scream.

Vincente choked on a
moan but finally did as he was told. The sound of the gun sliding over the
floor was music to Dom’s ears. As much as he didn’t want to read too much into
this, if Santo killed the other Villani men, he could not allow himself to keep
Vincente alive. They all knew it but Vincente, it seemed.

“What are you doing,
Santo? Are you out of your mind?” tried Vincente, raising his hands with a
scowl of pain.

Santo threw him a pair
of handcuffs. “Cuff yourself to the pipe behind you and you might live.”
Domenico was sure that wouldn’t be the case.

“Santo…” Seth rasped
with blood spilling from his lips. “We just wanted to go…”

It was heartbreaking to
see Seth begging for their lives. Domenico gasped and shifted, trying to move
across the floor despite being taped. Each movement of his shoulder brought him
a tiny bit closer to Seth. It hurt to carry his whole weight this way, but he
bit into the cloth and pushed through.

Vincente followed the
order as Santo watched over the whole scene, still as expressionless as before.
He walked over to Domenico once he checked that Vincente was cuffed correctly,
and pulled up Dom’s chair, taking him away from Seth, who was just inches away
at this point.

“I’ve come to settle a
debt, Acerbi,” Santo said and pulled the gag out of Dom’s mouth.

Domenico stared
breathlessly into the green eyes in front of him before he found his voice
again, suddenly filling with hope. “You’re an honorable man, Villani.”

“I pay my debts,” said
Santo, who scooted down to be on Dom’s eye level. “I’m also not stupid. So
first we’re going to talk. I’m not planning to end up like those two,” he
pointed to the dead mafiosi on the floor.

Domenico gave him a
bloodied grin, but his heart was hammering with relief. “Right. Can you pull
Seth up first?”

Santo took a deep
breath, but nodded and walked over to Seth’s chair. As he pulled it up, Seth
let out a few whimpers and sobs, biting on his lips.

“What debt?” Seth
whispered, looking between Dom and Santo, but he didn’t seem to be all there.

“You’ll be fine. I will
be right with you,” whispered Domenico before settling his eyes on Santo again.
The debt had been paid by Frederico the moment he agreed to let Domenico go,
but Santo not knowing this was probably the best thing to ever happen. He must
have felt the weight of it all these years. Always knowing that his belonging
to the Family was built on a lie. And now he was here. A
true
man of
honor.

“Santo, you’re really
choosing those fags over your own? What the fuck?” yelled Vincente, rattling
with the handcuffs somewhere by the wall.

Santo’s lips curled in
distaste. “This ‘fag’,” he pointed to Dom with his head, “saved my life and
killed all the Manettis.”

Vincente swallowed, a
hint of understanding slowly blooming on his face. “
You
killed the
Manettis,” he whispered, though by now he had to know it wasn’t true.

“Shut up, vermin!” Domenico
growled, gasping when he faced Santo again. “You’re a different man now. A real
man.”

Santo picked up the
knife, and the way Seth cowered had Dom want to hug him and tell him everything
would be all right. “I’m paying off my debt today. My father won’t know about
this. You keep saying you want to disappear…” Santo patted the top of Seth’s
head. “Do that. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

Domenico nodded, his
limbs itching for freedom. “You won’t. There’s nothing I want to do with our
Family.”

“Knowing we’re actually
not
family, will help me sleep better.” There was a hint of a smile on Santo’s face.
“You shouldn’t be calling your mother again, Acerbi.”

Domenico scowled. He
must have talked to her too long after she told him about Tassa. “I won’t. We
had our good-bye, and there will be no more television performances for us
either.”

Seth forced his head up
at those words to look at Domenico. “I’m so sorry.”

Domenico exhaled and
looked up at Santo. “We’ll start afresh. All I want now is peace.”

Santo approached Dom
with the knife. “Oh, and you can inform your friend Dana, that she shouldn’t be
showing her face on television either. Frederico wasn’t happy to learn that she
lied for you. I’m guessing you didn’t fuck her for that?”

Domenico shook his head
with a low sigh. So she really did what was asked of her. Lied about their
appearance and the direction they took off to. “I will pass the message on to
her.”

Santo came up to Dom and
released one of his hands from the tape. “I suppose one hand is enough?” He
dropped the knife close enough for Dom to reach, but didn’t give it to him.
Good precautions. “You can have your pick of the three cars outside. One of
them has explosives in the trunk. You can use them for the house. I’ll tell my
father that you died here.”

Domenico swallowed hard,
opening and closing his slightly numb hand. “Thank you. I appreciate what you
did.”

The handcuffs rattled as
Vincente pulled himself up and stood with his back bent. His face was red with
fury and spoke of death. “Shouldn’t I be the first one to be uncuffed?”

Domenico chuckled as he
looked between Vincente and Santo. “Still not very bright, are you?”

Vincente frowned,
looking to Santo. “But I’m the Don now,” he hissed, as blood dripped down his
arm from his shoulder.

“Not anymore,” Santo
said and pointed his gun at him.

Domenico laughed and
spread his lips in a wide grin. Joy was rushing through his heart and spread
into his body with the blood rush. “I think he should be mine. That,” he nodded
at Seth’s battered face, “is a debt that needs to be paid. Spare yourself the
trouble. It’ll be on me.”

Santo shook his head and
pulled the gun down. He made a few steps toward the stairs, but then turned
around as if he remembered something. “Seth. Lucrezia is mine now. Don’t try to
contact her either.”

Domenico chuckled,
grinning at Vincente, who went still, pale and stiff by the wall, as if his
body already knew it would die soon. “You dog!”

Santo left with a smile
more genuine than the ones he’d given before. Domenico shook his head with a
wicked grin and reached to the floor to pick up the bloodied knife. He lifted
it easily enough and once that was done, getting off the chair was swift as a
breeze.