Keep: Romanian Mob Chronicles (13 page)

F
awn

A
fter Esther left
, I managed to fall into an uneasy sleep, probably aided by the pain medication. I awoke to find Vasile standing beside the bed looking down at me, his face that distant, unreadable mask that I’d seen far too much of, his body shrouded in the semidarkness of the bedroom. I felt the attraction I always did when I looked at him, but it soon dissipated in the face of overwhelming sadness. We’d gotten closer. He’d opened up to me, and now that connection had been severed, probably wouldn’t ever come back.

I reached for him, but he covered my hand with his and gently pushed it back down on the bed.

“Easy. Don’t push.”

His hand lingered on mine, and I wanted to grab it, hold it to me, but when I reached for him again, he pulled away.

“Vasile…”

He stared down at me, face now determined. I knew what would come next.

“You have to go?”

He nodded.

“Do you know when you’ll be back?” I asked, hoping he’d say it was soon, praying he would in fact come back.

“No,” he said.

“But when you come back, it will be done,” I said. I’d guessed as much, had seen how not responding was eating at him and could only hope that once it was done, we could start to build the little family that I had only dreamed of, me, him, and Maria, together, happy.

“It will be done.”

He stood silent then as if waiting for me to say something. But there was nothing I could say. I could tell him that nothing would come from more killing, say what was done was done, but that was bullshit. He never, ever, involved me in his business, but he seemed to treat his men fairly. But this, an attack on his home, on his child, would be punished severely, fatally and I was happy about it.

I felt so weak, so useless, especially since there was no way I could help him. But I could give him my support. Before he could react, I grabbed his huge hand, kissed his rough fingers. Then I stared up at him.

“Do it. And then come back to me.”

A short nod was his only response.

V
asile

“He is in
his home?” I asked.

“Yes, he’s being acquired now,” Priest said.

“Good. He’ll be my second stop.”

I drove toward Vargas’s, an eerie feeling of déjà vu at the back of my mind. It had been less than a week since I had last done this and in that time, my entire world had burned down.

This wouldn’t fix it, wouldn’t fix anything. But it was something I had to do. When I’d told Fawn, I hadn’t been sure how she’d react, and I still couldn’t tell how she had. She’d gone mysterious, unreadable as she’d been that first day. Did she think me a monster?

Probably.

The things I would do tonight would not dissuade her.

I parked in Vargas’s driveway and then got out, unconcerned about being seen.

“This is where I leave you. I hope you find peace,” Priest said.

“I didn’t come here for peace,” I replied.

I entered the huge house, heartbeat accelerating at the first whiff of the air.

Then I followed the muffled whimpers up the stairs into the opulent bedroom. My gaze landed on Sorin, who stood with the others, face flat, eyes hooded. I nodded quickly and then turned my attention to the rest of the room.

The walls were covered with reminders of his Incan heritage. He’d have a connection to his homeland in these last moments, which was more than he deserved.

I strolled to the middle of the room where Vargas lay duct taped to the bed, spread eagle. His mouth was gagged, and he moved his head furiously, his screams muffled.

“Hello, Vargas.” I smiled. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

Adrenaline raced through me, setting my heart to pound but with excitement not fear, and a part of me hoped Vargas would lie, would give me a chance to stretch this out.

He nodded frantically, and I walked over and peeled the tape off his mouth slowly, and as always, he disappointed.

“I’m sorry. I tried to talk him out of it, but I owed his family. The debt had to be paid. You understand. I had no choice.”

“Of course you did,” I said casually, managing to keep a hold on the rage threatening to boil over and force me to end this far earlier than I intended.

“I didn’t, Petran,” he sobbed, shaking his head violently.

“You did. You chose poorly,” I said.

I extended my arm, and Sorin handed me the small container. I walked a circle, pouring the accelerant on the mattress, and then dousing Vargas.

He closed his eyes and then began to whimper, the sound faint yet ferocious.

“Do you know what that is?” I asked.

He mumbled in Spanish and didn’t respond.

“I asked a question, Vargas,” I said.

He shook his head.

“It’s turpentine. An amazing substance. It’ll suffocate you eventually, scar your lungs until they stop working. But it burns slow, eats away at you layer by layer. And you’ll be awake for it all. I’ll make sure of that.”

“My wife! My kids! Where are they?”

Instead of responding, I tossed a match onto the bed and watched as the sheets and then Vargas were eaten by flames.

V
asile

“You probably should
kill them too,” Sorin said. “The wife and kids.”

“Probably,” I said flatly, “but I think she’s smart enough to disappear. I don’t want any more innocents to suffer unless they have to, and I don’t think she cared enough to give her life for Vargas. Besides,” I said wearily, “everyone is watching, and while I will get my vengeance, I think the others might appreciate some restraint when it comes to the women and children.”

“I think so too,” he reluctantly agreed.

And then I went quiet, my mind full to overflowing with thoughts and emotions I could barely contain.

My hands tingled with the excitement of what I was about to do. It should have disgusted me, and maybe somewhere deep inside it did. But it also filled me with the first hint of satisfaction I’d felt since I’d found Fawn on that floor, my baby’s life seeping out of her. So it may have been wrong, but I wouldn’t pretend my vengeance wasn’t something I looked forward to with racing anticipation. Something that I would savor, relish, something that would, to whatever small degree, make at least one small thing in this world right.

Sorin, seeming to sense my mood, stayed quiet during the drive.

When I parked, I turned to him. “You and the others stay here,” I said.

He looked me up and down, but I couldn’t tell what he thought and didn’t care. My mind was already inside the abandoned warehouse, my body explosive with anticipation.

“I’ll be here whenever you’re ready,” Sorin said.

I got out of the car.

V
asile

“
L
et me up
, motherfuckers!” David yelled, defiant till the end.

Which was fine by me. He could yell all he wanted. It wouldn’t change anything.

I entered the building, breathing deeply, trying to calm my racing heart. I halfway wondered if when I saw him, I’d be so overcome, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from killing him instantly. I really, really hoped that wouldn’t happen.

I had plans.

Still, my hands shook with the energy that flowed through me, and with every step, my heart pounded a little harder.

And then I saw him, and everything stopped.

He hadn’t been touched, just as I had ordered, still somehow managing to look as if he owned the world. Even the fact he was bound to a chair with no hope of escape didn’t seem to bother him.

“So that’s how it is, huh? You’re supposed to be this big boss motherfucker. Your clan and your honor and all that bullshit, and you’re gonna do it like this? Kill a man without giving him a chance to fight back?” he spat.

“A chance to fight back like Fawn had? Like my baby had?” I yelled, my voice sounding monstrous even to my own ears.

He went quiet and something in his face changed. Then he said, “Look, Petran, I didn’t mean for that to happen. But we got a good thing here. You have to think about the other clans, the Peruvians, the Sicilians, everybody! I handle all their money. You’re gonna have a lot to explain if you do this.”

Almost dizzy with anticipation of what I was about to do, anger at what he’d done, I stepped closer as he spoke, and when I stuck my hand in my pocket, he stopped, face going alert with curiosity and wariness. I pulled the small needle-nose pliers from my pocket, not trying to hide them.

He swallowed nervously, and his eyes went wide.

“I’ll leave you alone. I swear, you will never see me again.”

“The first true thing you’ve said,” I said.

And then I stepped closer, the pliers tight in my grip.

V
asile

“I’m sorry,” David said.

He was fading, and so was I. These last hours had been taxing for both of us.

He turned the eye that he could still open toward me.

“You stole her from me,” he said on a thick, slurred voice. “She was mine. And then she wasn’t, because you took her!”

I ignored him and instead ripped the remnants of his bloody shirt off his body, exposing his arm. My gaze zeroed in on the fat, juicy vein that sat in the crook of his elbow.

“That mark on her arm, the one that you put there. She touches it sometimes. I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it, but I see it. She touches it and then gets this look in her eye.”

“She did that herself! I fucking saved her…” He cut off on a deep cough, the blood he brought up dribbling out of his mouth and onto his chest. I ignored him though, instead focused on that vein, thought I could hear the blood rushing through it, felt my lungs squeeze tight with the excitement of the thought of opening it.

“You remember what you told her? That she could only die when you said so?”

He gurgled and said something indecipherable.

“Answer me!” I yelled.

“Yes,” he pushed out through swollen lips.

“That wasn’t true. You took from us, took from her, but she’s still here. Will be long after you’re not even a memory.”

I wrapped the pliers, now slick with David’s blood and my sweat around that vein. Then I clipped, watched as the blood gushed from the wound, fast at first and then slower, and then even slower until it was just a trickle.

He went limp and I waited. Watched the blood drip, drip, drip out of him.

A long time later, I left.

V
asile

“You drive,” I
said to Sorin.

I was so exhausted I could barely move, but I felt something that approached peace. I’d never heal, would never forget, but he no longer breathed. And if I’d never given Fawn anything but suffering, at least I could say I’d given her that. Small, but maybe it would help me make amends for so profoundly failing her, failing both of them.

The ride home was a blur as was the walk up the stairs. I stripped and went straight to the second bathroom, not wanting to bring my filth to her. And then, more tired than I could ever recall being, I stumbled into the bedroom. She jolted and then turned to me. I stumbled and kneeled next to the bed, my head next to her. She reached out to me, and I clasped her hand in mine, feeling that rightness, relief, that I always did with her. It was different now, but it was there nonetheless, and I prayed that at least some of it would survive.

And then I slept.