“Not yet. We need to delay him.”
“Want me to ram his car?”
“Go ask him for a smoke.”
“You sure?”
“Just do it. Hurry up and move. He doesn’t know your face.”
Stefano hangs up. I watch the big man exit his truck and walk slowly toward Dominic. I can tell the Serrano kid’s on edge, but Stefano can be a charming guy sometimes, and it’s hard to turn down a big man like that. They talk for a second, and Stefano pretends to fumble Dominic’s lighter, laughing as he does it.
“Cars are clear,” Enzo says, frowning as the last of them pulls out and speeds away.
I shove the door open and get out. Dominic is too busy talking to Stefano to notice me coming until it’s too late. As I approach with Enzo at my back, the young Serrano boy’s eyes go wide with recognition, and he looks around, ready to bolt.
But he doesn’t get far. Stefano grabs him by the face, one big, meaty hand gripping him by the skull, while the other curls into a fist. He punches Dominic in the gut three times and throws him to the pavement, the boy groaning in shock and pain.
I reach out and lightly take the cigarette from Stefano. He grunts at me, eyes shining with joy as he breathes hard over Dominic’s prone body.
“Nasty habit,” I comment, crouching over him. “I’m guessing you know who I am.”
“Fuck… can’t breathe…” He’s wheezing and gasping.
Stefano snorts. “Fucking baby. I barely hit him.”
“Take your time, Dominic. Get yourself together.”
He gasps for air, lying on his back and panting as he stares at the sky. Slowly, his eyes roll to meet mine, and I give him a nice smile as I flick ash onto the blacktop.
“I’m not a part of this,” Dominic says quietly. He’s trying hard not to look afraid, but his face is pinched in terror. “I don’t know anything about my father’s plans, okay?”
“Well, see, that’s a problem for you.” I reach out and grab his wrist. He flinches as I jerk it forward, then quickly jab the cigarette down onto his forearm.
He screams and tries to pull away, but I put my weight on him and hold him down. The skin sizzles and burns until the cigarette goes out. I toss the butt aside.
“Fuck you,” he groans, yanking his arm back when I let him go.
“I just have one question. Where’s your dad hiding?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t!”
I snap my fingers and hold a hand out. Enzo places a hammer in my palm. The head is worn and stained from blood and rust. It’s an ugly piece and could really use a cleaning, but I find it’s a lot more menacing like this. Dominic stares at my hammer, mouth hanging open in tangible fear.
“Last chance.”
“Please, please, don’t do it. I really don’t know where he’s been! I’m not a part?—”
Stefano grabs his wrist. Enzo holds him tight. I smash the hammer down on his hand, aiming for his pinky finger. I miss, though, and break his middle and index fingers instead. They snap with a satisfying crunch, and Dominic screams again,writhing and fighting like a caged animal. My men keep him steady, and Stefano shoves a dirty rag into his mouth to shut him up for a little while.
He’s breathing hard and staring at me with wild eyes. I lean back, studying him. I let him sit with the pain as I slowly turn the hammer around in circles in my hand. He can imagine what I’ll do next. Most likely, whatever’s in his head is worse than what I’m actually going to do. But probably not by much.
“Try again. Where’s Corrado?”
“I don’t know,” he whimpers, but it’s not convincing. “Please. I really?—”
I slam it down on his hand again. This time, I get the thumb. It’s a swollen mess of blood and bone when I’m done smashing it to nothing, and he’ll probably never use it right again. Assuming the doctors don’t just amputate the ruined thing.
“You’re going to run out of fingers soon,” I say, tapping the hammer against his knee. “But don’t worry. You’ve got plenty of bones.”
