Because I almost went mad driving here. “Where is he?”
“Lo’s giving him a tour of the zoo,” he replies as we stroll through. “Our cats are a bit picky about their food. They like their food brave and piss-free. And the food you sent us is a little bitch. So they aren’t showing much interest in him.”
“So feed him to the piranhas.”
“The cleanup with the bones after a piranha feed can be a pain in the ass. So I only feed them food that committed egregious crimes. You know, like raping a toddler or killing children. That kind of shit is worth the noisy screamsandthe cleanup.” He glances at me. “What did this food do?”
“Flesh trade.”
“Nah, it’s more than that. Or you wouldn’t be here,” he calls me out. “This is personal.”
“He put a hit on someone I… care about.”
“What is with you Garzas all of a sudden? Getting sucked in and strapped down by love.” He tsks. “Youare the last person I’d expect to fall into that trap.”
“Not in love with anyone.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “Sure, cousin. Sure.”
We find Lorenzo by the bridge above the crocodile swamp with Sergeant Jones. He’s bound and taped and reeks of piss. His face dotted with fresh cigar burns. His red-rimmed eyes widen when he sees me. Probably thinks I’m here to save him. ’Cause that’s what Red Cage is known for. Saving.
Not this time.
“I see you’ve been having some fun,” I direct at Lorenzo.
“Oh, that’s for when he tried to extort me during a traffic stop some time ago.” He gives a lazy shrug. “I never forget faces.”
“You’ve decided on the crocodiles?”
“They’re the hungriest right now, so yeah. And these are vicious man-eaters.”
Truth is, I don’t give two shits how he’s eaten. He just needs to die, and I need to see it happen. I rip the tape from the sergeant’s mouth. He yowls and promptly starts begging.
“Please, please, don’t do this. You’re one of the good ones. Don’t do this!”
That makes me snort. Anyone who thinks I’m one of the good ones has nevertrulymet me. “Stop begging. You tried to sell your neighbor’stwelve-year-olddaughters into sex slavery, you heartless fuck.”
His eyes stretch wide as he finally realizes the reason behind his taking. “P-p-please. I’ll d-do whatever you want. A-anything. I’ll turn myself in.”
“Stop crying. It’s sickening to watch.”
Lorenzo lights up a cigar.
The sergeant ratchets up the pleading and the waterworks. It never ceases to amaze me how people who commit such heinous crimes can be so afraid of death. Once the decision has been made to travel down a path of evil, untimely death should not only be expected, but prepared for. And when it comes, it should be faced head on. ’Cause it’s the one thing that can’t be cheated.
Tired of his cowardice, I get out my switchblade and flick it open. In one move, I swipe the blade from one side of his cheek to the other. “Smile, motherfucker.”
He squalls as rivulets of red spill from the gashes like dripping paint.
“Dio, this one’s got some pipes on him,” Stefano grumbles.
“Now die like the vermin you are.” With that, I kick him backward with all the force my right leg has to offer. He’s a well-built man, after all.
It knocks him back against the railing, and he topples, about to flip over it to his death, but Lorenzo catches him by a fistful of his shirt and yanks him back.
“What thefuck, Lo?” I’m about to advance on him when Stefano lurches in front of me, chucking me backward.
“Look at him,” Lorenzo says to me over Stefano’s shoulder. “He’s not dead.Youdidn’t kill him.”
