“N-No,” Basil croaks. “Gone.”
Adrian jolts from his stupor and sits beside Basil on the bed. I mimic his actions, coming up on the other side. As Adrian grabs Basil’s hand and lets out a choked sound, I drag my stare over his open torso. His intestines have been pulled out some and hang over the sides of his ribs, dripping in sticky blood. He has to be in agonizing pain.
“We need to call an ambulance,” I mutter, fixated on the horrific sight.
Adrian jerks his head my way. “That shit isn’t fixable, Boss.” His cheeks are wet with tears. “I thought he was a rat.”
I sit down next to Basil and frown at him. “We didn’t think you were a rat,” I explain. “We just figured you were with one. And we were right. Where’s he headed next? Give me anything and I’ll put you out of your misery.”
Basil’s face scrunches. “H-He wants b-back at the h-hotel…”
“Why?” I growl. “We’ve not even been there.”
“Info…info…” He groans.
“Information?”
“Yesss,” Basil whispers.
Aris is nothing without his numbers and he wants them back. Makes fucking sense. Over my dead body.
“You served me well,” I tell Basil. “Say goodbye to Adrian.”
Adrian makes a growling sound of a pained animal. He leans forward and presses his forehead to Basil’s. “I love you, brother,” Adrian tells Basil. He sighs hard and then he’s gone, leaving me alone with Basil.
“Thank you,” I mutter, pulling out my Glock. “A promise is a promise.”
Holding the barrel against his temple, I stare into Basil’s dark eyes so he doesn’t have to die alone, and I pull the trigger.
Aris will pay for this.
His time is running out.
Talia
“How are you doing?” I ask Kostas. He’s standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie, and looks like he’s a million miles away. When he got home last night, he filled me in on everything. His private plane has been blown to bits, and Basil was found in a shitty motel, alone and dying.
I didn’t know him well, but from what I’ve seen, Kostas, Adrian, and Basil were all close. As close to friends as three men in this world can be. The way he looked at me, with sad, distant eyes when he told me about his death, had me wanting to hold him close.
Kostas won’t ever say it, but I think he blames himself for Basil’s death. If he had looked harder, maybe he would’ve found him in time. My poor husband has suffered so much loss in his life, I don’t know how he even gets out of bed in the morning. If I were knocked down as many times as him, I don’t think I would be able to get up.
But in typical Kostas fashion, he quickly schooled his features and pretended like everything was okay. He made love to me slowly and told me no less than a dozen times he’s going to catch his brother.
“I’m okay,” he says for the millionth time, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. “How about I pick up dinner on my way home to make up for the one I fucked up the other night?”
He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed where Zoe and I are still lying. Zoe likes to wake up at the crack of dawn, have a bottle, and then come back to bed with Kostas and me for early morning snuggles. I warned Kostas the first time she did it, she would keep doing it. He just shrugged and said he hoped so.
“You already made up for that dinner.” I smile, recalling the way he made up for it several times. First with his tongue, and then a couple more times with his cock.
Kostas smirks, knowing what’s running through my head. “Still, I’ll pick up dinner.” He leans over and kisses my lips. Groaning into his mouth, I grab his lapels and try to pull him back into bed.
He chuckles and stands. “Not happening, moró mou. I have another appointment with the insurance adjuster.”
“For the plane?”
“Yeah.” He pecks my lips one more time. “I should be home early. Behave.”
A little while later, Zoe wakes up drooling and cranky. I think another tooth is coming in. After she’s changed and fed, I give her to my mom to hold so I can find one of the men to go to the store to pick up medicine.
As I’m opening the front door, I run straight into Fowler. Our bodies collide and his hands land on my hips. Not wanting him to touch me, I move out of his reach, but his fingers are digging into my skin, preventing me from moving.
“Let go of me,” I hiss, swatting at his hands.
“Would you rather I let you fall?” He smirks evilly.
Anger burns through me and I’m seconds from clawing his face apart.
“Get your fucking hands off my sister,” Phoenix growls, walking up behind Fowler. “Now.”
Fowler stares me down in an arrogant way that leads me to believe he thinks he’s powerful and untouchable. But based on the fury rippling from my brother and when Kostas gets wind of this, this asshole will learn his place in my home—in my world.
“My bad.” He releases his hold on me and raises his palms into the air.
“Why the fuck were you touching her?” Phoenix accuses. “Didn’t we already talk about this?” He steps into Fowler’s face.
Fowler grins wide, as if they’re two old friends in on a joke. “Bro, I didn’t touch her—” Fowler begins, but Phoenix cuts him off.
“I’m not your bro.”
Fowler just laughs. “Look, man, she ran into me and I caught her so she didn’t bust her ass. Next time I’ll just let her fall.” He shrugs and walks around Phoenix.
“Two strikes,” Phoenix calls over his shoulder.
He says it loud enough that Fowler can hear him, but he keeps walking, pretending he doesn’t.
“That guy seriously rubs me the wrong way,” I tell Phoenix.
“Yeah, he’s a punk.”
“What’s with the two strikes?” I ask, curious.
“Three strikes and he’s out.” He looks over his shoulder then back at me. “Why were you coming out here?”
“Zoe is teething. I need someone to run to the store to buy her pain medicine.”
“Is she okay?” Phoenix’s brows furrow in concern. I never imagined I would ever have my brother in my life, let alone my daughter’s. And I definitely never thought Phoenix would be such a hands-on uncle. Growing up, I only got to see him for a short time over the summer, or for the holidays when he would visit. I always assumed he was just like Niles—selfish and irresponsible. But he’s actually nothing like him. His only fault was that he was loyal to his dad—until he wasn’t.
“She’s fine. I just want to make sure she’s not in pain. She’s whining and being cranky.”
“Sounds a lot like her mom.” Phoenix smirks.
“Hush it.” I push his shoulder playfully.
“I’ll send Fowler to go get it.” He laughs. “He’s not doing shit anyway, so he can play errand boy. Make himself useful.”
“I think it’s time for me to go home,” Mom says. We’re sitting on the floor in Zoe’s nursery, watching as she crawls all over the place, knocking blocks over and smashing the keys to her soft play piano.