My heart goes from meek stuttering to wild pounding. I see the TV on in the living area and immediately recognize the voice as Gio’s. Without a second thought, my feet carry me there.
Ling calls out, “Don’t go in there!” Then she adds a panicked, “Fuck. Don’t let her watch, Julius. It’s bad.”
My legs take me as far as the open doorway. The image on the television rocks me. I barely notice when Julius moves past me, remote in hand. I snarl, “Leave it on.”
“Ana, baby, you don’t want to see this. Let me take care of it,” he offers reasonably.
Without any heat, I return, “Shut up.”
Moving toward him, I take the remote out of his hand, and he lets me. I turn the volume up louder than is necessary, but I need it. I’m so afraid of missing even a single moment.
My eyes water at the brightness of the screen, but instead of retreating, I move closer.
I skip back to the very beginning of the video and watch the horror unfold.
Gio steps into the screen. “Is this thing on? Yes. Good. Okay.” With a sigh, he moves to sit down on the empty chair.
The chair next to my bound and bloodied brother.
Miguel sits tall, even though his breathing is labored and his brow is split open, raw to the bone. He can’t talk due to the rag tied around his gawking mouth. His eyes are duller than I have ever seen them. He can barely keep them open.
Gio shuffles around in the chair. “Okay, so I’m guessing by now, you know that word has spread.” His smile is mocking. “Congratulations to the happy couple.” He claps lightly then turns to my brother, mussing up his hair playfully. “This guy, huh? You have to love this guy. So much faith, so little brains.”
Gio stands then, beginning to pace, all signs of humor lost. Suddenly, he stops and faces the camera, arms wide before placing his hands on his hips. “What the fuck were you thinking, Alejandra?”
He blinks into the screen as if waiting for a response. “We had a good thing going, you, me, and Dino. You were good for us. I mean, you fought, but I know deep down you liked it. You didn’t make us work too hard for it. It was the same every time. You fought, you broke, and then you sat there, and you took it, like a good girl. You were quiet and meek and fucking pathetic.” He glares. “Exactly the way a woman should be.” Sitting by my brother, he shrugs. “So what happened? What changed?” He nods as if in understanding. “Okay, so you’re pregnant.” He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “So fucking what?” Leaning in, he sobers and places his fingers to his lips, before removing them and stating, “I need you to understand that this baby, this brat, is mine now. I claim it as my own, and I’m coming for you and it.” He smirks cruelly. “I need to take care of my family, after all. The boy will need his uncle.” He glances at my brother quickly before looking back at the camera, his eyes shuttered. “One of them, at least.”
He stands from his sitting position, reaches behind him and removes a large hunting knife, running his fingers gently against the sharp blade. “What did you think, that I’d let you go like nothing ever happened?” He rushes forward, stopping just before hitting the camera, his eyes blazing, and growls through gritted teeth, “You took away the only person who understood me. The only fucking person who got it. Got me.” He steps away and runs a calming hand through his short hair. “And look at who you left me with.” He throws me a what-the-fuck expression. “My baby brother, Luc? The fucking pansy? I’ll bet if you pull down his pants, you’ll find a fucking pussy where his cock should be. Mister No-Unnecessary-Violence. Mister Making-Love-Is-Dandy.” A look of disgust crosses him as he shakes his head. “You fucking bitch. I will gut you for this.”
He stills then blinks up into the camera as though he just got a better idea.
Gio takes his knife and stills. “You need to be punished, Alejandra, and since you’re not here, someone needs to fill in.”
When he moves toward my brother, I’m already sobbing. “No,” I whisper hoarsely, my body quaking as I cry. “Please don’t.”
But I know my pleas are pointless. This video is only showing me what has come to be. And in my heart, I know my brother is already dead.
Gio grips Miguel’s hair and pulls hard, getting down so they’re nose to nose. My brother winces as Gio snarls, “What are you doing talking to Falco?” He wrenches his head back harder. “You got no fucking business talking to a man like that, you fucking faggot.” In the ultimate act of insult, he releases him a moment, only to slap him across the face. “Tell me what you sent him, and I’ll let you go.”
Gio pulls down the makeshift gag and my brother’s lip curls, his response weak and breathy. “Fuck you, you sick fuck.”
Gio laughs harshly before head-butting him. As Miguel groans, Gio cricks his neck and gloats, “If I remember correctly, your sister said the same thing when I tied her to Dino’s bed and took her tight little asshole.” He grabs his crotch and shakes it lightly. “Oh yeah, she screamed all right, but you bet she liked that shit.”
At that, I hear rapid footsteps, and then something behind me shatters. Julius lets out an animalistic roar that jolts me, but not enough to look away.
The tears don’t stop as I watch Gio beat up my brother. When he plunges the knife into his chest, I let out a sobbing shriek and stumble back in the shock of what I’ve just witnessed. “No, no, no,” I cry, my entire body weak and shaking.
My eyes close in suppressed grief, but only for a moment.
At the sounds of my brother’s groan, I look at the screen and almost wish I hadn’t.
Gio, having pushed my brother’s chair to the ground, stabs him repeatedly in the stomach and chest with all his might, and I can only watch as my brother blinks sluggishly, wheezing out his last breaths.
I don’t cry anymore. I can’t. Emotion has left me. All that is left is hazy detachment.
I am numb.
I am cold.
Blood roars in my ears and I barely blink as Gio slices my brother from chest to stomach, laughing, and begins to remove his insides, disemboweling him. My brother trembles and shakes as blood drips from the corner of his mouth.
Before he finds peace, Miguel turns his face to the camera, his eyes closing in a tired darkness that will soon become permanent, and wheezes out a gurgling, “Ana… Kick… Scream… Fight.”
I find no comfort in knowing my brother died a proud man. Not when the empty vessel that carried him stares so openly at me, silently cursing me to the depths of hell.
Gio stands from his kneeling position over my brother and wipes off the blade onto his pants. “I didn’t want to do that, Alejandra.” He chuckles to himself. “Who am I kidding?” His bloodstained face grins. “Yes, I did. And I really enjoyed it. I’m fucking hard from it.”
My guts recoil at the realization it’s not his blood.
He moves to take a seat, stepping over my brother to get there. “Now, what did we learn today?” Resting his hands on his lap, he entwines his fingers and stares, unblinking, into the screen. “Newton said that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” He looks down at my brother’s body with raised brows then smiles. “I’m thinking he’s right.”
His face somber, he mutters calmly, “You take something from me, I take something from you.”
Gio stands and vows, “I’m coming for you, and you’d better be ready for me when I get there, baby.” He takes the camera into his hands. The screen shakes as he places it at eye level. “I was going to wait, but I think I’d better tell you the good news now.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “My father wants us tied together once more. He wants our families to try again. They wanted me to marry Veronica, but as it turns out, Luc wants her. Oh, I fought for what I want. You’re going to love this.” His smile darkens as he reveals quietly, toxic, “I get Rosa.”
The screen goes blank, and with it, my mind.
In the past five minutes, I’ve witnessed a madman’s rage, my brother’s death, and the promise of making my thirteen-year-old sister a constant victim o
f rape, abuse, and mental torture.
What was he thinking, that I was just going to sit by idly and let that happen?
Fuck no.
I decide right then and there.
I’m going to kill Gio.
I’m going to kill him myself.
An unexpected spell of courage blooms from deep within my gut. I will be ready for him when he comes.
My feet spin and I walk out of the room, shouting out, “Call Signor Falco. Call him right now. If my brother sent him something, it’s got to be important.”
Whatever it is, for my own sake, I pray it’s useful.
Bogdan Mihailovic is a sentimental fuck. He is also third on my list of five.
Although Yugoslavia no longer exists, regardless of the fact that the breakup of the country happened back in ‘92, Mihailovic still calls his crew The Yugo Boys. The Serbo-Amercian group is too chaotic to be called a firm, too organized to be called a mere gang.
They’re stuck somewhere in between. Have been since I met them.
I know a few Serbian men, and for the most part, they’re decent people, but this group of men… they are out of control. They do nothing in halves. Eating feasts every damn night, partying too hard and drinking too much. Overindulgence is a specialty of theirs.
Mihailovic doesn’t know it yet, but The Yugo Boys are done. Their time has come to disband, and I don’t feel the least bit sorry for making that happen.
After taking down Neo Metaxas and the pinnacle shot that saved Black’s life, I had been given more freedom to do as I please. Not that I ever need permission.
I always was more an ask forgiveness than permission type of guy.