Protect Me (Broken Heroes 2)

I eye the fucker. He looks like one of my brother’s men. Dressed in a black suit, looking more like a secret agent than a fucking member of the Rossi crime family. My brother must think he’s real sneaky sending people here to grab her. Like he doesn’t already know what will happen if he tries to take her from me.

“Who is he?” Keira appears in the hallway, her suitcase behind her. I gaze down at her. She looks so small, so fragile. I must remind myself to be kind to her and treat her as mine.

“A soon to be dead man.” I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Toni’s number.

After two rings, he answers, “Boss?”

“I need some men sent out to Keira’s place. I’ve got a live body, and I need it moved to the basement.”

Keira’s eyes go wide. She doesn’t understand anything I’ve said, but she will when she sees what’s going to happen.

“All right. I’ll send some men out now.”

On Toni’s confirmation, I hang up and pocket my phone. I have half a mind to kill this bastard now, but if I do, I miss the precious opportunity to get information from him.

“Are you going to kill him?”

I shrug. “Eventually, but right now, I’m going to use him to the best of my advantage. The guy he works for is after you.”

I watch as she stands in the hall nervous, her eyes refusing to look at anything but the two feet in front of her. Being here scares her, and I wish it didn’t. I wish the world was a better place and she never ended up in this situation. But the world is hateful, cruel, and will kick you when you’re down. And some of the scariest monsters hide in plain sight.

***

My fist connects with his jaw again, making his head swing to the side. Blood pours from his nose and mouth. My knuckles start to swell and turn blue. The pain is an absent thought—I could do this all night, but beating the shit out of him with my fists isn’t going to get me the answers I want.

I decide to switch to a knife to get this show on the road. As soon as I unsheathe the blade the bastard’s eyes go wide.

“Are you ready to tell me why my brother sent you? Or maybe what the fuck he wants with Keira?” I loom over him, sliding the blade across the fucker’s bare chest. He has a Rossi Crime tattoo on his chest, and I consider skinning him and sending the fucking thing to my brother.

“I’m a dead man anyway, but you know that already—so why would I tell you anything?” He can barely talk. Blood is filling his mouth from a cut inside his cheek, and he keeps spitting the red out. It flies everywhere, and it’s fucking annoying the shit out of me.

“You are right about that, but if you do tell me what I want to know I’ll kill you much quicker and with much less pain. Maybe if you tell me now, I won’t come after the people you love next.” The asshole starts laughing, actually fucking laughing, and I wonder if this guy has balls of steel.

“You know better than anyone that guys like us don’t get to love anybody. No family. No kids. No wives. You can try to kill ‘em but they don’t exist.”

I know we shouldn’t have attachments.

I walk over to the table and select a new knife, a deadlier one. I run my thumb over the sharp edge. The blade cuts into my skin, causing the blood to swell over the insignificant cut.

Sharp enough to cut through bone…I hope. I rub at my jaw, staring down at the idiot like he’s a science project instead of a human.

“Alright then, let’s see if you change your mind after I carve some holes in your legs.” With complete precision, I take the knife and start cutting slowly into his upper thigh. I take my time slicing through skin as if I’m field dressing an animal. The fucker starts screaming right away. Music to my fucking ears.

I would be a lying bastard if I said his screams didn’t bring me immense pleasure. Having this kind of control and power makes me feel invincible—like a fucking king. I toss the chunk of flesh to the floor like it’s a piece of garbage. Blood is everywhere—on my hands, dripping on the floor.

I’m about to slice a second piece of flesh out when the door opens.

I look up from the task at hand, ready to yell at the unlucky bastard who walked in at the wrong time when I realize it isn’t one of my men—but my woman. Beautiful, vibrant brown eyes stare back at me, and for a moment, they make me stop and forget where I am and what I’m doing.