Page 67 of Devious Knight

Dmitri walks over to the truck, opens the back, and doses the packages of cocaine with the gasoline. Logan takes out his knife and slashes them open.

“No, don’t do that. I’ll get in trouble when the boss finds out.”

“Don’t worry. Where you’re going you won’t have to worry about him anymore. You’ll have a whole new set of worries.” I kick him again.

“Where am I going?” Giovanni winces.

“An island off the coast of nowhere the Bratva uses for scum like you.”

He starts panting like he’s going to have a panic attack.

I thought Hell’s Island would be a perfect place for him. It’s actually a private island near Thasos the Bratva uses as an off-grid location to deal with people like this guy who they want to punish. When you go there you disappear forever.

While Dmitri and Logan continue dosing the truck, I kick the shit out of Giovanni. By the time I’m done with him he’s a bloody, crying mess.

Another truck pulls up to us. This is one of my guys. A contact my uncle uses when he needs to dispose of certain things or people.

Big Joe steps out of the truck and his gaze goes straight to Giovanni squirming on the ground.

When I was little I used to think Big Joe was a giant. He’s nearly seven feet tall and is built like The Rock.

“Is this him?” he asks, grinning at Giovanni.

“Sure is, and he’s all yours,” I answer.

Big Joe laughs, sounding like a monster from a nightmare.

Giovanni has just enough energy left to try and get away, but he’s moving at a snail’s pace.

Joe marches over to him and zip ties his hands and feet. Then he easily picks him up, throws him over his shoulder and hauls him into the back of his truck where a large Rottweiler sits. Giovanni’s screams are cut off.

“Until next time, mikrós polemistís,” Joe says, calling me little warrior in Greek.

That’s what my mother used to call me. Hearing him call me that pulls memories of her to my mind and the ache in my heart that I can never soothe.

“Next time.” I tip my head.

Joe gets in the truck and drives away.

I turn back to Dmitri and Logan and nod, signaling them to start the fire.

They do, and when it blazes we get away from there. Our bikes are parked around the corner.

We rush toward them but I stop just as I’m about to jump on.

Like the other night there’s a lone biker parked in the distance.

Alek. He followed us again.

Tonight he’s parked near the river but positioned himself where he knew we’d be able to see him. Or rather I would.

Dmitri comes to my side and follows my gaze.

“That’s Alek,” he says in a low voice as if Alek can hear him.

“I know.” I clench my jaw and keep my eyes on Alek.

“He was watching us last night, too.” Logan joins us.