Page 81 of Deceitful Oath
“How much farther?”
“About three miles,” Joe says, studying our surroundings. “But it’s down an old dirt road. No idea what the conditions are like these days.”
“And Enzo definitely saw him heading this way?” I ask again, nervously turning the car onto a dirt road that Joe points out. Dense forest surrounds us as we slowly climb the narrow path. Low branches scrape the sides of my SUV, but I don’t care.
I need to find Vince and kill him. Torture isn’t even a priority anymore. I want him dead.
“That’s what he said,” Rocco pipes up from the backseat.
We continue on silently, holding our breaths, anticipation building as the warehouse looms in front of us. It’s set in an overgrown clearing, surrounded by metal fencing. The original road was blockaded years ago so we’ve come from the back service road.
“It looks too quiet,” Joe says, his voice low and nervous. “Something’s not right.”
“That’s for sure,” I grumble, parking the car near a rusty gate. We file out, guns at the ready, and canvas the outside. The place looks untouched, like no one’s set foot here in years. There’s not even a single shoeprint in the dusty yard behind the building.
I pull out the ring of keys I found in my father’s office after he died and Rocco narrows down a few that might be the one. Joe tries each one unsuccessfully until the last one finally unlocks the metal door.
“No security?” I whisper.
“Look at this place,” Joe says, tossing me the ring of keys. “Don’t even think there’s running water up here anymore.”
The warehouse is in a state of half-decay from negligence. My father hasn’t used this property since before I was born and I barely even knew about its existence.
“Well, let’s check it out,” I say, shaking my head.Another damn dead-end lead.“Stay vigilant, regardless of how it looks from the outside.”
My uncles nod, and we file into the building. Dust mites float in the air as the sun shines through the half-collapsed roof. Old machinery litters the place, collecting dust and growing rust. Old documents, snack wrappers, and random junk cover the floor, undisturbed.
I fire off a warning shot, and we wait, scanning the giant industrial space. No one fires back. Silence blankets the room.
“Fuck this,” I growl, already striding toward the door. “A dead-end lead. Where the hell is this fucker?”
“He’s playing us,” Joe says, catching up to me. Rocco pulls the door shut, not bothering to lock it, and follows both of us to the vehicle.
“Let me drive,” Rocco volunteers, taking in my frustrated, hostile face. “You give Enzo a call and see if there’s been any new developments.”
I slide into the passenger’s seat and slam the door closed a little too hard. The sound reverberates through the clearing, sending a group of birds into the sky, wings furiously flapping. I jerk in shock, thinking it’s an attack, and have to force myself to calm down.
“Rafael,” Joe warns from behind me. “You’re no good to us this wound up. You need to relax. Think strategically. We don’t want you making any rash decisions or getting all keyed up.”
“He’s right,” Rocco confirms, steering us down the overgrown path back to the highway. I sigh, leaning my forehead against the glass. I know they’re right, but I’m sick of these games. All I want is to find Vince, put a bullet in his brain, and go home to Lux.
Lux. I wonder what she’s up to.
I pull out my phone to check for notifications, but the location is too remote for cell service. I tuck it into the center console, reminding myself to call Enzo once we’re out of the sticks. Joe and Rocco deliberate Vince’s moves and motives as I disassociate in the front seat.
I should be joining their conversation—leading it, more like—but I just can’t give a shit.
The mafia life was everything to me for a few years. I lived and breathed violence. I loved the thrill, the danger, and the power it came with but somewhere along the way, it lost its luster. That’s why I started playing these little games with my victims. It’s also why I pulled away and became more reclusive.
The Wolf,I laugh to myself.They all call me that without knowing why I’m so withdrawn. I’m just so fucking bored with all this.
Thinking about the past forces me to think about my future. I’m going to be a father. Do I want my child growing up in thisenvironment? What if my little guy wants to be a teacher? Or a dentist? Or something else mundane and normal?
I’ll have to be the one to force a gun in their hands and tell them to shoot? That doesn’t sit right with me. I don’t blame my parents for raising me in this world, but I want something more for my kid.I want them to have a choice.
Unfortunately, retiring as a mafia member isn’t an easy task. Few men have done it successfully, and they usually still keep a few fingers dipped into the pot, even if they’re not running the streets anymore. Could I do it?
Lux’s face pops into my brain. I imagine her beaming smile as she cradles our newborn. She sits in the grass under a large oak tree, a dog lounging at her feet.That’s the life she deserves. The life I need to figure out how to provide for her.