Page 39 of Toxic Devotion

He took the red napkin Rome handed him and slowly dried off his hands, gazing out over the water though he didn’t see much of anything. Rome left him alone, heading back inside to clean up the mess. There wasn’t much left of Vetrov so it wouldn’t be hard to get rid of. There was a lot of blood, though.

He could hear the man’s screams in his head, and he knew he should’ve been horrified or at the very least have enjoyed it. All he felt was a whole lot of nothing. Emptiness was all there was inside him. Nothing he did would bring his sister back. Nothing would give Dante more time with his mother. He would never know her laugh. He would never find her snooping annoying. He would never get to experience her fawning over him when he brought someone home for the first time.

When he heard footsteps on the gravel, he expected Rome, but it wasn’t him. He knew exactly who it was without looking up.

“I’m sorry.”

The words were barely audible, and they did nothing. They changed nothing.

“She didn’t tell me the whole story. If she had…” Neil trailed off, anguish lacing his words.

“So, you’re blaming her now?”

He slowly raised his gaze, certain the ire showing in his eyes would tell the man exactly what he thought of him.

Neil snapped his mouth shut, pain flaring in his eyes.

“Why are you here?” Marco asked, looking back out over the water.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay?” he drawled, anger sparking like a flame to fuel. He turned to face Neil. “How could I ever be okay? She’s gone.”

His voice broke and he had to fight back tears. He had to fight back a scream.

Neil flinched and took a step back.

“I’m sorry,” Neil whispered.

Marco shook his head and wasn’t surprised when that well-crafted mask fell into place on Neil’s face and when he told the man to leave, he turned and walked away.

He swayed on his feet, tears streaming down his cheeks as his knees hit the ground. Nothing would ever be the same. He’d lost two people he loved. One because of the other. And it hurt. It hurt so fucking much that he wanted to rip out his heart just to make it stop. But it wouldn’t stop. The pain would never go away. No matter how many people he killed. No matter how much he punished the men responsible for his baby sister’s death. He was stuck with this pain alone and he wasn’t sure how he was going to survive it.

Chapter Fourteen

Niel

HE TOOK the exit off the freeway into Baltimore with a clenched jaw and a tight grip on the steering wheel. The last thing he wanted was to be in Baltimore, but his damn operative hadn’t given him much of a choice. Not with the fuckup he’d just concocted.

While he’d kept an eye on Marco and Dante over the past year, he’d kept his distance from Marco because he knew he was the last person the man wanted to see. He couldn’t stay away, though. They were his family. The only one he’d ever really had. Losing them was one thing. Never seeing them again? He couldn’t do that.

Marco was slipping. His power over the city was waning and it was worrying him. If any of those bastards smelled weakness from Marco they might pounce, and he wasn’t so sure Marco would fight back.

He did what he could to protect Marco, and he knew Rome did as well, but Marco wasn’t letting either of them in. He’d closed himself off and it killed him. He hated that he was the cause of all Marco’s pain and suffering. If he could’ve switched places with Alicia he would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Marco could clearly survive without him but without Alicia? Everything was falling apart.

He tried to get his head on straight as he parked his car and headed toward the apartment building his operative was in. Theman was as levelheaded as they came but he understood why that could change. He understood it better than most.

He knocked on the door and stepped back, unsurprised when his operative opened the door with his gun at the ready. The man stared at Neil for a moment then blew out a breath and pulled the door all the way open to let him in.

Neil walked through the door, eyes running over the living room he stepped into. It was sparse and lifeless except for the blue quilt draped over the couch and the rainbow-colored mug left of the coffee table.

“We don’t have a meeting scheduled.”

Neil turned, gaze clashing with his operative’s. They both knew why he was there. The man’s jaw clenched tight, and he looked away, whether in shame or frustration, Neil didn’t know.

“I know about the boy.”

Mike’s shoulders shot up and when he turned to look at Neil, the apprehensive look on his face told Neil he was right to be worried.