Absolution Savage Duet Part Two: Russo Saga Part Five

by Nicolina Martin

“What about this ass?” asks Francesco.

  Salvatore looks the man over, not hiding his disgust. “Let him hang. Help yourself to whatever the house offers, espresso, Grappa, there are nice meals in the fridge, leftovers from last night.”

  As we leave the little room, Rusty starts screaming again, pleading, crying. Francesco picks up the rag and shoves it back into Rusty’s mouth before he follows us out into the restaurant, letting the heavy metal door to the cold storage slam closed.

  We move fast through the city, split up in two large black SUVs.

  “Christiano,” says Salvatore, making me twitch out of the grueling darkness that threatens to swallow me. “Call in Simon and his guys, we need five of them. Tell them to meet us one block south of this address.” He sticks a note in my hand.

  “This is where they’re keeping her?” I thumb up Simon’s number in my contact list and put the phone to my ear.

  “Supposedly,” says my uncle, his voice grave. “It matches one of the addresses the cops gave us. Rusty’s in for a world of pain if he’s lied, and he knows it.”

  Simon answers promptly and I relay the information, telling him to drop everything he’s doing. Simon and his men are bouncers at our illegal gambling clubs. Many of them veterans, and former mercenaries. They know exactly what they’re doing. With their work hours they sleep during the day and work at night. It’s late afternoon and they should be free to mobilize within minutes.

  “They’ll be there,” I tell Salvatore as I disconnect. He doesn’t answer, just nods, his expression grim. I know he has two concerns. Cecilia’s well-being, and the fact that he was betrayed. The latter led to the first, so I’m fully and completely with him.

  We pull up in an alley a block from the office building where Cecilia is being held. The other car comes to a halt behind us a moment later. Ivan jumps out and opens the back door, unzipping two large bags.

  “Help yourselves,” he says and gestures to the assortment of weapons. We’re ready for war. We always are. It’s part of our lives, ingrained in our genes.

  We gear up. Adrian and Ivan leave to scope out the premises. Thirty agonizing minutes later the two men return at the same time as two more SUVs arrive, approaching fast and coming to an abrupt halt right behind our vehicles. Five black-clad giants pour out, already fully equipped. Simon, whom I’ve worked with on a number of occasions nods at me as he walks up to Salvatore.

  “Three exits, a six-floor building, signs of activity on the first and the fourth floor, a guard visible by one of the side doors.” Ivan hands out earbuds and radio equipment as he relays what they’ve seen.

  I assemble my gear as I listen to Salvatore explaining the situation to Simon and his men, emphasizing that there’s a child in there who can in no circumstances be harmed. My stomach churns and the feeling of urgency intensifies.

  “Boss.” Johnny comes around one of the vehicles, a phone in his hand. “You wanna hear this.”

  Salvatore grabs the phone and puts it to his ear, his features darkening as he listens. He hands the phone back with a slight tremble to his hand. “There’s been a second demand. The price has gone up and in an hour a body part will be delivered if we don’t pay up according to instructions.”

  Nausea shoots through me. “Let’s move. Save fucking no one,” I growl.

  We move through the shadows, splitting up in three groups, one for each entrance. Outside ours stands a man. None of us cares who he is, if he’s just an innocent bystander, or if he’s with Richter. With the silencer there’s a dulled popping sound, and with a clean headshot he goes down. One of Simon’s men darts forward, crouching below a window and checks his vitals before he nods for us to come. Salvatore gestures for Adrian to stay behind and take out anyone who exits.

  My heart rate increases as we move inside, through a semi-dark corridor with a dirty concrete floor. A shadow next to me makes me spin around and bury my knife in the throat of another man. He falls with nothing but a quiet gurgle and a slight rattle of his weapon as it hits the hard surface.

  The radio comes to life with a slight crackle. “Main entrance clear,” says a low voice in my ear.

  “Two down left rear,” I whisper back.

  “Rusty said he thought seven men,” mouths Salvatore. I nod, as does Ivan.

  As we move forward, we find no one else on the lower floor. Reuniting with the two other groups we advance up the only stairwell while one man stays behind guarding the elevator in the entrance. We’ve also put one on the lookout on the rear right exit.

  The remaining seven of us sneak through the building, dividing and reuniting, floor by floor, room by room. On the fourth floor there are voices from behind a closed door. Someone sounds agitated, someone else seems to be calming the first one down. I hope to fuck one of these people are Richter, but I know the chances are slim. He’s probably not even in town.

  “Check the rest of the building,” whispers Simon. “The girl might be held somewhere else. If we find her first, it would make things easier.” He gestures to three of his guys as well as Johnny and Ivan to move on.

  I grab Ivan’s arm. “You stay. I go.”

  Ivan glances at Salvatore who nods and waves for us to keep moving.

  My heart slams in my chest as the voices of the kidnappers fade. Cecilia is here somewhere. I feel it with my whole being. It’s been four hours since Kerry’s frantic call. Four hours since our world was torn apart yet again. It’s my choices that got us here. My way of life is what keeps circling us back to pain and devastation.

  Fifth floor is empty. Sixth floor is the last one and we split up in two different directions. Around the corner stands a man, the smell of cigarette smoke heavy in the narrow space. I shoot, but so does he as he throws himself to the side, crying out as he’s hit in the thigh. I shoot again, and so does Johnny, this time hitting home in the middle of his chest. Our weapons are silenced. His wasn’t. Two floors down all hell breaks loose, screams, shots, loud slams, more shots. I quickly feel along my body to check I wasn’t hit. I’m so stoked on adrenaline I doubt I’d feel a bullet. I glance at Johnny who does a thumbs up, then I stare at the door that was guarded. I don’t do prayers, I don’t do religion, but for the second time in my life I turn to the God of my childhood, asking not for me, but for an innocent little girl, soon to be two years old.

  Please God, let her be in there, please God, let her be unharmed.

  Johnny tries the handle and the door opens with a squeak. We can’t know for sure no one else is in there and throw it open as we rush to either side of the door opening, our weapons ready.

  Not a sound is heard from within the room and I take the chance, taking a quick peek around the doorframe.

  On a naked striped mattress in the far corner, under a dirty window, lies a sleeping little dark-haired girl, clutching a stuffed animal. I rush forward and crouch next to her. Her cheeks are covered in dried tears but she’s intact and breathing calmly. I lay a hand on her back, shaking with relief.

  “Fucking hell,” whispers Johnny, his voice awed.

  I glance up at him. “Go make sure it’s safe to bring her down.”

  He nods and disappears.

  I inhale. Exhale. Listen to the soft whispers of my little girl breathing. My eyes water as tension slowly leaves me. I hadn’t acknowledged how afraid I really was, but now it overwhelms me. I never knew how deep love for another human being can run, but I love this little lady, and I love her mother. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure they’re happy and safe.

  I jerk when the radio cracks to life in my ear.

  “It’s all right to come down,” says Salvatore. “There’s no one left.”

  “Okay. Be right with you.” I shake Cecilia slightly, trying to wake her, but she keeps sleeping.

  “Is the little one all right?” asks Salvatore.

  Horror rises in me as I shake her again and then lift her limp little body. Clutching her close, I start down the corridor, down the stairs.

 
“On my way,” I grit out, my throat tightening. Fuck! “I think they drugged her, Luci.”

  Salvatore doesn’t have time to respond before I’m by his side. He pushes Cecilia’s hair off her face and regards her, then he hauls up his phone. “I’m calling the doc. Let’s move.”

  In the car, as Ivan drives us to the hospital where a crew of medical staff will be meeting us, Simon leans over Cecilia, checking her pulse, lifting her eyelids.

  “She’ll be fine. They’ve probably given her a benzo. She’s got good vitals.”

  “How do you know?” I growl, fear having seized all my senses.

  “I’m a trained medic, military. It’s cool. You should call her mother.”

  I exhale raggedly and haul up my phone.

  “Yes?” Kerry sounds out of breath, her voice barely recognizable.

  “Cecilia is fine. I’ve got her.”

  The wordless wail on the other hand makes me jerk the phone away from my ear and everyone in the car turns to look at me.

  “Ker?”

  “Yes,” she whimpers, “is she with you?”

  “She is. She’s safe. We’re passing the hospital for a check-up, but we’ll be home soon.”

  “Which hospital? I’m coming.”

  No, she’s not. I’m not letting her see Cecilia in this state.

  “Stay with Carmen. We’ll be home before you know it.”

  I disconnect.

  A moan makes me look down. Cecilia’s long dark eyelashes flutter and then she opens her eyes. She’s drowsy, but she’s awake! I give Simon a grateful look, appreciating his earlier words.

  “Kis?” she whispers and frowns.

  I hug her, careful not to squeeze the little body too hard. “Daddy’s here, honey,” I mumble as I bury my face in her dark locks.

  Salvatore spins around from his seat in the front. “She’s awake?”

  I nod and can’t help the probably goofy smile that spreads over my face as Cecilia reaches for the scraggy stubble on my chin. My phone keeps buzzing, and the voice messages and texts keep coming in. All from a frantic Kerry. I text her back that she needs to calm down, because it’s all good, then I turn off the phone. Maybe a bit harsh, but I’ve told Kerry what she needs to know and she has Carmen by her side. Right now I want to focus on our daughter.

  The visit to the hospital is quick. Cecilia’s vitals are good, just as Simon said. I’m gonna talk to Salvatore about getting that man a promotion, because he fucking saved my sanity back there, in the car.

  As we drive up to Carmen and Lucas’ house, I tap Salvatore on the shoulder.

  “We’re not done.”

  He turns and nods, a grim expression on his face. “I’m gonna wipe out Richter’s whole organization. Down to every last man.”

  “My guess is Richter isn’t in town.”

  “We’ll have to make do with two traitors today. Rusty and that other piece of shit, Evan.”

  “I’ll rip Kerry’s ex-husband apart with my own fucking hands,” I growl.

  “I’ll let you have him.”

  The car comes to a stop. The front door to the house slams open and Kerry comes rushing out, barefoot, her face white. I climb out to meet her, Cecilia safe in my arms. I want to hug her forever and never let go, but we have things to do, and she and her mother need each other.

  There’s always a war, always a new disaster, blood, damage, pain.

  Such is my life.

  Chapter 23

  Kerry

  Christian, tall, dark and with a frightening look of held-back rage and determination on his face, carrying a little girl dressed in a yellow dress, white socks, and a white cardigan. In the early evening, with the sun setting in the background, it’s a surreal vision. Cecilia’s brown locks bounce as she looks around her and then fixates her eyes on me.

  “Mama!” she raises her chubby little arms and in the next moment I clutch her to my chest. It’ll take a long time for the wounds from today to mend, the hole it ripped in me too deep, but right now everything is perfect. I pat her down, lift her cardigan, frantic to see that she’s okay.

  “She’s fine, Kerry.” Christian’s voice is calm, and it makes my racing heart slow a little.

  I look up at him. He’s standing so close I can smell him, almost feel his body heat. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  He moves in and lays his strong arms around us, a promise of protection, of never letting go. “Always,” he chokes out.

  “Christiano.” Salvatore’s voice makes us both jerk. “We’ve got work to do.”

  “Be right with you,” says Christian, then he turns back to me, dropping his arms. “Kerry. Evan, is it Evan Jackson?”

  My lips are numb as I answer, and it feels as if all blood drains from my face. “Evan Thomas Linden.” At the look of surprise on his face, I add, “I changed back to my maiden name.”

  Christian nods, his face grim.

  “Christian!” I gasp, “Don’t hurt him!”

  “What?”

  “Let me take her, Kerry.” Carmen’s voice to my right makes me spin around. She reaches for Cecilia.

  I stare at her, then back at Christian. “No.” I don’t know who I’m answering.

  “Kerry!”

  Both speak at the same time, and it’s just too much, it feels as if my brain is going to explode. I let Carmen take Cecilia and rush toward Christian, grabbing his shirt.

  “Don’t kill him!”

  “You don’t get to make that decision,” he growls, his nostrils flaring as he looks down on me, his eyes are hard and cold.

  I let him go as if I had burned myself, tightening my hands into fists. “Please! He was…” My voice breaks. “He doesn’t deserve—”

  “He deserves pain and fucking death! Look at what he did! He did that, Kerry! He put you through that!”

  “You said you’d changed,” I whisper, unable to hold back the tears, “but you’re just the same. Always.”

  My legs are heavy as lead as I make my way back to the front porch of Carmen’s beautiful house. Behind her stands her husband Lucas with three little kids clutching his legs, staring wide-eyed at the scene on their front yard.

  “Kerry!” Christian’s voice is commanding and pleading at the same time.

  I don’t turn. Carmen hands me Cecilia again. Lucas and the little ones make way as I walk inside.

  “Mama,” says Cecilia and I bury my nose in her nape. “Everything’s all right now, baby. The bad men are gone.”

  The door falls closed behind us, and for a moment everything is silent, then one of Carmen and Lucas’ kids comes running. “I’m Benjamin,” says the little three-year-old.

  Cecilia’s head snaps around, her mouth falling open as she takes in all the people. She reaches for Benjamin who takes her hand.

  “Wanna see my Legos?” he asks.

  “Mama,” says Cecilia, “I have Lego.”

  I smile through the tears. “Yes, you do. Do you want to see what the boy has?”

  Cecilia nods and squirms to get down. She looks tired, but she trots after Benjamin, and Carmen and I follow. I am not letting her out of my sight again.

  “It’ll be all right,” says Carmen and lays a hand on my arm as we settle on the couch next to the playing children. “Children have an incredible ability to compartmentalize, and rationalize. She’ll heal, probably faster than you. You should let her take the lead.”

  I wipe tears off my cheeks. “No, it won’t,” I say dully. “Nothing will ever be all right. There’s always going to be something new. A new disaster. I can’t live like this. What if this happens again? What if someone else wants to hurt her?”

  “Kerry.” Carmen’s voice is sharp. “Don’t bury yourself in ‘what ifs’. Live your life, savor what’s given to you and don’t mourn what you don’t have. You have something beautiful,” she nods toward Cecilia, “there, and you have a man who will quite literally kill to keep you safe.”

  I flinch.

  “That’s all he is,” I whi
sper. “A killer.”

  “No, that’s not all he is, and you know it. Stop it now. Take your girl, and go rest. I’ll show you to a room.”

  I glance down at Cecilia, who is leaning against my legs, her little body warm and her moves sluggish. “Come baby.” I pull her up in my lap and then rise to follow Carmen through the house.

  We’re shown to a large room with a king-sized bed, neatly made.

  “Go rest, Kerry. Don’t think too much. It’s not good for you. Sometimes you have to play the cards you’re given.” She begins to pull the door shut behind her.

  “Carmen,” I blurt out. “Thank you!”

  She smiles beautifully, displaying an even row of white teeth, her dark eyes flashing.

  Cecilia sleeps. I pull the comforter over the both of us and hug her tight to me, my mind spinning with feelings and images. I’m too tired for words to form.

  I fall asleep with one vision burned into my retinae. A wild-looking Christian, carrying our child, coming toward me, beautiful, lethal. Mine.

  Christian

  We reunite with Ivan, Johnny, and Adrian in Salvatore’s office.

  “Linden,” I say. “Evan Thomas.”

  Johnny nods and taps on the laptop that’s standing with its back to me on the desk. Lots, and lots of shady business has taken place in here, lots of decisions that have destroyed people, and even empires, decisions that have made the Russo clan climb to the top.

  My uncle is an evil genius, as is his sister Bianca, the woman who birthed me.

  We have everything, and still one single weasel of a man came so close to destroying us today. My lips curl in fury as I think of Kerry’s fucking ex-husband.

  “Christiano, are you all right?” Salvatore lays a hand on my shoulder in a rare display of something akin to affection. The only time Salvatore seems to touch someone is when he fucks them or when he beats them.

  I pull myself out of my reverie. “Yeah,” I grit out. “Let’s go do this.”

  Salvatore pats my back. “Atta boy. We’ll pass The Milane, you and I, while our boys here track down Linden.”