by Soraya Naomi
I miss the way she says my name.
When Christmas Eve arrives, I miss Cam most. I’m beside her bed in her hospital room that’s decorated with a Christmas tree, sitting in my usual chair, pining for her, loathing how I sense her slipping further and further away and taking all my faith of recovery with her. They say nothing aches more than the death of a loved one, but that’s a lie. There’s a place between life and death where Cam is now, and in that place where misery rules supreme, I try to survive. While she’s there, I can’t grieve, because grieving means accepting and letting go. But this is ten times worse than grief. This is still having that loved ones’ shell with you, but not their spirit, so moving on is impossible because you don’t want to betray them.
“You need to give me a sign, sweetheart. I miss you so much. I’m trying so hard to hold on to you, but you need to give me something, anything. I’m losing hope, and I hate it,” I mumble against her cheek with a tremble in my tone.
Right then, a drop of moisture trickles down the tip of my nose, and I rear back, observing a lone tear seeping from the corner of Cam’s eye.
“Cam...?” I reach out and trace the path of her tear with my thumb. “Can you hear me?” In an instant, I feel triumphant, clasping her hand while the urge to cry and laugh collide. “Sweetheart, you’re crying. I can see it!”
The nurse disturbs my first moment of happiness in the last two months.
“She cried,” I exclaim, almost disbelieving it myself, yet finally, a ray of light cracks through the darkness. “She heard me!”
“That’s entirely possible, sir. But it could also be an automatic reaction of her body.”
I’m tempted to say fuck off and let me believe in my truth, which is that she can hear me.
Stroking her hair, I implore, “Cam, come back to me. We’re going to have a baby...” And I press my lips to her forehead. “I can’t breathe without you, my love. Every day scares me more.”
That moment of joy is so fleeting though, and the subsequent silence deafens my hope with a vengeance. Fortunately, a visitor interrupts my dejected state before I drown in my sorrow.
Heels click down the hall, and Fallon darkens the doorway, holding up a brown bag dangling from her hand. “I come bearing food.”
“Thanks. I’m starving,” I reply as she hands me the bag and removes her coat, draping it over the chair on the opposite side of the bed.
“How is she?” Fallon asks me while staring at Cam.
The rich aroma of the tomato sauce in the lasagna wafts through the air as I open the container and take out the fork. Even though I’m hungry and this is a dish from Francitalia – one of the best places in town to eat Italian – the food tastes different nowadays, so I shove the fork back into the container after only two bites.
“What’s wrong?” Fallon questions. “You seem more sad than usual. Talk to me. You need to talk to someone besides Cam, Adriano. We’re all here for you.”
I laze back against the chair and rest my ankle over my knee, raking my hair back angrily, and all the grievances pour out, “I can’t even enjoy my food. I’m alive, but I don’t exist without her. My happiness is intricately tied to Cam’s wellbeing. This is why I was always so overprotective of her! Because I knew damn well she would be a target; I’ve seen how that went with you. In this business, everyone you love is a target, and it’s a well-known secret that the boss of this Syndicate is obsessed with his Capo. Sooner or later, this would’ve happened. I fought so hard to keep her safe, and for what? It’s so fucking difficult to keep believing in a positive outcome when every day, I live in this fucking silence.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her and our baby. God, I-I just miss her.”
Fallon plants her hands on her hips, startling me with her heated retort, “Stop it! You’ve held on for so long. I see how everyone is losing hope: James, Alessa, and Luca. They all continue with their lives and don’t believe she’s in there anymore. But you and I do. Don’t give up on her.”
“I’m trying not to,” I defend. “It’s just wearing me out.”
She bites the inside of her cheek. “Maybe we should try a new tactic?”
“Like what?”
She looks me straight in the eye. “Like the tough approach.” And then she turns to Cam and yells with excessive hand gestures, “Wake the fuck up, Cam! Wake up! Wake up!” Fallon’s bent over Cam, watching her with an amusingly hopeful gleam in her eyes.
I break out in a laugh from seeing Fallon trying her tough approach on Cam, and it’s a completely foreign sound to me.
Fallon’s gaze shifts to me, and the corner of her lips tilt up.
“I can’t even remember the last time I laughed,” I state.
“Yeah, I thought you lost the ability,” she teases and plops down into the chair. “So, that didn’t work.”
“Apparently. Got any more bright ideas?” I mock, and she makes a face.
“I do, actually,” she replies proudly and delves into her purse, presenting a burgundy paperback with a castle on the cover. Then she speaks to Cam, “We’re kind of tired of waiting for you to come back to us, so I’m going to read this book to you because it’s awesome. And you’re going to love it.” Fallon eyes her own book with comical admiration. “And if you don’t like it, then you’ll just have to wake up and tell me to shut up, because this series consists of a lot of novels.” And she leans back. “See, we fight the silence and read to her.”
“Ah, Fallon’s answer to everything: reading,” I say playfully.
“I’m telling you, this will bring her back.” She opens the book theatrically.
My phone buzzes on the bed, and Wade flashes across the screen. “Wade?”
“I have Medlov in my vision,” he explains immediately.
I jump to my feet. “Where?”
“An escort is moving him out of the Loop. A soldier saw them exiting the police precinct,” he answers.
“Who’s protecting him?”
“I’m not sure yet, but it would have to be someone pretty powerful,” Wade replies.
Not wanting to leave Cam alone on Christmas Eve, I ask Fallon, “Are you staying?”
“Yes. I can stay as long as you need me to.”
“I’ll be back later. I have to go to work.”
“No problem. I’ll stay until you return,” she offers.
“Perfect.” I run out, demanding of Wade, “Where are you?”
“I just passed Security Simplicity. They’re going toward the Chicago River. I have to hurry before they drive up the interstate.”
I’m stomping down the hallway toward the elevator and run into Luca, so I grab his arm and tug him with me. “We have a lead on Medlov.”
Luca spins around and trails me.
“Wade, I’ll call you from my car.” I hang up and press the elevator button impatiently.
“Where are we going?” Luca asks.
“To run Medlov off the road,” I say as the doors glide open.
For two months, my need for vengeance has festered inside me. It’s time I keep my promise and start making people pay for what happened to Cam.
***
In my car, Luca contacts Wade as I brake at an intersection. It’s nighttime on Christmas Eve. There’s barely any traffic. Thankfully, it hasn’t really started snowing this winter, so the roads aren’t slippery yet.
“Are you coming from the west or the south?” Luca asks him while I scan the other vehicles lined up at a red light, attempting to spot Wade’s white car or the black SUV Medlov’s in.
“There he is.” I extend my arm to the right side where Wade is the fourth vehicle in line and going straight ahead, so I signal to the left to follow him.
“Medlov’s in the first car at the light,” Luca informs as I step on the gas. “And according to Wade, there are two other black SUVs guarding him.”
“Those are not FBI or CIA vehicles. Who the fuck is guarding him? The Secret Service?”
; While I veer left, Luca puts Wade on speaker.
“I’m going to block one car, and Capo John is targeting the second car, which is escorting Medlov,” Wade explains.
“Okay, I’m behind you,” I reply.
“I see you,” Wade says. “Take the left lane now. John is going to hit Medlov’s car.”
I switch lanes just as I hear a loud crash, tires screeching, and honking horns.
“Medlov is turning left.” Luca screws a silencer onto his Smith & Wesson as I speed through a red light to catch up with Medlov, who’s traveling away from the Loop.
I shadow the black SUV with tinted windows. My car goes much faster than his vehicle, and as I accelerate, I gain on him, switching lanes and riding parallel to the SUV.
“Hit it,” Luca instructs with a grin before he pushes the button so that the window slides down, letting the cold wind rush inside.
I yank the steering wheel to my right and graze the other car.
“There are three men in there.” Luca cocks his weapon.
Unexpectedly, the SUV takes a sharp right and turns onto one of the side streets.
“Go get him!” Luca yells.
I hit the brakes so that the car screeches to a halt, check the rearview mirror, and shift into reverse. Placing my hand on Luca’s headrest, I look back over my shoulder and speed backward while avoiding traffic. Then I brake, face forward again while jamming the gearshift into drive, and with one palm on the wheel, quickly take a right turn and race to the end of the street where the SUV is disappearing around the corner between skyscrapers.
Luckily, I have a fast car, and within minutes, I’m on the SUV’s tail.
“Hold on,” I say to Luca as I clench my jaw and step on the gas, hitting the rear of the SUV and forcing the vehicle toward the curb.
Luca and I are hurled forward against our seatbelts as the SUV crashes into a dumpster, and we bump to a halt. The smell of burnt rubber permeates the air as smoke drifts around us.
Without thinking, I grab my gun and bolt out of my car. But when the driver of the SUV aims his weapon at me through his window, I slide over the hood of my car to the other side, falling onto the ground and ducking as Luca shoots through my front and the SUV’s rear windows, broken glass flying everywhere, and hits the male in the passenger seat in the back of the head.
Now, I realize that I don’t have my regular gun with the silencer built in and that both ends of the street are open.
Luca, who’s gotten out of the car, hurriedly pitches a silencer to me, and I catch it in the air and attach it to my piece. Then I nod to Luca, and he aims his gun at the driver’s seat of the SUV while I slither forward alongside the passenger side and rear up to easily kill the driver, who’s ducked down in his seat. Without hesitation, I turn my head toward Medlov as he’s gliding across to the other side of the back seat, trying to flee. I open the door, and Luca appears on the other side, causing Medlov to scramble to the middle of the back seat. My vengeance can be appeased at last. However, at that moment, two cars enter the street, and Luca aims at their tires as they come to a stop and he starts shooting.
“Hello, Medlov. I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” I pull him out of the car forcefully and tug him forward while Luca keeps releasing bullets, but the other cars are standing still and, strangely, no one gets out of either of them.
Medlov finds his footing and struggles against me, so I snarl, “You better move.”
“Fuck you. You’ll never get me out of here.”
I grab his hair, pop open the trunk, and effortlessly throw him inside. “Oh, I will. I will risk everything because, Ukrainian, you need to pay.” I jam my gun into the back of his head before I slam the trunk closed and rush back into my car.
Luca drops into his seat too, and I race out of there, through the quiet streets toward Club 7.
***
Wade and Luca stand off to the side as I toss Medlov into the cell on the underground floor and he falls onto his knees and palms.
“Did you contain the situation, Wade?” I ask while studying Medlov’s demeanor with interest.
Wade stashes his gun in his charcoal jacket. “Yes, the media isn’t involved. A Capo went to the street you took Medlov from and the SUV was already gone – the area had been cleaned as if nothing happened. No broken glass. Only tire tracks from several cars.”
“Someone besides us is going to a lot of trouble to get to Medlov without anyone finding out,” Luca deliberates out loud.
“And they clearly saw us,” I add, unease setting in, but having Medlov in my sights makes my necessity for retaliation explode.
Bending down, I grab my knife from my ankle holster. “What the fuck was your plan with Cam?”
A smirk flits across his face as he rises. “I’ll never tell. Do what you want. The plan is already in motion. You are done.”
“Am I? What about the FBI agent that was found on your estate?” I retort.
His grin fades just as quickly as it appeared.
“Oh, you don’t know. Yeah, no one is protecting you. But everyone wants you because you killed a federal agent,” I bluff, taking one step forward, and he takes one back in reaction.
“You’re lying. Who the fuck do you think those men were? They’ll be here within five minutes to get me,” he counters unconvincingly.
“No, they won’t. No one is stupid enough to come in here except you,” I insult.
Apprehension breaks through his cool façade, and as he glances at Luca and Wade, he realizes this is his one chance to escape; he’s not cuffed and the door is open.
“Fight me, asshole,” I hiss, flashing my knife.
As he barrels toward me, I sidestep him and grab his shirt, throwing him against the wall. He recovers quickly but fails to lunge up as I slice my knife along his cheek.
“I will slit your throat and drink your blood, motherfucker! Get the fuck up,” I bark at him, handing the knife over to Luca.
Medlov simply sneers at me as he plants his palms on the ground, attempting to push up, but I kick his jaw, sending him sprawling backward. Then I hunch down and seize his collar with one hand while jamming my fist into his face. Fury bursts out. Letting his body collapse to the ground, I kick him ferociously. Bones crack, and he squeals in pain.
“I will not allow you to die. I need you to suffer just like she is suffering. Just like I am suffering without Cam because of you!” All-consuming rage blinds me as Luca pulls me back.
“Adriano,” Luca interrupts.
“Do not interfere,” I warn Luca and wrench free.
Swiping my hand over my mouth, I swoop low and hurl Medlov onto the bed now that I’ve punched that conceited smirk from his fucking face.
But he grumbles, “You can’t stop me from talking. There’s always a plan B. And...y-you won’t kill me...”
When Medlov attempts to sit up, Luca restrains him by capturing both his wrists at his back.
“You just don’t know when to shut the fuck up.” I calmly open the drawer of a dresser to my left and take out an iron tongue tearer, which is an oversized pair of scissors that can cut someone’s tongue.
“See, the problem is that you don’t have a wife I can kill – that would make us even in my opinion. So my only other option is indeed death. Or, a lifelong period of torture, torture, and more torture, which I think is a befitting punishment for you.” I dig my fingers into his cheeks as he protests and shove his mouth open with the device while Luca contains him. “Wade, hold his fucking mouth open.”
Wade rests one knee on the bed and grips his chin, forcing his mouth open.
“You brought me to the brink of insanity, and I went over the edge two months ago. And now, you want to talk to the police, FBI, or CIA and ruin me?” I place the iron scissors around his tongue and tighten the screw until the rough grippers latch on to it.
Medlov’s teary eyes widen so that the whites are entirely visible.
I savagely maintain a firm hold on the screw and cont
inue to tighten it on my victim’s tongue. I rotate it while gritting my teeth, roughly tearing his tongue out as his piercing howls echo off the walls in an earsplitting tone.
“Jesus Christ,’ Wade mumbles, but I disregard him.
“How are you going to talk without your tongue, Medlov?” I yank his head back by his hair, causing him more pain, and then I throw the device with his tongue on the floor. “Perhaps I should cut off your hands as well?”
Luca slams one of Medlov’s wrists onto the bed as his horrified face satisfies me. Crimson drips down his chin as he sobs pitifully.
Luca then takes a knife and smiles cruelly at Medlov. “We warned you not to anger us.” And he slices the blade across Medlov’s wrist, not deep, but enough to leave a burning trail on his skin, which it clearly does, because he spits blood and starts to lose consciousness.
I shake his head forcefully, and his eyes open. “Stay awake. You’re going to feel pain every second for the rest of your life. I’m not going to cut off your hands.” I bend down to his ear. “Because you’ll need them to jerk off men in prison every night. Death is too easy for you. That won’t satisfy me. I want you to live in hell for the rest of your life because I have to live in this hell! You’ll be raped and tortured, but kept alive, after your conviction. And trust me, you will get convicted. My power extends to levels you don’t even know about.”
“Adriano, Luca,” Wade interferes. “He’s losing consciousness. If you want him to survive, then we need to tend to his wounds.”
“Fine.” I release his head, and it slouches forward. “Give him antibiotics. Set his bones. But make it painful and keep the fucker alive.” I motion Wade and Luca over to discuss our plan of action. “We need to find out who cleaned up the crime scene. It’s not Chicago P.D. Maybe it’s CIA, Wade?”
“It does look like our ammo, but why does the CIA want him?” Wade reflects. “Only the FBI and Chicago P.D. have been involved in any investigation regarding his empire.”
“Someone’s even more interested in Medlov than we are. Wade, what do you need to find out whom that is?”
“I need Henry. Only a top notch hacker has a chance of breaking into the CIA system. But, if this is some kind of secret mission, there won’t be any documentation. I’m going into the CIA office later. I’ll see if I can pry.”
