Avenge: #3 Romanian Mob Chronicles (15 page)

A
nton

T
he drive
to Lily’s was nerve-racking, more intense than anything I had ever experienced.

Christoph Junior had gone there to kill her.

Maybe he wanted to hurt me, was lashing out after his father’s death. Maybe he’d figured out who she was, wanted to finally see something through. I didn’t know the why, and it didn’t matter. All I knew for sure was that he
did
intend to kill her. I knew that as much as I knew that I loved her. And even now, there was no doubt that I loved her.

I hadn’t known it, not really, not when I had threatened to kill her, not even as she had shattered my heart with her betrayal. But knowing she was with Christoph Junior, knowing what he could do, had crystallized the truth of it.

I loved her. More than my clan, my family, far more than myself.

When I saw Christoph Junior’s car in front of her building, I felt it even more. And felt an urgency that made me move faster than I had ever thought possible.

But even as my rational mind processed what I saw around me, the familiar concrete steps, the third one with a deep crack, my heart raced, urged me to move faster. Faster.

I aimed my shoulder at the door, barreled toward it at full speed, the flimsy wood giving way under my force. But I wouldn’t have let anything stop me.

Christoph Junior’s back, suit jacket pulled tight across his shoulders, was the first thing I saw. I looked closer, mind trying to reject what my eyes showed. Lily under him, hands still on his wrists but her body limp.

“Christoph!”

He turned, looked at me, but kept his hands around her throat.

“I’m almost done—”

He didn’t have a chance to finish. I was on him before I had processed the thought, one hand jammed under his throat, the other on his elbow, pulling him with all my might. When Lily’s head bounced against the ground, I turned, giving Christoph Junior his chance.

He took it.

He pummeled me with all of his strength, pounding at the back of my head, kicking my ribs, doing everything he could think of to disable me.

I deflected the blows as best I could, but my main concern, my only concern, was Lily. We were far too close to her and it would be far too easy for one of Christoph Junior’s wild swings to hit her and not me. So I kept my body between them, protecting her as best I could.

Both Christoph Junior and I carried weapons, but I wouldn’t risk drawing the attention, and that he hadn’t pulled his own told me he felt the same. So we scuffled, me hunched in front of Lily, him coming at me with everything he had.

One particularly brutal kick to the face stunned me, and for a moment, I wondered if my jaw had been broken. I didn’t have long to worry over it, though, because Christoph Junior was back again. His stamina was no doubt owing to his increasingly hungry habit, the same habit that probably kept him from feeling the pain that I was attempting to dish out. I hit him hard, hard enough to stop him in his tracks, but he kept coming.

He lifted his leg again, and I saw my opportunity. As he struck out, about to attack, I shifted left and went for his opposite leg, aiming at his knee. When my shoulder contacted the joint, a loud, sickening
pop
filled Lily’s apartment, and Christoph Junior’s leg crumpled beneath him, twisting at an unnatural angle.

That pain got to him, and he fell, screaming at first until those screams diminished and became low, animal wails.

“Anton! What the fuck? You broke my fucking leg!”

As he rolled on Lily’s floor, he screamed at me, but I paid him no attention, and instead turned to her. I leaned over her, was relieved when I saw her chest rise and fall, but was angered beyond belief when I saw the fresh bruises on her neck, her skin dark, mottled, Christoph Junior’s fingerprints visible.

She moaned, tried to open swollen eyes, but I held her in place. “Be still. I’ll get you to the doctor.”

“Anton,” Christoph Junior said, voice thick with rage.

I gazed down at Lily and then turned, and came face to barrel with Christoph Junior’s gun. He’d dragged himself up, and now stood on his good leg, the other hanging at that grotesque angle.

“I was going to make you kill her,” Christoph Junior said, “but I don’t have time for that. You attacked me. Violated your honor. For that you have to be punished. A leader is to be respected. Father taught you that lesson. And I’ll remind you,” he said. “As soon as we finish this business.”

He lifted the gun, aimed it at Lily, who lay on the floor, unable to move away after what he had done to her.

I sprang at him and reached him before he pulled the trigger. I heard a sound from Lily but didn’t stop to look back at her. I would see to her after I finally finished this.

He was strong, stronger than usual, but I was driven by something more, and even on his best day, Christoph Junior was no match for me. I wrenched the gun from his hands and slammed the butt into his face, the spatter of blood from his newly broken nose arcing over my face and across the room, painting Lily’s tidy little rug dark red.

“You bastard! I’m going to cut off your balls and feed them to you before I kill you!”

“Christoph Junior, stop with the theatrics,” I said as calmly as I could.

“Theatrics! You attacked me!”

“Despite what you may think, I respected your role. Was happy to let you have it. But I won’t let you do this.”

Christoph Junior, hand covering his bloodied face, stared at me then with venom in his eyes. “Let me? So that’s what this is? You let me—you get to decide? You make the choices even though Father has never acknowledged you?”

He shook his head.

“It’s a different time now, Anton. My time. And you will die for what you just did.”

I could accept that. Had expected it. But I had one more question. “And Lily?”

“You should say your good-byes, Anton.”

I nodded.

Then lunged at Christoph Junior again. I reached him easily, his weakened state finally starting to take effect. I gripped his lapels and pulled him close to me, stared into his eyes, noticing how much like my own they were for the very first time.

I turned him, his back to my chest as he struggled to break my hold. That wouldn’t happen, and as I grabbed his chin with one hand and put the other at the crown of his head, I felt nothing but profound regret.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way, brother,” I said.

And then I twisted.

The
snap
reverberated through the room and then was gone in an instant, taking Christoph Junior’s life with it.

I released him, watched his limp body fall to the floor, his head now at a grotesque angle like his leg. I was sorry it had come to this, but deep down, I’d known it couldn’t have been avoided. Adela had tried to tell me so just minutes ago, but I’d ignored her.

Now, I’d committed one of the most grievous crimes a man could commit against his clan, one of the most grievous crimes a man could commit against his family.

All that was left was to face the consequences.

A
nton

I
heard Lily stir
, so I went over to her.

“Easy,” I said when she tried to sit up, and then I grasped her forearms.

When she winced, my rage at Christoph Junior spiked, but I bit it down, intent on focusing on her.

As gingerly as I could, I pressed her against me, lifted her, holding her as if she were precious and fragile. And she was. My heart outside of my body. Something I would have to learn to live without.

“Christoph…”

“Don’t worry about him,” I said firmly.

She started to shake her head, then winced.

“Easy,” I repeated.

I lifted her and carried her to her bedroom. “Stay here,” I said as I laid her down.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine,” she said, somehow managing a smile through the bruises that were popping up on her face at an alarming rate.

“I’ll be back.”

I left her then, went back to where Christoph Junior lay. I wasn’t happy, wasn’t scared, but more than anything, I was aware that I now confronted a terrible reality that was far more dangerous than Christoph Junior could have ever dreamed of.

I wouldn’t run from it. I had never run from anything. But I had to take care of Lily. I walked to where Christoph Junior lay and dug his cell phone out of his pocket.

Then I called the only person that might be able to see Lily out of this alive.

L
ily

My head swam, the motion only broken up by an occasional throb of pain.

The agony at my throat was consistent, at least, every breath I drew sending a little stab through my body, and the one tiny cough I had risked bending me over in pain.

I hadn’t seen what had happened, hadn’t had the strength to turn to it. But I hadn’t needed to. I’d heard their voices, heard the scuffle, and then, finally, that low, muffled crack of Christoph Junior’s neck breaking.

How many times had I imagined it? A Constantin dead. Stabbed. Shot. Drowned. Poisoned. Dead in any number of ways, a small scourge wiped off the face of the earth. And every time, I had expected relief, elation, joy at the thought of at least one of them no longer sharing the world with Braden, with anyone.

But there had been none of that, none of the joy I had wanted, the completion I had expected.

There had only been concern.

And not for myself.

I worried about him. Wondered what this meant, how he felt.

And I regretted what I had done, what I had caused him to do. Whatever Christoph Junior was, he had been Anton’s brother, and I knew he would carry that weight, carry the knowledge that he had killed his brother because of me with him for as long as he lived.

When I heard him enter, I forced myself to look up, ignored the pain that washed over me and forced myself to look at him. He looked almost serene, something that surprised me but, given what I knew of him, should not have. And then he lifted the corner of his mouth at me, the expression giving his face a lightness that was so incongruent to the situation.

I blinked, blinked again, and then the tears came, hot and fast. “I’m sorry, Anton,” I said around the tears, my vision blurring until he was nothing but a blob.

I closed my eyes, no longer able to look at him, unable to have him look at me.

I felt rather than saw his approach, and then felt his arms around me, holding me close to him, and for a moment, I let myself believe that he could protect me, keep me safe.

“Don’t be sorry, Lily,” he whispered, big hand warm against my back.

I didn’t say anything, couldn’t, so I stayed there, let him hold me.

Time passed, though I couldn’t say how long. But when I heard the apartment door open, felt Anton pull tight, his muscles bunching, I finally broke away.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Then, after he grazed his fingers down my cheek, he stood and left. I waited, heard low voices, and after a moment, I stood. Each step was agonizing, but I ignored the pain, moved closer, not willing to let him do this alone.

When I stepped out of the bedroom, I saw Anton and another man, well-dressed, seemingly unruffled by the corpse that lay on the living room floor. Anton shifted, and I realized it was to put himself between me and this visitor.

“Am I taking care of her too?”

“Yes. In a way. After you handle Christoph Junior, I need you to send her somewhere, a full reboot. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Not for me. But there will be an accounting for this,” he said, tilting his head toward Christoph Junior where he lay.

An accounting.

A bland phrase that would ordinarily bring to mind facts and figures, a cold evaluation of this or that. But in this moment, I didn’t think I had ever heard anything so ominous. Because this accounting would be for Anton’s life.

“There will be,” Anton finally said, his own voice bland, and even more proof that what I had suspected was right.

Anton turned, stared down at me. “Go with Priest, Lily. He’ll take care of you.”

“You trust him?” I asked, glancing at the other man quickly before I looked back to Anton.

“No, but he’ll take care of you,” he replied.

Anton’s words didn’t fill me with confidence, but I didn’t care about myself then, not if what I suspected was true. I’d studied exhaustively, learned as much as I could about Clan Constantin, the other clans. Most spoke of them only in hushed whispers, and to me, barely at all, but I knew how sacred they held their leaders, their code. By killing Christoph Junior, Anton had violated both. The consequences would be severe.

I kept my eyes locked on his. “And what will happen to you?” I asked, fearing the answer but fearing not hearing it even more.

“Whatever will happen,” he said as if that were an answer.

“We need to clean up now. There’s not much time,” the other man said.

“Is there transportation for her?” Anton asked.

“Car’s downstairs,” Priest said.

Anton nodded and then lifted me, cradling me as gingerly as he had before. He moved down the stairs, and I found myself wishing that this trip would last forever. It didn’t though, and soon, far too soon, we stood next to a car.

“Take care, Lily,” Anton said after I sat inside.

Then he slammed the car door.

A
nton

I
forced
myself to keep my eyes forward, to not watch the car as it rolled away.

It would only remind me that she was gone, and I didn’t want to think of her that way, didn’t want my last memory of her to be of her bruised face, of the tears that wet her cheeks.

No, as I approached my end, I wanted to remember our good times, those few precious moments we had shared, so sweet and so unexpected.

When I returned, Priest stood in a corner, whispering into his telephone.

“Very messy, Anton,” he said once he’d hung up. “Unlike you.”

“I had an off day,” I said.

“Something to do with her?”

“She’s not up for discussion, Priest,” I said.

He shrugged. “What do you want me to do with Christoph Junior? I can dispose of him.”

I shook my head. “His mother will want to bury him, and I won’t take that from her.”

“I’ll have him stored appropriately, then. And you, are you going to run?” he asked lightly, as if discussing the most mundane topic and not my fast-approaching demise.

“I don’t run, Priest. I’m going to deliver the news, then talk to the clan. What happens after that happens. But I don’t run.”

“Good luck,” he said, his expression softening ever so slightly into something that almost passed for sympathy.

I didn’t respond, my mind already moving ahead to yet another grim task.

A
nton

T
he house was quiet
, solemn when I reached it. And it was also filled to capacity, everyone having heard of Christoph Senior’s death.

The men nodded at me as I passed, but I kept my focus ahead, found Adela where I had left her.

I entered as quietly as I could, but she turned, lifted her eyes at me, and I watched as her face shattered.

“My son is gone, too,” she said, a statement and not a question.

“I’m sorry, Adela. It couldn’t be helped.”

“At least my husband didn’t live to see it. One son dead at the hand of another.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again, not sure what else to say.

“It is as it was always going to be. I had hoped…” She shook her head. “But I knew. Knew that one day this would happen. I had hoped Christoph could live, but it seems the better man won, Anton.”

I stayed silent, not sure of what to say, and knowing that Adela wouldn’t accept anything that she perceived as pity.

“Have you told the men?” she said.

“Not yet. But I will now.”

“You didn’t run? Not even knowing the consequence for raising your hand against your leader?”

“You’re the second person to ask me that question today,” I said.

“And what was your answer to the first?” she asked.

“I don’t run,” I said simply.

“Constantins never do,” she said, and then she collapsed against her chair, silent now as her thin body was racked by sobs.

Those sobs ended as quickly as they had begun, and after a breath, I wouldn’t have known she had cried unless I’d seen it myself.

What I did know, what I could see, was the rage that hummed around her like a tangible thing. She looked at me, eyes hard, glittering with the promise of retribution.

She stood and walked out of the room, taking any errant hope of survival I still had with her.

A
nton

I
stood
in front of the assembled men, watching them watch me. I had not contemplated my own death in a very long time, had accepted the eventuality of it, the expected gruesomeness, but now, I felt nothing.

Lily was safe, and that was all that mattered.

“Christoph is dead,” I said. And then, after a beat, I added, “Both of them.”

Silence reigned as I watched confusion and then realization cross the men’s faces.

“Are we at war?” Sandu asked.

The others nodded, faces set with readiness and desire to get revenge for their leader.

“If you’re at war, then it’s with me. Because I killed him,” I said.

In an instant, the tension in the room spiked, the men seeming to process the statement as a group.

“Anton, are you saying you killed Christoph Junior?” Sandu asked, the only one willing to speak what I knew all of the others were thinking.

I focused on him as he watched me through hooded eyes, his stance relaxed at the moment, though I knew that could change in the blink of an eye. There was no need, though. I had my fill of killing today.

Long seconds passed as he and the other men watched me, their eyes glittering with the hope that I would deny it, avoid them having to confront what my having done so would mean. They would have believed me, too. Even with Adela hovering outside, waiting to make sure I got what she no doubt saw as my just desserts. If I just said the word, they would have accepted it.

I wouldn’t lie.

I’d killed, done more unspeakable things than I could recall. But I would never be a liar.

“I did,” I said.

A low murmur of voices filled the room, and I caught Sandu’s gaze, gave him a slight nod.

“Then you know what must happen?” he said.

I nodded again. “I do.”