Chapter 211 Both Won and Lost
The iron gate creaked open, and Rodolfo's head snapped up.
Joe strolled in, gun in hand, staring blankly at Rodolfo slumped in the chair.
"Who... who are you?" Rodolfo stammered.
"It's me," Joe replied.
Rodolfo's eyes widened in shock.
Joe lingered at the door for a moment, then pulled out a pack of cigarettes and walked over.
Rodolfo sat there, trembling.
"Have a smoke." Joe lit two cigarettes, stuck one in his mouth, and handed the other to Rodolfo.
Rodolfo took a shaky drag, his face pale. "How... how did you find me?"
Joe stayed silent.
Rodolfo tapped his toes nervously. "You... you knew I would confess, didn't you?"
"No," Joe said, eyes closed, puffing away. "But I knew you saw Leon. I had to put him out there so William and Adam could see. If you confessed, I'd use Leon to fight back; if not, I'd kidnap William to trade for you."
Rodolfo was stunned.
"But you let us down, betrayed everyone," Joe said calmly.
Rodolfo spat out the cigarette and shouted, "Joe, I'm not afraid of dying. I knew this day would come. But I couldn't take the torture. William locked me up for three days, no food, no sleep, even gave me psychotropic drugs. I..."
"I get it," Joe interrupted. "I understand why you couldn't hold on."
Rodolfo was stunned.
Joe was silent for a moment, then turned and showed his left side. "There's a knife, take it."
Rodolfo trembled even more.
"If you had listened to me, even held off gambling for a few days, Zachary and Caleb wouldn't have had trouble. If you hadn't betrayed us, I could've brought you back," Joe said steadily, smoking. "But you failed at both. I still consider you a brother, so I won't touch you. You owe an account to those who died."
"Joe, I... I..." Rodolfo panicked, legs shaking.
"Take the knife," Joe said, eyes closed.
"Joe, I don't want to die!" Rodolfo shouted. "I barely made it through, I don't want to die."
Joe gritted his teeth.
"Joe, it's just us here. Let me go, no one will know," Rodolfo's voice trembled. "I've never asked you for anything. Help me this time, for all the years we've risked our lives together."
If Rodolfo hadn't been tortured, he might have had the courage to kill himself. But after those three days, he lost his resolve. He didn't want to die, too scared to die.
Joe slowly raised his left hand, took the cigarette from his mouth. "Rodolfo, take the knife."
"I won't." Rodolfo shouted in despair, "Joe, think about our history! Remember when Bishop was almost burned alive? Who grabbed a gun and saved him with you? When we were stranded at the border, who carried you through the snow for miles?"
Joe's hands trembled.
"Everyone makes mistakes. I was scared, but if it was somebody else, can you guarantee he won't do the same?" Rodolfo cried, tears streaming down his face. "Let me go. I'll leave, live a quiet life. I beg you."
Joe spat out his cigarette, stomped on it, and aimed his gun at Rodolfo's head. "Rodolfo, there are two brothers outside watching me. In our line of work, if we don't follow the rules, we can't survive."
"Joe, our brotherhood and your rules, which is more important?" Rodolfo shouted.
Joe's mouth twitched.
"Think about my mom, my wife, and kids," Rodolfo pleaded. "If I'm gone, what happens to them?"
"In this game, you have to follow the rules," Joe's voice trembled. "Zachary and Caleb had families too. You have to accept the consequences."
"Joe!" Rodolfo screamed.
"Rodolfo, I'm... I'm sorry."
Two gunshots rang out.
Rodolfo struggled in the chair, then fell to the ground.
Joe gripped the gun and turned to leave.
In the hallway, the two men with Joe rushed into the room, looking at Rodolfo.
"Don't trust me," Joe shouted back. "do you?"
The two men looked stunned, then quickly followed Joe out.
A few minutes later, outside.
"Bishop called, asking what we should do?" the burly man on the left said quickly.
Joe turned back, expressionless. "Bring the car over, let's go."
"Okay." The burly man ran down the steps.
Joe turned to the other man, frowning slightly. "You go too."
The middle-aged man nodded and left.
Streetlights cast a faint glow. Joe stood in the snow, took out a pack of cigarettes, and realized it was empty.
The cold wind blew, and Joe looked up at the distant street, eyes red, crushing the empty pack.
"Damn it." Joe squinted, licked his chapped lips, then walked down the steps, muttering, "It's my fault, Rodolfo."
On the street, Joe's desolate figure walked to the car, opened the door, and got in. His face looked normal, but his bloodshot eyes couldn't fool the two brothers with him.
In a residential house, a young man finished a phone call and shouted, "Pack up, we're leaving."
"Back to Pine City?" a man at the round table asked.
"No, we head to District Nine first and wait for the call," the young man responded.
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