Chapter-69

~TORIN~

I watched Marlowe disappear through the door, the slam of it echoing behind her. I'd done what I had to do to keep her safe. But at what cost?

I took a deep breath. She'd never forgive me for using her as I had, but I’d done what I had to. Better my uncle believe she was in possession of something he wanted, than the alternative.

Walking over to the table, I picked up the USB—the small drive contained secrets that could bring down the entire Dinelli empire—secrets that had cost my parents their lives. I clenched my fist around it, feeling the plastic bite into my skin—a reminder of what I'd given up in the name of vengeance—my heart, my soul, maybe even my humanity.

Restless, I paced the floor. Marlowe was hurt and angry, but it was a small price to pay for her life. The USB was my only leverage against my uncle now that he had placed a target on Marlowe's head. For a year, I had hidden, faked my death, and gathered information on my uncle and the Cartel.

Mind racing, I continued pacing, before finally stopping at the window, I peered out into the darkness. I could see the glow of the streetlights in the distance: a reminder that the world went on despite my turmoil.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and pulling it out, I glanced at the message from an unknown number: 'Meet me at the Slaughterhouse tonight. We have unfinished business.' It was signed with a simple 'SCD'.

'SCD' stood for my uncle, and he had finally responded to the message I had sent him a few days earlier. It was time to end this, once and for all.

Seconds ticked away the minutes and my restlessness returned. Time wasn't moving fast enough. I wanted this over, to regain control of my life.

Once again picking up the USB, I studied it, feeling the cold plastic in my palm. Its mere presence was a double-edged sword, it could bring my uncle to his knees, or it could cost me everything.

I didn't like it, but I knew I couldn't go alone; I needed backup. But the thought of putting anyone else in danger made my stomach churn. I'd already lost so much—my family, my home, and now, potentially, the only girl I'd ever truly cared about.

With a small shake of my head, and a steely resolve, I picked back up my phone.

The line rang once, twice, and then Burdock answered. "What do you want, kid?"

"I need your help," I said. "Meet me in the parking lot next to the Slaughterhouse."

The line was silent for a moment, then Burdock stated, "Alright, I'll be there."

I didn't know what was waiting for me at the warehouse, but I knew one way or the other, it would bring an end, either my uncle's or mine.

After safely tucking the USB inside a pocket of my jacket, I slipped out of the building into the shadows of the night. My eyes scanned the dark streets, looking for any sign of movement, any hint of danger, then climbed on my bike.

~~

An hour later, on foot, I approached the old, rusted gates of the long-ago abandoned slaughterhouse. I took a deep breath, knowing I was walking into the lion's den, but I had no other choice. Carlos had started this war, I was going to finish it.

Stepping forward, the sound of my boots crunching in the loose gravel, I gave a practically imperceptible nod to Burdock, and walked through the gates, ready to face whatever fate had in store.

The warehouse was a maze of corrugated steel and darkness, but I knew I was being watched as I moved deeper into the bowels of the building.

My hand rested on the butt of my gun, ready for whatever lay ahead.

Out of the shadows, my uncle called, "I knew you'd come."

I didn't say a word. I didn't need to.

As Carlos stepped out of the shadows, we stared at each other like two chess players, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

"Let's get this over with," I said, my voice low and dangerous.

"You've caused quite a stir, nephew," Carlos said, his smile never reaching his cold eyes. "It's a shame it had to come to this."

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes any more than had my uncles, as I stated, “Before this night is over, Dear Uncle, Hell will open its doors for one or both of us.”

Carlos laughed, a harsh, brittle sound that echoed through the empty space. "You think Hell would want either of us? There is a far darker place for people like you and me."

"That may be so, Uncle," I stated sarcastically, "But I  know what's on this," I told him, gesturing toward the thumb drive, "and I know how badly you want it. So, let's make a deal."

The silence between us was deafening as we stared at one another. Then, with a nod, Carlos gestured to the table in the center of the room. "Let's see what you got."

When we approached the table, I pulled the USB out, placing it on the table's surface. "This is everything you need to take down your enemies," I told him. "Now tell me you’ll back your goons off Marlowe."

Carlos’s smile grew wider. "Ah, the lovely Marlowe. My son says she’s quite fetching," he said, his eyes glinting.

My fingers curled inwardly, the urge to pull my gun strong, but I held back, I wanted the mother-fucker dead. But I needed to know Marlowe would be safe before I pulled the trigger. "I'm not playing games.”

With a dramatic sigh, Carlos leaned back. "Relax," he said, his tone mocking. "Your little girlfriend is safe—for now.

The rage in my chest grew, but I didn't let it show. "We got a deal?" My teeth were clenched, my jaw tight through each ground out word.

"You hand me the USB, let me see what's on it, and then we’ll talk. Or..." Carlos let the word hang.

My hand hovered over the USB. I could feel the eyes of my uncle's men on me, their guns trained and ready.

"How do I know, just because I give you the information, you’ll leave Marlowe alone?" I asked.

Carlos’s smile disappeared. "Because I give you my word.” His eyes never left mine.

With a snarl, I slammed my hand down on the USB. "No deal," I hissed, and in one swift motion, I pulled my gun and fired. My uncle fell to the floor, blood seeping from the bullet hole in his head.

The room erupted into chaos as bullets flew and men shouted, but I was already moving, dodging and weaving through the shadows, my eyes on the exit in the distance.

As I sprinted, I vaulted over a crate and rolled behind a forklift. The gunfire was relentless, but I managed to make it to the other side of the warehouse. I could see the exit—freedom beckoning—but so did the men chasing me. But they didn’t see Burdock, I did.

With a snarl, I turned and took aim, my shots joining Burdock’s giving us the precious seconds needed to make a break for it. We didn't look back as we headed towards the door

Seconds later, we burst through the exit, and didn't stop running until we reached our bikes.