Shattered Hearts (Irish Kings #1)

31. Finn

Chapter 31

Finn

Whoa. My head.

Rough hands snatch the hood up and over my face.

Optic white interrogation light accosts my eyeballs.

In the center of this spotlight, I find myself strapped down. The cold metal chair beneath me almost feels wet. My ankles are zip-tied to the icy chair legs tight enough to prevent blood circulation to my feet, and my wrists have been given the same treatment.

Ahead of me, the only thing visible is a shadow. I have the view of an audience from the eyes of a performer on the brightly lit stage.

My mind is alert, but my senses sway, compliments of the drug cocktail swimming through my veins.

After Rory left, I maxed out my pain pump, and then used the Gallagher name to persuade a nurse to get me a syringe of epinephrine.

Adrenalin to kick my brain into high gear.

Morphine to dial down my pain volume.

I hid the syringe, got a cab to the meeting point—I recognized the old drop location from the days when we still did business with Red Hill—and injected myself just before we arrived. I don’t remember much after getting out of that cab. Maybe that’s due to the disorientation of two powerful medications interacting in my bloodstream, coupled with being unconscious after sustaining multiple stab wounds.

At least I’m still alive. For now.

Nearby, a door squeals open, but I can’t see where. Footsteps echo in my periphery. I smell Enzo De Luca before I see him, my nose offended by the pungent combination of cigar smoke trapped in the fibers of his worsted wool suit, overpowering patchouli cologne, and the sour whiskey on his breath.

He paces behind me, footsteps continuing to echo unevenly in my ringing ears.

“You’re not what I expected.” The throaty amusement in his voice bounces through this dark, cavernous place. “Matteo was such a bull. I figured you’d be bigger.”

“There’s no man a bullet can’t kill.” An awful taste on my tongue forces me to spit. “You’re no exception.”

Enzo erupts with laughter.

Italian leather shoes come to rest in front of me. In the dim light, I get a vague sense of a round face and sharp eyes, but the rest of his facial features are shrouded in darkness.

“A comedian.” Enzo sighs. “It’s been a long time since I killed a comedian.”

Homicidal urges rage beneath my skin. What I wouldn’t give for my gun and brass knuckles.

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” I focus on the darkness where I imagine his eyes might be. “I got your nephew locked up and your brother out of the way, clearing the path for your ascent to power.”

Enzo considers me for a moment.

“My nephew got what he deserved.” A flame comes to life in the darkness, lighting the butt of a cigar. I almost gag. “And as the saying goes, an idiot doesn’t fall far from the tree. Or something like that.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Matteo shouldn’t have done that to your wife.” As he puffs on his cigar, bitter smoke curls through the air. Bri’s face flashes in my mind. “Dismemberment is so…unimaginative. I would’ve gone with something more modern and tasteful.”

My muscles heave against the restraints, but I refuse to deign his remark with a reply.

“What’s this?” Surprise curves his tone. “Still touchy over a dead girl, are we?”

Don’t let him bait you.

“You know where you are, don’t you?” The smugness in his voice makes me want to rip his esophagus out of his body through his nostrils. “This is a special place for both of us. This is the room where that pretty EMT of yours took her last breath.”

Every cell in my body explodes with white-hot rage. Fucking bastard.

“This is also the place where you cut my big brother’s life short.” The joy in Enzo’s voice twists my stomach. “I thought, what better place to break you into pieces than a place with so much history?”

Pain sears my wrists as they strain against the zip ties securing my arms onto the rests. I don’t have the words to describe what I want to do to this man, but killing him will be the kindest item on the list.

“You know why they call me Bone Breaker?” Enzo chuckles, giddy and pleased with himself.

I do know why.

Because Enzo De Luca likes to break every single bone in a person’s body. In the end, he severs their spine, creating paralysis, leaving his victims broken, unable to move, and begging for the sweet mercy of death.

“Are you done monologuing?” I tilt my head. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been tortured by more notorious killers than you.” Twice. “They didn’t live long enough to regret it. And neither will you.”

“That’s bold talk for a man whose life is at my mercy.”

The more I provoke him, the angrier Enzo will get. And that will encourage him to drag this out, which will give my father and the others time to mount a counteroffensive.

With the morphine in my system, I’ll at least get a head start on the harrowing amount of hurt about to take place here tonight.

This is the least I can endure, after what Bri went through. I’d endure any pain to ensure Riley never suffers the same fate. And now is the time to put my money where my mouth is.

“Now clip your dick on and hit me, motherfucker?—”

Enzo’s fat, meaty fist crashes into my jaw, taking the words right out of my mouth. Here we go.