of his eyes shone bright as fear bit at his flesh and bone. I licked along the metal of my blade. I savoured the metallic tinge it left on my tongue. “Artie, listen to me, boy.” He smiled at me—it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ve known you since you were born. I’m your Uncle Johnny. I used to pick you up from school.” I stopped a foot before him and stared dead into his eyes. Silence filled the basement. “Let me speak to your old man. Get him on the phone. I can work this out with him.” He laughed, and it instantly boiled my piss. “You lot are still just kids. You shouldn’t be doing this yet. You should be out in the world sowing your oats, not doing your fathers’ dirty work.”
I fought a smirk. This fucker was there at my first kill. Gave me a slap on the back, a cig and a dram of whisky in congratulations. He didn’t care about me being a kid then.
“You stole from the firm.” I watched that fucking offensive smile slip from his face. I looked at Eric. “Hold his knees up.” Eric moved to Johnny and pushed his knees up like he was sitting on an invisible chair. I moved closer to Johnny, and I nodded to Freddie. He knew what I wanted. He brought over one of chairs from across the room and placed it under Johnny’s legs. Eric let go of his legs, and Johnny’s feet rested on the seat, knees still bent.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice shaking. I looked down at his bare stomach. The arsehole had had one too many Sunday roasts. This would be like gutting a pig.
“You said you wanted my old man.” I met my “uncle’s” wide gaze. “You should do. Dad is a ‘kill them quick and get out of Dodge’ kind of man.” I pointed the knife at his face. “You know this. You stood by his side most of his life.” I nodded toward my boys. “Just like my brothers have done with me.”
“I fucked up, Artie. I’ve royally fucked up. Let me make it up to you.”
“Charlie?” I said, never taking my eyes off the piece of shit before me. “Would you betray me?”
“Never, cuz,” he said plainly.
“Eric?”
“Not in a million years.”
“Freddie?”
“Wouldn’t ever happen, Art.”
“Vinnie?”
“Never, never, never. Not for all the money in the world,” he sang. “It would hurt Pearl. I would never hurt my Pearlie.”
I cocked my head, looking at the lines on Johnny’s face. The pock marks and the burst capillaries. Our firm had done him well. Protected him. Gave him anything he wanted.
“Loyalty.” I pressed the tip of my knife into his fat cheek. “All we ask for in return is loyalty.” I pressed so hard that blood sprouted and ran down his face like a tear of crimson. “In the Adley firm, our word is our bond. You swore loyalty to my old man.” I pulled the knife away. “And you’ve broken your bond.” I put the handle of my knife between my teeth and rolled up my shirt sleeves to my elbows. I took hold of the knife again.
“You were right to want my old man to be your bondsman. He may be ruthless, but he’s quick and merciful.” A slow grin pulled on my lips. “I am anything but.”
“You’re insane,” Johnny spat, knowing he had no more cards left to play. “You always were a sadistic little fucker.” His eyes scanned over my boys. “You all were. All fucking insane.” He spat on the ground at my feet. “It’s beneath the Adley name, acting like this.” His nose screwed up like we were the worst-smelling fuckers in the world. “There’s dignity in being London gangsters. I was beside your old man when he created the firm. We lived by a code. We were gentlemen gangsters, not the fucking nutjob murderers you lot have become.”
“Nutjob murderers,” Charlie said, nodding. “That has a nice ring to it.”
“Is this the future of the Adley firm?” he sneered. “You lot?” He shook his head. “I’m better off being dead.”
“Glad we finally agree on something,” I said and, before he could even believe it, slashed my knife across his stomach, deep and in three directions. Johnny screamed. Blood oozed from the open cuts.
Inside, I grinned at the way he yelled. At the red on his face from the pain. I moved beside him, and his pain-filled gaze followed me. “Ever heard of disembowelment?”