done things that would make even you, Carlo De Maggio, blush.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I tell him. “But I will. You know I will.”
He giggles. The sound is horrifying. I’ve been in this situation many times and never, not once, has the man laughed like that. It’s like a part of him wants the torture.
“Do what you must,” he says with a shrug.
“When did you last see your father?” I ask. “Let’s start with that.”
“Did I ever tell you about the time I killed a little girl because she saw me take out her father? It was a routine job and, well, I wasn’t happy about it. I really don’t like to think of that look on her face, y’know. But she saw it all and I had to do it.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I feel like I’m in conversation with the devil.
“So that you don’t feel bad.” He grins, voice matter of fact. “Some men need a little nudge in the right direction.”
“Carlo…” Nario warns.
I stand up. “One last chance, Benjamin. Where’s the Elephant?”
“In the zoo, I imagine—”
My kick catches him just under the chin, sending his head back into the wall with a sickening crunch. He lets out a yelp, hands shooting up to cover his face. “No!” he wails. “Stop, please!”
“Where is he?” I roar.
“I don’t know!”
“When did you last see him?”
“In the zoo!” He cackles wildly. “In the fucking zoo! That’s where elephants live, ha! Ha!”
“Nario.”
“Yep.”
Nario steps forward and places the barrel of his gun against Benjamin’s forehead.
“Look at me,” he says.
Benjamin looks up, quivering. I hate how vulnerable he looks, despite knowing who he is, what he’s done, what his father has done to my family.
“Is this how you want to die?”
“No,” Benjamin says. “But I will to protect Daddy.”
The interrogation goes on this way, leaving me with nothing but grazed knuckles and a stinging in my arm from the knife wound. Benjamin gives us nothing. By the end, he is lying on the floor, panting hollowly, blood flecking the wall behind him.
“No more PlayStation,” I snarl. “No more toilet. No more good food. Not until you give us something.”
I stalk from the room, opening and closing my hands, my fists throbbing. “Fuck!”
“Carlo.” Nario glances up at me after securing the electronic door. “What is it?”
“I don’t mind torture,” I say. “But this? Beating a man half to death and getting nothing for it?”
“He’s killed children, Carlo,” Nario reminds me. “Don’t feel guilty.”
“I don’t,” I tell him. “Just … it’s a waste of time and effort. There’s something wrong with him.”
“Of course there is. He sells heroin to kids. He said he killed that little girl because she saw him kill her dad, but who knows if that’s the truth? All we have are the police reports about the massacres. I can show you them if you want.”
“You think I’m going soft?” I growl.
I think of Hazel, of the way we talked without talking, the silent dancing of her eyes. She’s touched places inside of me I’ve kept bolted shut for years, and now they’re opening, one by one, a series of Pandora’s boxes that’s making me feel things that could interfere with the man I need to be.
Nario shakes his head. “No, never. But—it’s the girl, isn’t it?”
I say nothing as I turn and walk down the hallway. Nario follows close beside me.
“You know I love Sil and the kids,” Nario says. “But it’s like this: you have to be two men. One when you’re with your family. And another when you’re on the job. You know this. Are you the same person with Alda and Emily that you are here?”
“You know I’m not.” I push the door to the dance floor open.
“You’re allowed to care about a woman, Carlo. Not everybody is Jasmine. Not everything leads to ruin. Just—shit—what’s that word? Just compartmentalize it a little.”
I nod shortly, though for some reason it’s far harder than he’s making it seem. There’s just some energy about Hazel, like radiation, and no matter how far away I get, it still reaches me.
No matter how hard I try to escape it.
After handling some more business at the club, I head home for the afternoon. The night promises to be a busy one and I’m keen to get a shower and a workout.
I open the door to the mansion to the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen, Emily’s girlish, and then Mother’s and Hazel’s mixing together. For a second, I just stand