they were part of the Chicago Mob, the reason he and his family had been secured in a safe house. Brady fought to keep his eyes closed, even as he longed to memorize each face in the room.
Sensing someone approach, he forced the panic away, doing his best to control his ragged breathing. They’d failed to bind his ankles, making escape easier. If they were stupid enough to leave him alone for even a few minutes. Brady doubted he’d be so lucky.
A sharp slap across his face brought Brady’s head up, eyes blazing in fury at the man standing before him. Fighting the fear in his gut, he studied the man. He guessed him to be in his forties or fifties. Average height and weight, his dark hair had been slicked back, giving him the look of well…the men in those movies about the mafia.
“Do you know who I am?”
The slight shake of his head had Brady wincing in pain.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“No.”
A smirk crossed the man’s face. “I am Salvatore Ricca.” He said it as if Brady should recognize the name.
Fighting the urge to lash out, he stayed silent. Brady forced his thoughts to Bas and Boomer, wondering if they’d lived through the crash. Wondering if anyone would try to find him.
“Your father calls himself Zeus.” Ricca paced back and forth in front of Brady, his face turning a deeper shade of red with each step. Stopping, he lifted his head, his features twisted in hatred and pain. “He is the one who murdered my son, Benito.”
Brady didn’t know where the courage came from, but his features hardened, eyes blazing with disgust. “Prove it.”
Ricca stared at the young man, blinking a few times before lifting his hand to slap Brady. “You’re an insolent child.”
Ignoring the pain, he glared at Ricca. “And you’re a liar.”
Setting fisted hands on his hips, Salvatore pinned him with a warning stare that would cower most grown men. Brady wasn’t yet a man, and he didn’t cower for anyone. After several long minutes, Ricca glanced at someone behind him.
“Gio. I want pictures.”
Brady dropped his chin to his chest, refusing to assist the man Ricca had called Gio. The man would take a few pictures for Zeus, maybe even his mother. But why? He believed the men in this room had no intention of keeping him alive.
“Lift your head, Brady.” Compared to Ricca, Gio’s voice was calm, maybe even a little sympathetic.
He didn’t respond, continuing to stare at the ground.
“Do not make this more difficult.”
“Why should I help you when you’re going to kill me anyway?”
Gio glanced at Ricca, who shrugged.
“You’re nothing but scum, going after those weaker than you,” Brady continued. “Your families must be so proud.”
Another hard slap to his face rocked Brady sideways, the chair tipping. It would’ve slammed to the floor if Gio hadn’t righted it. His head swam, dots of green and black blurring his vision.
Brady had done nothing except try to survive his father’s brutal betrayal. Once again, Zeus’s questionable actions had put his family in danger. Ex-family, Brady reminded himself. He hoped to never see the man again. He was done, with these men and with his father.
“How are they?” Ghost stood next to Wrath at the entrance to the emergency entrance.
“Both are banged up, Bas more than Boomer, but they’ll make full recoveries.” Wrath drew them away from the front doors. “Have you found out anything?”
“Bettencourt put Detective Darilyn Romero on the wreck,” Ghost answered. “She’s been reviewing the scene and spoken to witnesses. Two vehicles ran Bas off the road. Three men jumped out of a dark colored sedan, grabbed Brady, and took off.”
“Ricca,” Wrath spit the name out.
“That’s my guess. The men returned Katrina and Teri to the house. They know what happened to Brady. Gunner and Chaos are doing their best to keep them calm, assure them the police and we are doing everything possible to find them.” Ghost reached into a pocket, removing his ringing phone. “Yeah, Raider.”
“Damn near forgot. We planted tracking devices on each of the Snowdens. Brady has one in each pair of tennis shoes, his backpack, and a couple jackets. We know the backpack was left at the scene. I’ve got two trackers active. We know where they’re holding him.”
“By now, the police know who took Brady. We’d be fools to kill him.” Gio watched their hostage from across the room, knowing he feigned unconsciousness, saying nothing to Salvatore. “We should negotiate payment instead of killing this young