“Let’s move,” I said.
“Now?” he asked. “We wait a few more hours and this place will be empty.”
“It’s empty enough and I’m tired of waiting. We go right now.”
He frowned at me then shrugged. “What the fuck, why not.” He turned on the car and flashed his headlights three times, which was the signal to the other cars stationed all along the street that it was time to get moving.
I got out of the car first and Aida followed. I looked back at her and was about to tell her to stay behind, but she gave me a fierce look and spoke first.
“I’m coming,” she said.
“It’ll be dangerous,” I said.
“Good.” She gave me a hard look and I just laughed.
“I turned you into a monster,” I said, and stepped closer to her. I kissed her softly. “I think I like it.”
“I bet you do,” she said, grinning.
I let her go and stalked across the street. Steven followed, with Aida in the rear. I saw Biagio, Ryan, and Carmine coming up toward us, while John, Cosimo, and Chad came from the other end of the sidewalk. We converged in front of the apartment’s door, and Cosimo took point, producing a lockpick set from his jacket pocket. He dropped to one knee and got to work.
We couldn’t just break down the door, because that was loud and would’ve drawn attention. I noticed a few people walking past looked over at the group of us with a little suspicion, but nobody stopped or said anything. I gave them steady stares and they kept on walking.
It took Cosimo three minutes to pick the locks, which was pretty damn fast. Once the top bolt came undone, the door swung open, and I went in first.
Steven followed after me, followed by Biagio. I told Aida to at least come in last. Cosimo and Chad would watch the door and make sure nobody came in behind us.
The staircase was cramped and old. The steps creaked under my weight. They were wood, painted gray, and the walls were bare and white. A single light burned up in the ceiling as we reached the first landing, turned, and hurried up the next flight. The bulb sat just above the single apartment door at the very top of the steps. I could hear noise from the bar down below us, some shouts and cheers, and a general clatter of glasses and plates.
I tried the knob but it was locked. I grabbed onto the railing, braced myself against the wall with my other hand, and reared back my right leg. I smashed my boot into the door right below the handle. It flexed and wood cracked, but it took a second kick to smash the door inward. It flew open and banged against the wall as I barreled inside, my Glock up and ready.
My heart beat fast and I was itching for violence. The entry hall had a single door on the right that led into an empty galley kitchen. I moved past it and into a relatively large and open living room. There was a single futon with empty pizza boxes on the floor next to it and a coffee table with four empty bottles of vodka. The TV was an old flat-screen with enormous side bezels and it was tuned into a sitcom on mute.
Steven came in behind me and nodded as he turned down another hall. Aida was following at a distance, her eyes wide, her breath coming fast. I could tell she was nervous, but she wasn’t backing away, and I liked that. I followed and he pushed his way into the first room. He flipped on the light and I peered in over his shoulder, gun out and ready. It was empty, nothing on the walls, nothing on the floor. The floors were wood and they creaked under my feet as I moved forward. There were two more doors, one at the very end, and one on the left. Nothing hung on the walls and the paint was stained almost a brownish yellow, like someone had smoked for years while living there.
I took the door on the left. It was locked, and that time kicking it was easier, since I wasn’t on the stairs. I smashed my boot into it and the door ripped open as I slammed into the room with my gun raised.
Lying in a bed with no sheets, a box of half-eaten Chinese food on the mattress beside him, was Vlas. He smiled at me and didn’t move. He wore a pair of navy-blue boxers, a white tank top that was a size too small for him, and there was a bloodstained bandage on his right leg. His eyes were sunken and he was completely unarmed, his hands held up above his head. He looked bloated and exhausted, like he hadn’t left that bed in days, and based on the trash I saw on the floor and the amount of vodka bottles, I thought that might be the case.
“You got me,” Vlas said, grinning. His eyes shone with what I thought might be a fever. He looked sallow and yellow like the walls outside the room.
I slowly lowered my gun as Steven came in behind me, followed by Biagio. Aida came in last, and I looked over at her as she stared down at the man that had made her life a living hell these past few weeks. Disgust flickered over her expression, and I knew what she was thinking.
We all looked down on the pathetic man lying on the bed before us, and I felt absolute revulsion and pity rush through me at his pitiful form.
At one point, that was my biggest rival, my greatest enemy. It was almost sad to see him reduced to such a pathetic state, simultaneously thin and bloated, rotting away on a dirty mattress in a trash-strewn room.
“What the fuck happened to you?” I asked.
He laughed and there was a hard, manic edge to
