I had beat the man to death.
And, now, we were standing inside Ciro’s favorite hangout, tired as fuck, where Randolph Masterson hung limp from the chains suspended from the ceiling.
“How are you hanging in there?” Luca asked, his voice quiet. He was probably wondering how close I was to killing Frankie.
“If I could bleach my eyes to rid me of the image of her battered and beaten, half undressed, tied to that fucking chair, I’d do it,” I answered.
“She fucking scared ten years off my life,” Ciro mumbled.
“And what do you think of the girl?” Luca questioned. We both knew handing her the keys to the truck and giving her the freedom that he did was a test. He wanted to see what she was going to do. Even if she went to the police, the evidence and plans were already in motion to blame her for Randy’s death should she choose that route.
“I honestly don’t know,” I told him. “I was too worried about Frankie.”
“Ciro?”
“She got my sister kidnapped,” he spat. “She obviously doesn’t have any of the good sense God gave her. How in the hell do you just advertise that kind of information about your best friend?”
Luca cock his head. “You’ve never pillow-talked?”
“He’d have to fuck them in a bed in order for a pillow to be available, Luca,” I snorted. “Ciro’s more of an against-the-dirty-wall-behind-a-nightclub kind of guy.”
Ciro flipped me off.
Then he looked at Luca. “Have you?”
It was known to both of us that Luca had a steady piece of ass. They weren’t in a relationship, by any means, but she was the only one he slept with. He might get his dick sucked randomly from time to time, but he only stuck his dick in Beverly. He met her around the time Frankie had taken off, and he always met up with her when he needed to take the edge off.
She was about ten years older than he was, and she was very fit and beautiful. The best thing about her though, was the fact that she couldn’t have kids. Luca never fell prey to a pretty face or hot body. He was too controlled and disciplined for that. He also knew the wretched things most women would resort to in order to become a Benetti, so he stayed away from the masses.
There was no way some woman was going to trap Luca Benetti.
Beverly was a professor at Morgan City Community, and she taught chemistry. She lived a quiet, unassuming life and knew exactly who Luca Benetti was. Knowing one wrong move could end her life, she kept her mouth shut and her leg opened for Luca, and she never pushed for anything more.
“I don’t do much talking when I’m in bed, Ciro,” he joked. The rare side to Luca only Ciro, Frankie, and I got to see.
Ciro rolled his eyes and got back to the topic at hand. “I don’t trust her.”
“Me either,” Luca replied. “I have Estevan on her, and we’ll see what she does.”
“Frankie’s going to insist on helping her,” Ciro pointed out.
“Frankie’s got bigger problems,” I countered.
All talk ceased when we heard a moan vibrate through the room.
“Ah, look who’s waking up,” Ciro declared, cheerfully, “our good buddy Randolph.” Luca let out a soft chuckle as I just shook my head. Ciro was always full of theatrics.
We stood back, Luca leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets, Ciro smiling like a loon next to the tools of his trade, and me standing off to the side of Randy’s dangling body. I wasn’t going to deny Ciro or Luca their payback, but Randy’s last breaths belonged to me.
We waited patiently as Randy’s eyes fluttered open. It’d be a few seconds before he was fully coherent. I knocked him out pretty hard to begin with, but Luca had given him another thump to the head before I carried him from the SUV to Ciro’s most favorite place in the world. We had chained him up while we had waited for Ciro to drop off Frankie’s car and stuff to her. Randy’s been out for about half hour or so.
The second the haze cleared, his eyes bulged, and he started screaming behind the rag stuffed in his mouth.
Ciro grinned. “Glad you could join us.”
“Randolph Masterson,” Luca began. “Son to Rachel and Darren Masterson, no siblings.” The panic on Randy’s face was real, but then he was in the presence of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Ghost. He knew he was fucked. “Graduated high school-barely. No real job to speak of, mostly odd jobs here and there. Used to live at 185 Marion Lane in Cedar Creek until you started mooching off your latest girlfriend, letting yourself get evicted and crashing at her place.” Randy was either agreeing or disagreeing, but his words were muffled, so I couldn’t be sure. “You have a few worthless friends…well, two short now with Tony and Eddie gone.” He looked over at me. “Am I missing anything else?” he asked, reciting the information Sal got for us on good, old Randolph.
“You left out the best thing about Randolph,” I added. “His parents are both deceased. Drugs, I do believe.” I turned to face Randy. “Am I right? Drugs, correct?”
“And that means no one will miss you,” Ciro finished.
Randy was screaming again, but that was easy to ignore. We were used to the background noise of begging and pleading. It no longer fazed us.
“So, here’s what’s going to happen, Randy,” I informed him. “We’re going to spend time with you in order of importance. Since Luca is Frankie’s best friend, he’ll get to go first. And, then, Ciro being Frankie’s brother, he gets to go second, and that’ll be a real treat. Luca knows he has to leave enough of you for us to get our chance, but Ciro, here…well, he tends to get overexcited sometimes.” Randy started thrashing around, but the great thing about our suspension chains? They
