BANE: A Devils' Due MC Romance Novel (23 page)

The less the casualties, the better. That was part of the plan.

A solitary guard patrolled the door that led to the Don's bedroom, but his back was against the wall. There was no way I could slide past him.

The only way to get past him was to meet him head on.

And so I did.

He drew his gun the moment he saw me. I could've shot him before he noticed me but I wasn't supposed to use my firearm. Not yet. Not when I was that close to the objective.

And so, I sprinted towards him.

I jumped into him, feet first, before he could aim his weapon at me. A kick to his chest pushed him backwards. He lost his balance and dropped his gun. He tried to reach for it. I stabbed his fucking neck.

The first casualty of the night... the only one I was allowed to have aside from the main target.

I turned the knob. It was locked. I checked my watch. A quarter past eleven. Even an old man like the Don should still be awake at this hour.

I knocked.

Just as I expected, he wasn't asleep.

"Chi e la?"
he asked from behind the wooden divider. I guessed he wanted to know who was trying to disturb his rest.

I didn't know what to reply with. So I just said the only Italian phrase I knew.

"Vaffanculo, Vito!"

"Che daviolo?!"
he angrily said as he unlocked the knob.

As soon as it clicked, I kicked the door with so much force that I felt the other side smash into him.

I saw him sprawled on the floor as I entered the room, his face was filled with shock and rage.

But I also saw something else...

Something that made me lose it.

Lana, naked and bound and gagged, on the chair in front of the bed.

She tilted his head to face me. Her eyes brightened as soon as she saw I was there. She was still terrified, the trauma of what she must've endured lingered. And I began to wonder... what kind of perversity did Vito do to her?

My heart started to thump rapidly as my vision turned red. At that point, I didn't think of anything else but to murder the motherfucker who violated her. I wanted to rip his chest wide open and pull out his filthy heart and stuff it inside his ugly mouth.

With a primal scream, I lunged down to where he fell. I mounted the bastard, ready to strike his face with blows that would reduce him to an unrecognizable pulp of blood and flesh

"No please...
hanno merc."
He begged for mercy.

I kept screaming incomprehensible sounds of anger. He didn't deserve mercy. He didn't deserve anything but a painful death.

I was about to punch him when I was reminded of something that made me pause.

The plan...

The goddamn fucking plan...

There had to be minimal signs of physical assault on the old asshole. That was a necessity, Loco said. Otherwise, the shit would hit the fan and the entire club will have to suffer the consequences.

Before we hatched up the plan, there were only two options available for us. Either we killed them all, which would also mean that all of us would get wiped out; or we killed the Don and start a never-ending series of retaliations that would lead to the same result. But we came up with a third alternative, one that was couched with uncertainties but offered better chances for the club's survival.

And beating up the fuckface who led our enemies wasn't part of that recourse.

"Shit!" I yelled as I slammed my fist on the floor next to his face. He heaved a sigh of relief.

I got up and untied Lana. She hugged me as soon as she got free. She began to cry. I knew right there and then that she has abandoned all hope that she'd see me again. I caressed her back and gave her forehead a kiss.

I was so mad that I was at the brink of lunacy. But holding her in my arms like that... feeling her warmth as she breathed over my body... it made me calm down a bit. She was alive. That was the most important thing.

"Did her hurt ‘ya? Did he touch ‘ya?" I wanted to know.

She shook her head while her face was still buried in my chest.

I believed her. Vito was an old fuck who was too weak to even wipe his own ass. He probably just wanted to see a young, naked girl to know if he could still get a fucking erection.

"T-They... They killed Trevor," she weakly said, her voice muffled by her tears.

"I know," I replied. "But ‘yere safe now, and I won't allow any harm to come to ‘ya again."

I removed my kutte and helped her wear it. I grabbed a blanket from the bed and covered her with it.

Time wasn't on our side. God knows how long the brothers could keep distracting the majority of Vito's soldiers.

"We have to get out of here," I told her.

She nodded in agreement.

"But first, there's something that I need to do," I added. "’Ya might wanna turn around for this one, kid."

Her eyes opened wide. She looked at me keenly, then she understood what I was trying to say. Once again, she nodded and turned to face the wall, just as I instructed.

I drew my gun and returned to where Vito was.

He started to mumble in desperation. He, too, knew what was coming.

"Oh Dio... sinfrega di no pare... per favore..."

I understood some of the words he uttered, primarily because of the way he frantically delivered them.

"No, God won't help you now, you motherfucking cocksucker," I said as I clicked the lock of my Glock.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Three shots. One on the head. Two on the chest.

Just as we planned.

But it wasn’t enough.

Fuck the plan!

Bang.

Another shot and his forehead was shattered. Blood sprouted like water from a fucking water hose. The first three shots were for the club. The last shot was for me.

"Let's go," I told her and she hurriedly dashed towards me, tiptoeing on the floor to avoid the blood that spilled. She didn't show any sign that the Italian's dead body disturbed her. The girl's got more guts than I credited her for.

"How do we escape?" she asked.

"There's a fire exit on the left side of this joint," I answered. "We"ll climb down from there. But first, I gotta do something really quick... and I might need ‘yer help."

"What do we have to do?"

"We gotta pick up this dickwad's body... and another guy's corpse outside... and drop 'em down from the window where I came from."

"D-Drop them down?" she repeated in nervous disbelief.

"Yeah," I confirmed. "We just have to make sure that they both land butt-first."

The brothers met up with me in an abandoned building at one of the backstreets of downtown Casper, parallel to a busy road and a five to ten minute walk from
La Trattoria
, Vito's favorite Italian restaurant. Lana was with me, still wrapped in a silk blanket and my kutte. I could've brought her back to the clubhouse, but there was no fucking way I'd allow her to leave my sight ever again... especially tonight when there's still some work that needed to be done.

They were all in a good mood, high-fiving and hugging each other like we just won. We haven't won. Not yet. Probably not ever. But we were here to ensure that the remaining risks would be minimized.

Many of them approached Lana and embraced her, expressing how they were happy and relieved to see her safe and, relatively, unharmed. She returned their concern with an iffy smile. She never expected them to be worried about her at all.

A van parked beside our bikes.

"The prospects?" I asked Loco.

"Nah," he said. "That's Romeo and Pip. With Vito's fucking carcass."

True enough, Romeo and Pip pulled out two bodies from the back of the cage... the Don's and the unlucky thug who guarded his room.

Bear couldn't help but spit at their corpses.

"Hey! Watch it!" Prez scolded him. "That's DNA shit, remember?"

Bear apologetically held up his arms as he took a few steps back. Loco inspected the bodies.

"Stab wound on the neck?" he remarked. "Ouch."

"He's a lapdog," I explained. "No one will care about him. My work on the old fuck's as clean as a babe's ass cheeks."

He glanced over the Don's corpse.

"Sweet beejeezus!" he exclaimed in shock. "Four bullet holes? I told you... three max!"

"Sorry, got carried away."

"And... what the fucking fuck's fuck?! His lower body's shattered from the butt down!"

"I had to get him outta the building, Prez. I couldn't use the stairs."

"You dropped him from the window?"

"Yeah. He landed vertically though."

"I bet he did.  His legs look like mashed potatoes."

"I just didn't expect his anatomy to be that fucking... brittle."

"He's like three hundred years old, Bane. What did you expect?"

"I had no choice, Prez..."

"Doesn't matter now. We'll just make it look like he fell from the stairs."

"Yeah, that'll work."

Another van arrived. This time, I was sure that it was the prospects. Bunbux and Dimwit came out and a group of brothers immediately huddled around them.

"Success?" Loco wanted to know.

"Easy," Bumbux assured him.

Dimwit walked towards the back of the van and opened the door. Me and the brothers followed. The stench of blood, rusty and strong, escaped the vehicle. It was still fresh.

There were two bodybags there.

"You sure they're Russians?" I asked.

"That's what Peterson said," Bumbux answered. "He even led us to their place. He waited for us until the job was done and identified the bodies himself.