The Mafia’s Wanted Desires

JAXON

The air that filled the room reeked of toxicity, tasting like an acidic element that was enough to gut one’s intestines out. I could feel it on my skin and my tongue. Breathing it in, even. But just like all times, it barely gained any ounce of reaction from me. The rancid and pungent smell of the dried blood that was scattered across the fading walls in stripes seemed like any other normal smell to me.

I had grown to find it fascinating.

But what, however, was beginning to get on my nerves was the lack of cooperation from the man tied upside down a few feet away from me. The familiar black material of his black tee that he was wearing the day we grabbed him at Micah’s hideout had been adorned with several holes that were a result of the bloody pocket knife which I was tossing up and down in my hands.

The blood that dotted off his body dropped to the floor like tiny raindrops and beneath him, was a pool of his blood which I had taken upon myself to drain out of him if he didn’t provide me with answers.

His whimpers were beginning to get annoying.

“Shall we try this again, my friend?” I demanded softly, folding the sleeves of my bloodied shirt to my elbows. I sucked off the tip of my pinkie which was stained with blood, approaching him with a sinister smile tugging at my lips.

His ragged breath quickened, and soft, pathetic sounds eluded him as I drew nearer, flicking the pocket knife.

“Where is Micah?” I queried, my eyes set dead on him. He shook his head, dragging out his wheezy breath slowly. Beads of tears were starting to form in his bloodshot eyes that had horror imprinted in them.

“I don’t know!” He cried out in frustration and I hissed through my teeth, digging the knife into his abdomen, eliciting a blood-curdling scream from him.

“Answer me, boy!” I bellowed, stabbing him again. I grabbed him by the hair, tightening my grip on it as I crouched to his level, wearing a sadistic expression.

“It’s only going to get worse, you fool!” I yelled coldly, stabbing him in his arm.

“I don’t know, I swear!” He swore and I scoffed, landing a punch on his cheek. Blood spluttered out of his mouth, splashing on my face in the process. I hissed through clenched teeth, rising to my feet.

“How convenient?” I muttered sarcastically.

“You don’t know where he is, but you were seen at the last place he was seen. Not to mention the strange calls on your phone.”

“Don’t you want to live? Huh, chap?” I asked him, cracking my knuckles.

“You can go to hell!” He cursed at me, his tone reeking of malice. Ha, there it is.

“Fine, I will.” I sighed, walking away from him.

“But you first!” I growled, spinning around with the speed of light and then, slashed his throat. I threw the knife to the floor and walked out of the cell, yanking a handkerchief from Duncan, who was standing by the door.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“He’s useless. Just like the others.”

I sauntered past him like a breeze, tossing the bloodied handkerchief somewhere in the vast hallways of the dungeon. My strides were longer than his and he struggled to keep up.

“We’ll keep looking, boss.” He assured me and I snorted at his uselessness. Leave it to Duncan to be useless when you need him to be useful. Fucking asshole.

“Oh, shut it. You dumbfuck.”

“You have an appointment with your therapist in ten minutes, boss.” And those words were enough to bring my steps to a halt. I whirled around, tilting a brow at him rudely, my lips pursed in a heavy frown.

“Are you fucking with me right now?” I queried him, my tone hard and stern with disbelief oozing off it.

“No, boss.”

“I need a fucking drink,” I growled, walking out on him.

______________

Taking a shower and changing into fresh clothes didn’t ease my tense muscles. The anger that brewed within me seemed to have doubled up in folds, consuming me from the inside out. My hands were clenched tightly in a fist as I marched towards my study. The harsh contact my Italian loafers made with the vinyl floors echoed loudly with each step I took, threatening to bring down the whole building.

I barged into my study, shutting the door behind me, but Duncan held it back from slamming in his face, sliding in before the door slammed shut itself. I strode to my table, snatching a bottle of whiskey from one of my drawers, and proceeding to fetch a tumbler. I poured the liquid into the glass and downed it at a go, popping a few buttons open.

It was at the tip of my tongue to tell Duncan to cancel my appointment with her, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Peach worked too hard for this and I didn’t want to screw it up. Now, I regret forcing her to go back to work because if she were here, she would be giving me moral support.

Every nerve in me screamed at me to pick up my phone and call her to come back home, but I knew how selfish that would make him, even though she would drop everything she was doing all at once and come home to me. She had missed out on a lot and I didn’t want her to put her life on hold because of me.

Besides, Ivana’s wedding was coming up soon and when it comes to weddings, it was always fittings, weird cake tasting and a shitload of other stressful things. She had to be there to give her friend all the support she needed.

I wanted to be better for her. To be a better husband and a better man. I wanted to make our marriage work. I couldn’t do that if I didn’t start healing. And if that means keeping up with the therapist she got for me, then so be it. Heck, I would walk into fire for that woman if she asked me. I cared about her more than I did myself.

I brushed my hair backwards, sighing softly.

“Is she here now?” I asked quietly, spinning around to face Duncan, who nodded his head in return.

“Yes, boss.”

“Go get her for me,” I ordered him, looking down at my diamond wedding band and twirling it softly. That way, it felt like she was closer to me than ever.