Chapter 29: on

LUCA

As I walk around to the back of the golfing business, I can hear someone getting the piss beaten out of them. I find that one of Cain’s guards is currently violently punching a man—Koba, as I’ve been told.

Instead of doing it himself, Cain appears to have doled out the duties to his men.

Truthfully, I’m not sure how he’s able to maintain his status when he barely lifts a finger himself. How can he be a figure of terror amongst so many people when he rarely injures anyone on his own and has other people do it?

I can admit though, he’s able to find people rather quickly when he wants to. Granted, it took him a long time to figure out Marchetti was responsible for the hit on the house. Is that not the first place he looked? They’re known enemies.

Then again, maybe he wanted solid proof before he did anything about it.

Leo steps up to Cain, discreetly whispering something to his father. I already know what’s happening before he dismisses his son, and urges me over. “I have to leave,” he informs me. “You’ll take over here. Do what needs to be done. Whether he speaks or not, he’s—” Cain closes his eyes momentarily, shaking his head. It’s a nonverbal sign that no matter what Koba does or doesn’t tell us, I’m supposed to kill him.

I nod, “I’ll do what needs to be done.”

“He’s been tightlipped so far, but I have faith in you, Luca.” He puts a hand on my shoulder as a sign of trust and with a final nod of his head, he leaves with Leo and another guard.

He’s testing me. This is a test to see how I handle more responsibility.

I glance at the golf cart only a few feet away and I get an idea that would have once horrified me. I scan across the area surrounding us, but I know that I won’t find anyone. I’m assuming Cain has done something to ensure the business has been shut down for the evening, allowing us free rein of the grounds.

I wave Nero over, demanding, “Get the keys to the golf cart. Bring it around and park it right there—” I point to where the group of men are standing with Koba. “Park it with the headlights facing north.” Facing us.

He nods, scurrying off to do as he’s told.

One of the guards appears to be talking to Koba, trying to wrangle information out of him unsuccessfully. I can sense that these men both don’t trust me and don’t see me as the authority figure in Cain’s absence and it worries me.

I need for these men to respect me if I’m to be successful in this. If shit hits the fan and they hold no regard for me, they’ll throw me to the wolves faster than I can blink.

I basically have to mimic Cain and I’m not particularly thrilled about the idea. I detest the man, why would I want to be anything like him?

Nero brings the small vehicle around, parking it exactly as I have asked. In the short amount of time I’ve spent with Nero, I’ve grown to appreciate him. He’s so much better than having Kash around. He does as he’s told without giving me attitude about it.

Plus, he actually seems to have some useful skills.

The other guards standing around observe as I saunter to the cart, pleased to see Koba’s clubs placed in a bag on the back. They’ve obviously been keeping him here for a while. I reckon they interrupted his game and have been beating the fuck out of him ever since in an attempt to get information.

I choose one at random and then grab the bucket of golf balls he was carrying with him.

The guards look confused as I walk towards them. I casually rest the club upwards and atop my shoulder and then choose a location to place the bucket down.

I glance at Nero, “Got rope? Tape? Something like that?”

He nods and I request he grab it. When he comes back with it a minute or two later, I use an authoritative voice as I demand, “Tie him to the front of the cart.”

Nobody moves.

I use a Cain trick, raising my voice as I order, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

They all scramble like there’s a fucking tornado approaching in the distance. In only a few minutes, Koba is secured to the front of the golf cart—his arms stretched out and tied to the poles that hold up the roof to the small vehicle.

He fights against the restraints, uttering curse words, screaming to be let go. I stare at the man who’s helplessly tied up, who won’t see the light of tomorrow and I can’t help but think that Cain’s presence in my life has brought death with him. He’s brought far too much death to my life and now he’s bringing me down to the depths of hell to rule beneath him.

I feel as though I’m dangling over the edge of a cliff by a thin, old rope and the material has frayed over time. Each sin has cost it to lose fiber after fiber until there’s nothing left. Where it once saved me from plummeting over the sharp, dangerous edge of the cliff, it’s snapped and sent me hurtling towards dark territory.

Is there any point in pretending to be the hero in my own story when everyone around me treats me as though I’m the villain?

“You’re Luca?” Koba asks, yanking on the restraint on his right wrist as hard as he can.

“No, I’m fuckin’ Spiderman,” I mock. “D’you wanna’ tell me where Kasimir is? If not, we can play golf, but I’m rubbish at it.”

Even speaking Kash’s name aloud pisses me off. But if Kermit wants to play games and poke the motherfucking bear, I’ll show him exactly what it’s like to get ripped to fucking shreds.

I will find him and he will pay for what he’s done to Raven.

I’m fighting, clawing, and scratching to stay above the surface and not get swept to the depths by the undercurrent, but as Koba glares me down and over dramatically seals his mouth shut, followed by tilting his head back, it becomes substantially harder to keep my head above water.

“I won’t give you many chances, Koba. How do I find Kash? Why is he working with Enzo Marchetti?”

“I already said—I don’t fuckin’ know anything about Kash other than he works for Marchetti.”

He avoids eye contact, balling up his fists at his sides. It’s an obvious sign that he’s lying to me, but it doesn’t come as a surprise. He’s an acquaintance of Kermit. I wouldn’t trust a single person that hangs around him.