Page 117 of In Ruins
“Well, shit! I forgot about that. When we get to the warehouse, I’ll get it looked at. Though it’s just a graze,” I reassure Aldo.
“Are you sure?” he questions.
“Yes.”
“Well, we’re going to look after your arm first, before you go off to torture those assholes,” he says, laying down the law.
“Fuck, Aldo, I know,” I grumble.
“I’m just making sure you do. After all, Mrs. Andretti did say it was going to be my balls if anything happens to you,” he grumbles, grumpily.
“Oh, right. I forgot all about that. My wife really would hang you by the balls, just so you know,” I laugh, thinking about my five-foot-six wife going against a giant like Aldo.
“I have no doubt about it,” he chuckles.
We pull up to the warehouse, get out, and head inside. I nod for the guys to go ahead of me, because I need to give my wife a call. She answers a few seconds later, and I talk to her for a minute before hanging up. I just wanted to hear her voice because I miss her. When I’m done with the call, I make my waydown to the torture room. As soon as I step into the room, I see three men kneeling on the floor against the wall.
I pull my gun out from behind my back, choosing the one in the middle, and pull the trigger. It’s a clean shot to the head. His eyes widen in surprise before the life drains from his eyes, blood starts to pour out of the hole, and he falls to the floor.
The other two look at me with fear in their eyes. These men do not look like criminals at all. I mean, made men usually have a certain look in their eyes, a dead and uncaring aura about them that these two are certainly lacking.
“I’ll get to the two of you in a second, and it won’t be as easy for you as it was for your friend there. I just have to do something before my second-in-command starts to bitch at me,” I say, just as Aldo grumbles out his response.
“It’s for your own good, or you can be the one who explains to your wife why you didn’t get your arm looked at. I’ll let her chew your ass out,” the man says, like he’s actually pouting.
Not wanting to hear him bitch at me anymore, I take a seat on one of the chairs and take my shirt off. The doctor Aldo had come here sits in front of me with his tools ready as he takes a look at my wound.
He cleans the blood on my skin and inspects it more thoroughly. “You’re in luck, Mr. Andretti. The bullet just grazed your outer arm. You won’t need any stitches, just some bandages.”
“Thanks, Doc,” I say to the man before turning to Aldo. “See? I’m fine, and you were acting like I was on the verge of dying.”
“Better to be safe than sorry, boss.” He grins, not even apologetic.
The doc takes his leave, and I stand up and walk over to the two men who are still alive. They’re both whimpering already. Who the fuck hired these idiots?
I pull one of them up and slam my fist into his face, satisfied with the snap I hear when his jaw dislocates. I turn around and kick the other one in the chest. He falls back against the wall with a cry of pain.
“Who hired you to attack my warehouse?” I demand to know.
“I-I don’t know,” the one I just kicked answers.
“Are you sure you have it in you to take a beating from me? I’m not known for my mercy,” I tell the man currently looking up at me with fear etched across his entire face. Just then, something occurs to me. “Do you know who I am?”
“N-no,” he whimpers.
“Then why the fuck were you attacking my shit?”
“The man who hired us wanted us to open fire on the place because he said the person who owns the warehouse stole something from him,” he explains.
“Well, let me tell you who I am. Does the name Enzo Andretti mean anything to you?” I ask, and see his eyes widen. He shakes his head while the one with a broken jaw lets out a whimper. “That is who I am. It seems as though you’ve heard of me, so tell me, do you think I have the time or need to steal anything from anyone?”
“N-no, sir,” he stammers.
“Glad you seem to still have a brain in there. Tell me who hired you, and I’ll make your deaths quick. If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll make sure to go after every member of your family and kill them one by one because of your foolishness,” I threaten.
“I-I don’t know, sir,” he snivels.
Before I can even say another word, my phone rings. I grab it out of my pocket just in case it’s my wife. She’s close to her due date. She could go into labor at any moment. When I look at the screen, it’s not her. It’s an unknown number. I don’t know why, but something tells me to answer it, so I do.
