mcntoyaâ:
Rafe had better things to do than fulfilling some messed up fantasy some has-been man had in his mind. His eyes looked around once more, trying to understand where he was, see if there was anything around him that could give him a hint of where he was standing, tied up like an animal. There was only focus in his eyes, though his attempt had been to no avail.Â
There were no hints of worry about his own situation inside of his head, not when the Capo knew that there was a big shipment about to be handled and he wasnât there to do his job. That was where his mind was; not at the obviously dire situation in his hands. If the man was going to hurt him, so be it ââ Rafe wasnât going to give anything away and he would rather die than become a filthy rat. Even for a man with blood on his hands, he had his own moral code.
Rafe scoffed at Liamâs words, half laced with an incredulous smirk. What the fuck did this asshole want from him? âThanks for the Yelp review,â the Capo said, sarcasm dripping from every word that left his mouth. Rafe couldnât bring himself to take any of it seriously, not when he had such low regard towards his own life and safety. As far as he was concerned, the man was either a cop that was bored with his job and was using Rafe as a means to an end or he was someone that couldnât handle a fair fight and wanted to make things easier for him.
As the man got closer, Rafe shifted in his position, turning so he was facing the man, full-on; his arms up made it so it was harder to breathe and he could feel his wrists screaming because of the pressure. But he had endured worse, on the pain scale, and so he wasnât fazed. Not yet. Rafe looked at the man, into his eyes. There was something more behind them and Rafe was torn between wanting to know and not giving a fuck about whatever the man thought he had on him.Â
The manâs eyebrows furrowed. âRevenge? I donât ev âââ The moment the manâs fist collided with Rafeâs stomach, the Capo let out a groan of pain through gritted teeth; if he wasnât tied up by his arms, he would have hunched over. Alas, there was only so far he could bend, caused by his abdomen tightening at the pain. Sharp breaths escaped him, his eyes looking up after a few heartbeats. Nothing escaped him, no words, nothing. Whoever the man was, he believed Rafe had done something to warrant⌠Whatever that whole thing was. Rafe was careless about his own well being, but not stupid.
That punch was followed by another one, and Liam screamed as his fist made contact with muscle again. âFucking....â It was hard to articulate exactly how distraught Liam felt. He had never been a violent man, or an angry man. But loss and grief were powerful catalysts. He lost two very important people in his life, in the space of very short days. And as much as Liam hated this part of him, if he was going to be sad, Rafe was going to see it too.
With that, Liam straightened his posture and gritted his teeth, coming face to face with him. âHow familiar are you with the name Rita?â Giving the other man no time to respond, Liam gripped Rafeâs hair and tugged. âAnswer me!â, practically screaming at his face before letting him go.Â
âFuck!â Another gut punch before Liam moved away to his little set up; a table with instruments he collected over the year. The stray pipe he had used on Rafe lay there, looking ever so pristine. Picking it up, Liam tested it in his hands. âGive me the truths, and Iâll spare you the cane, Rafael. First question, what happened to Rita Daniels?â He turned to face Rafe now, holding the pipe in his hand. âYou donât want to know what happens if you lie to me about this.â And with that, the pipe came down on Rafeâs left hip, the sound deafening in the loud space.Â











