Page 49 of A Wife's Duty

“What’s going on?” Lucia asked.

“I’m going to drop you off at my place. You will stay there until you see me again,” Boone said.

“I want to help.”

“Lucia, your father put a hit on two of my friends. He separated them and attacked Nancy. He paid the babysitter. What I am about to do is not going to pretty. I’m not going to ask questions.”

“You’re going to kill them?”

“Yes, and I’m going to make sure they scream and they hurt, and that they know what real pain is like.”

He watched her swallow. “And I am not going to allow you to see that side of me.”

“I want you to kill them,” Lucia said. “What they did to Nancy, I want you to make them suffer.”

This surprised him.

Pulling out of the hospital parking lot, he drove with purpose, heading toward his building. One of his men was already waiting to take Lucia to his apartment.

He reached out before Lucia could leave, gripped the back of her neck, and pulled her in close to kiss her.

“I don’t want to fuck any kind of mistress,” he said. “If you want to be my wife for real, then we’ll make it so, but I won’t cheat on you.”

And with that, he let her go, leaving Lucia speechless. She climbed out of the car, and he waited for them to head back into the apartment, before driving out and getting Ronald on the phone.

“Talk to me.”

“The café has been broken to shit. It’s going to take a couple of weeks to get it running again.”

“Make it happen. I don’t care what it costs.”

“I’m already on it. Our tech guy has been in touch. Ten thousand dollars was wired into the babysitter’s account last night.”

“Is this a minor?”

“No, it’s a twenty-nine-year-old male,” Ronald said.

“Send me the address.”

The man was going to get two choices, one of them would allow him to live a long healthy life, another would have him six feet under.

With the address of the babysitter, Boone arrived in the neighborhood.

Nancy and Howard lived in a nice place. This was one of the reasons they struggled, as they wanted a good home to raise their sons.

The babysitter was Donald Snow, twenty-nine-year-old male who lived in his parents’ old home. It would appear the parents died within months of each other, leaving everything to Donald. How convenient.

Boone stepped up to the front door and knocked. It was only a little after nine.

The door opened and Boone put a smile on his face. “Good morning,” he said.

“Fuck off. I’m not interested in what you’re selling.” Donald went to close the door, and he used the leverage to smash the door in his face and step into the house. Donald had collapsed onto the floor.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Donald asked.

He closed the door, pulled out the brass knuckles he rarely used, but he felt this was a special occasion. The image of Nancy lying in a hospital bed, bruised with broken ribs, a hand, and a leg. He grabbed Donald off the floor, slammed him into the wall, and sucker-punched him in the gut.

There was no way for Donald to fight back. A blow to the jaw, one to the chest and gut, and the man was on the floor. He picked him up by the scruff of the neck, and that was when he saw the tattoo. A small black square. Valdez’s man.

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