Page 269 of Phobia
Frank and my driver, Ron, remain silent, knowing it’s best to keep quiet and then step in and clean up the mess when it’s over.
Typing the code at the entrance, we walk in and head straight towards another locked door that leads to a staircase—the only way in or out of the basement. It feels calm, but the atmosphere changes the second we open the door, the panic creeping up the stairs.
No words pass as we descend, the sounds of our heavy feet meeting metal, echoing, and signaling our arrival.
My body buzzes with anticipation and burns with rage. I’m about to look into the eyes of a man who should’ve known better.
Entering the basement, I spot ten of my men standing in a circle—the rest of mybusiness partnersare sitting in a row, their seats facing one man, tied to a chair, attempting to shout through the rag stuffed in his mouth.
“Evening, gentleman.” I smile, a courtesy.
They rise to their feet, my name coming from them in chorus.
Stepping in front of the man in the chair—Charlie—now frozen in fear, I address those still in my good graces. “I appreciate you all joining me at such short notice.” I nod. “You know what’s coming wouldn’t happen without absolute proof of guilt.”
“Yes, Dom,” they chant.
Yes, Dom,indeed.
Yanking the rag from Charlie’s mouth, I grab a chair, place it in front of him and sit down. He’s panting, pale. He knows his fate, but the flare in his nostrils suggests there’s still some fight in him.
“Your grandad will be turning in his grave!” Charlie spits.
Charlie Hitchin.Uncle Charlieat one point—fucker used to bounce me on his knee—is now nothing.
“No, Charlie. Grandad’s too dizzy from the somersaults he’s been doing for the past two years he’s spent watching you fuck me over!” I roar that last part, the reality of his betrayal setting in. “Right about now, I’d say he’s preparing to welcome you in hell.”
If only it will be that easy for Charlie.
Nodding to my right, a few men disappear, having been briefed on how this will play out. I keep my eyes on Charlie because I wouldn’t miss his reaction for the world.
The sound of shuffling feet and muffled screams has Charlie’s head snapping to his left, his eyes widening when he sees his only son bound and gagged.
“No, Dom. Not my boy!” Charlie begs.
“But yourboy’sjust as guilty as you.”
Charlie shakes as Alec, my former friend, is lifted, and the loop in the rope around him is attached to the hook hanging from the ceiling.
I rise and make my way over to him, not missing the wet patch on his groin. Getting close to Alec’s face, I breathe in his stink. “Eyes on me, Alec.”
His frightened gaze meets mine, silently pleading for me to remember our history. Fuck that. The past is now null and void.
I stare at him momentarily before making my way to a nearby table, chuckling when I see what’s waiting for me—a hammer, blowtorch, and machete. “Tommy…” I turn to face the ginger bruiser with a crooked nose. “You brought my favourites.”
“Dom… please,” Charlie croaks.
Picking up the machete, I ignore his plea. “I’m not going to ask you why, Charlie, because I don’t give a fuck. I expect one thing, and one thing only: loyalty.” I raise the machete in front of him and lightly run my index finger down the edge, a drop of blood forming.
“I lost your loyalty the second you decided to steal from me.” Licking the blood from my finger, the metallic tang only heightening my excitement. “You know what comes next.” I stare him in the eyes as I stand tall. “You taught me.”
Without so much as blinking, I spin around, my arm outstretched, and two seconds later, Alec’s head is rolling across the floor. Blood erupts from the stump on his neck, a volcano of red covering anyone foolish enough to have remained too close.
“Noooo!” Charlie screams behind me.
I turn and watch him, soaking in his turmoil, not sparing a glance at the other men around us—they know better than to react. Charlie wretches as he sobs, his futile attempts to pull free from his restraints causing his wrists to bleed.
I once considered him family, but there can be no weakness in my world. No forgiveness. No mercy. We all know this.
