What We Owe

Chapter Eleven

STEFAN

".....If you ever find yourself in love, know that the only thing you can do for them to keep them safe is let them go. If you don't, you might as well shoot them yourself."

I was looking down at Claire, my gun pressed against her forehead. She was looking at me like I was a completely different species, something or someone she had never seen before. Her eyes gave away how afraid she was for a split second but she jutted her chin up like she did when she was trying to convince me she wasn't intimidated by me. My body wasn't my own for those few minutes. The second she defended Dex in the closet, I felt the monster I reserved for work take over me.

"Do it!" She yelled, "Fucking do it you coward!" She put her hands on the barrel, pressing it further into her skin. "Make the decision! Put me out of my Goddamned misery!"

I looked at her, no fear in her eyes anymore, just pure hatred... hatred for me. She wasn't afraid to die, wasn't afraid of the things I was capable of. I pulled the barrel away and got off from atop of her. I looked down at her, still laying there. She was eyeing me, not making a move to get up. I emptied the magazine into my hand and threw the unloaded gun down next to her. I stepped over her, not going to the elevator like I had intended to before, and walked to my study.

I locked myself in there for the entire night, not trusting myself to be around her. I checked the cameras a few times to see what she was doing, fully expecting her to break something or try to set fire to the apartment, but she didn't. She had laid on the living room floor for a few minutes, so still you would think she was dead. When she got up, she looked over to where I had walked off to, but made her way up to the bedroom instead. She was currently tucked in, sleeping as far over on her side as she could get without falling off.

She had fucking defended him. She had tried to tackle me and get the gun to protect him from me. At the thought, I picked up my empty scotch glass up and chucked it at the wall, the crash not loud enough to drown out my thoughts. Not drowning out the demons inside of me still raging on and pushing me to go finish what I had started to do.

I saw the shadows of the sunrise start forming on the living room floor on the cameras. I got up and left before she woke up. I needed to work. I needed to get her out of my head and focus on everything my father and our family had built. Focus on what I was now responsible for.

When I got to the garage, Matteo and Ox were walking up to the elevator. They got here at the same time every morning, waiting for their orders for the day. I sent Ox up, telling him to watch her and not let anyone in the apartment. I got in the black Range Rover and ordered Matteo to take me to the club I had the two traitors held in.

I pulled out a cigarette from the center console, lighting it, needing the burn in my throat. I rarely smoked, only when I needed to feel something other than what I was actually feeling. Matteo didn't question me, just got in and drove me straight there. He was my right hand. If I moved, he moved. He knew what I was thinking at all times, except when it came to Claire. I didn't even know what I was thinking when it came to her half the time. We got to the club and I went down to the basement. One of my men was guarding the door. He nodded to me and moved out of the way, letting me in. The room was dark except for two lights, one beaming down on each of them. They were both tied up to chairs and bound, seated across the room from one another. They were asleep. I stepped in, Matteo shadowing me and slamming the metal door behind him, startling the two bastards awake.

I pulled an empty chair and sat on it, the back of it on my chest, in front of the one I knew as Romero. I picked up a knife and brass knuckles from the table next to me. It was lined with weapons and devices used for this. Used for Torture.

"I need names, Romero." He looked at me with terrified eyes. Claire had more balls than this asshole in front of me. "I need to know every single fucking name of every single fucking traitor that you know of." I stood and started circling him. I slipped the brass knuckles on. "What's unfortunate for you though is, I had a bad night... A really bad night. The patience needed to torture you and wait for your pathetic little mind and body to break and actually give me those names, is something I'm not capable of right now. I need to release some of my rage. You understand that, don't you?" He started whimpering, saliva soaking the gag in his mouth. His breaths were loud and rapid.

I knelt in front of him, holding the knife in one of my hands and pressing the blade into the pad of my middle finger on the other. My skin split at the sharp metal, making blood start to trickle down the knife. I let out a sigh, looking at him like I wasn't going to enjoy everything I was about to do to him. He looked back at me, trying to speak but unable to. Nothing he could say would stop me, not even if he gave me the names I needed.

"I need to kill you, Romero.... Slowly. I am going to carve every piece of your body into an unrecognizable mess of flesh and blood while Tanto over there watches." I pointed the knife over my shoulder to the other man, not bothering to give him any of my attention yet. His time was coming.

When I looked at him, I saw Dex. I saw the man keeping Claire from giving herself to me. I continued, tone low and filled with every emotion I had been bottling up. "Then, when you are nothing more than a pile I have to clean up off the floor, I'll see if Tanto over there gives me those names willingly, granting him a quick death. Granting him something you'll be wishing for in a few minutes. Granting him something I will not give to you." The man started thrashing, trying to get free, I stood and walked to his side. I traced my knife up his exposed arm, cutting a line up from his wrist to his elbow. Blood instantly started pouring out of the vein I hit. He started screaming through his gag from the pain.

"Shhhhhhhh," I leaned down to him, "I'm just getting started."