Take Me Apart (Vitale Brothers Book 1)

“Sir, I swear—”

Bang. The ringing of the gunshot cut off any other words he was going to say. Hot blood splashed across my face and over my hands. I stared down at my hand painted with crimson drops and felt nothing.

A whistle cut through the air, and I looked away from my hand to find Gin waltzing in. His gaze danced over to the body in the chair.

“You’ve been going through them faster and faster. We can’t replace them with how fast you’re disposing of our men.” Gin kicked the chair, and the body hit the ground, adding more blood to the pool already decorating the floor. “Another traitor?”

I nodded. The shit went deep, but all they could give me was the same fucking name. Ramada. He was dead. I’d seen to it myself, and I didn’t make sloppy mistakes.

Giancarlo pulled out a cigarette, and I took one from him. “Think his ghost is haunting us?”

“He’s the last ghost I’d be worried about.”

Gin laughed, but I couldn’t join him. As of late, I laughed even less than before.

“So the cop they mentioned is Ramada or someone he worked with?”

I groaned. “I looked into his former partner already. He’s the one who ratted Ramada out.” His former partner was the straight-laced kind. The only blemish on his record was his partnership with Ramada.

I lit the cigarette and inhaled the smoke holding it as my mind wandered. It went right to Tex, fueling the anger in me and shoving any fatigue I might have felt down. I took the cigarette and pressed the lit end to my thumb to put it out. Releasing the smoke, I called for some of our men to come in and start cleaning up.

“Shit, Enzo,” Gin growled as he stared down at my hand.

I barely registered the sting. “Don’t worry about it. I have to follow up on another lead.”

He grabbed my arm. “You need to sleep.”

Why couldn’t he see I needed to keep busy, or I’d end up doing something reckless? Like storming into the precinct and killing anyone who got in my way in search of Tex. I looked at my brother and his hold on my arm loosened enough for me to break free.

“Enzo, I get that you’re angry—”

“You don’t get anything.” I stepped away from him. “I’m doing what needs to be done for the family.”

I turned on my heels and headed out after washing my hands and face. We each had a job, and I needed to go back to focusing on mine. I’d let so much slip by as I focused on Tex, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Tex had made it clear we were enemies and nothing more.

I ground my teeth. Like every time I thought of Tex lately, I wanted to punch something or kill someone.

“Sir,” one of the men held up my keys, and I took them.

My mind was an endless sea of turning thoughts. I was so distracted I hadn’t noticed getting behind the wheel. Or even driving. I had no idea where I was going, but my mind was blank as buildings flew by. Before I knew it, I was pulling to a stop. I blinked and groaned at the sight of Tex’s apartment.

Why the hell am I here?

I knew he wasn’t there. I had a man on the place the entire time. I spotted him as he walked around the building and went inside. My stomach twisted, and my grip on the steering wheel tightened. Deep down, I knew I needed to let him go. This was Brycen all over again. Maybe my hands were too bloody to hold onto someone.

No, Tex is mine.

He could keep hiding, but eventually I was going to find Tex Caster. My phone rang, drawing my attention away from the building.

“Sir, there is something you might want to see.”

“Send me the location. I’ll be there shortly.”

The message came through. I gave Tex’s building one last cursory glance before pulling off and hitting the highway.

Ramada’s place was in a well-off neighborhood. One too nice for a meager cop salary. He’d been single. The moment I stepped into his place, I could see why.

This place is disgusting. I avoided stepping on anything that would stick to my shoes.

“What did you find?” I asked.

I slipped gloves on, realizing I had neglected to clean as well as I should after killing the last guy. My skin crawled with the knowledge, but I forced the need to go clean up down. Instead, I followed behind one of my men to the computer.

Sitting down, I clicked on the mouse, and the screen lit up. He was right. I did want to see this. There were a few hidden files, some even password protected. If it was worth hiding, it was worth looking into.

“Has anyone come over here to check on him yet?” I asked.

Blake came around the corner and shook his head. “No, sir. He has no family, and he is only a few weeks behind on bills.”

I nodded. “Leave nothing important behind.”

Blake went off to handle it with the others, and I focused on what I needed to do. Computers were far simpler than humans. They didn’t have complicated emotions or dreams that got in the way of them working.

The computer was slow, and I resisted the urge to move things around. It dinged as the software I’d installed on it was done. It combed through all the files available. My men were trashing the place even more, looking for who knew what.

If only it was so simple with a sign over it stating right here is what you need to figure out who was trying to take your family down. The computer chimed, and I went over the hidden files.

My family’s name came up on multiple occasions and a few businesses we were involved in. Ramada was far more invested than we’d thought. I took a picture and sent it over to Benito. I continued to scour the files. A few more names popped up, but one I saw just as much as our name scratched at the back of my head.

Dillan Mathews. It wasn’t my first time seeing his name or even hearing it. He was one of the few dealers working under our family. His track record was commendable. I checked over the books personally, and he hadn’t attempted to skim any money off the top. Not to mention he wasn’t involved with any of the gun shipments. What the hell did he have to do with any of this?

There were too many questions and not enough answers.

A low-end dealer’s name came up a few times. “Blake. Carter.” Both of them came over to me, ready for orders. “Find him.” I passed over the picture of Dillan Mathews.

Something told me to look further into him. I rarely ignored my instincts except when it came to a certain cop.

“Find him?”

Blake shook his head. “But we found out he was picked up a few months back.”

I gestured for them to continue and Carter picked up where Blake had left off.

“Dillan was picked up on possession and distribution charges. The case was air tight. They had someone willing to testify.”

“But?” My stomach tightened.

“The boss hadn’t put in a word for him to be cleared, and it was never reported. But Dillan went free the next day,” Blake said.

“Who was the witness?” I asked.

“Carl Rodgers, a meth addict. One of Dillan’s regulars.”

I scratched at my chin, the hair rubbing against my fingertips, reminding me I needed a trim. “What else?”

“He’s been making his payments like usual, but it’s never him anymore. His cousin said he hasn’t seen Dillan in weeks but was told to keep sending money.”

“The drugs?” My head was starting to hurt.

“Someone is selling them, but we couldn’t get the answers out of the cousin.”

“Couldn’t?”

Carter cleared his throat. “He didn’t have any answers.”

I grabbed a drink and poured it as I sat down. I preferred doing the torture myself, but I couldn’t be everywhere all the time. Carter and Blake were a few of our men that I knew were capable of getting answers when need be. I sipped my drink, the alcohol like liquid fire as it went down.

“Who was in charge of the bust?” I asked.

“Ramada and Chandler,” Carter answered.

I was up in seconds and moved some scattered books around before I found the file Benito had handed over to me. There, clear as day, was the last name on the lists. Aaron Chandler was thirty-six and was fired. Unlike Ramada, he didn’t get to keep the retirement package or even leave with pay. Everything they’d done together was placed on his shoulders. However, in the end, it was brushed under the rug, and he was able to go a free man.

Why hadn’t I killed him yet? A devilish smile and tempting eyes came to mind, and I was instantly hit with anger. The glass broke in my hand, and I stared down as it cut into my flesh. Something other than anger swirled in my chest. I shoved it all away.

No more distractions.

Guess it was time I finished the list. “Ramada’s partner was James Till. How in the hell were they the ones to bust Dillan?”

Blake looked at my bleeding hand and moved to grab a towel. I took it and placed it on the table, ignoring it and focusing on what was before me. Answers.

“Till was out on paternity leave. Ramada and Chandler were temporary partners,” Carter said.

No wonder I hadn’t put them together. They were in the same precinct but from what I had gathered, they were never together. I chastised myself for missing something that I normally would never overlook. Glaring mistakes one after another, all because I’d allowed myself to be distracted.

“Sir,” Blake said, pointing to my hand. “You should—”

“You two can leave.”

Carter pulled Blake, and they turned and headed for the door. They stopped just shy of leaving. “You want us back on Caster?”

Hearing his name sent a violent reaction through my body. I clenched my fist, and the glass pieces bit further into my flesh.

Yes. “No, he’s not important right now.” The lie was like ash on my tongue, but if I kept saying it, I was bound to believe it even when I buried him.