Saving The Capo's Heir

Fifteen

Thomas

I am currently sitting in a vehicle; my head is covered with some type of pillowcase, I assume, and I am holding baby Aaliyah tight in my arms. The fact that I can’t see anything raises my senses to an ultimate high. Technically, I can remove the pillowcase from my head as my hands are not tied, but I prefer being blind than, them having Aaliyah in their hands. I am trying to count the minutes between where we left to when we stop. That way, if they decide to drop me off on the side of the road like a piece of trash, which I highly doubt, I can get with Esmé and catch the bastards.

I can just imagine all of the things that we would do to them. The fact that Esmé got hurt, the fact that Aaliyah was taken from her mother so young gets my blood boiling.

35 minutes or so later, by my account, the vehicle came to a stop. I would say that the idiots were gossiping the whole way, but these mother fūckers are smart. They have kept their mouths shut, meaning I won't be able to know exactly what they are doing, where we are going or what the hell they are taking us. The door opens and I am being pulled by my arm out of the car. I am trying to hold on tight to Aaliyah with my other arm.

“So, you two managed to keep him and the brat alive?” A voice I haven’t heard before resounds. I am trying to pick up on any noise from the outside. We are standing outside; I can feel the heat of the sun on my head. I feel as if I was suffocating, but I know better than to say anything.

“Yes, sir.” One of the two morons answered, as they nudged me forward.

“Remove the cover.” He demands. The pillowcase is lifted off of my head. I close my eyes, as I let them adjust slowly to the sun. First thing I look at is Aaliyah, making sure that she is fine and is still sleeping in my arms… She is. Then I averted my eyes to the mystery man. Our eyes meet and I make sure that I process each and every single line on his face.

He looks to be in his mid-thirties, and most likely Hispanic. He is about six feet, two inches and about two hundred pounds, not a small guy at all. I could say I know who the hell he is, but I do not.

“You are?” I ask, my molars grinding. I am trying to stay rooted to my spot and trying my best to use my peripheral vision to search for my surroundings. It looks like we are standing between a lot of offices or storage units. There are about four black SUVs behind him, all haphazardly parked and, of course, bulletproofed. There are about ten men with bulletproof vests and riffles on their hands and sporting their clear earpieces in their ears, a clear indication that there were more. They were rounding the cars, while searching and scoping the area.

“Last time I checked, I was the one that was holding you hostage. I ask the questions.” He spat out, crossing his hands on his front and taking a wide stance. All I can do is grind my molars; at this rate I won’t have any.

“Talk to me about your boss.” He demanded; I am not sure what exactly he wanted to know. If you were to kidnap someone’s child, the first thing you would do is do research on the person.

“What do you want to know?” I played the part that he was trying to play, dumb. He smirked then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t play stupid, cabron.” He gritted, his hands turning into fists. Oh, so he is definitely Spanish.

“Sir, I am not trying to play stupid. There is a lot to know about her. I just want to know what exactly you want to know. She is a woman that loves revenge, that much I can tell you.” I smirked, knowing full well that is exactly what Esmé was doing. If I was standing out here, it is most likely because he was going to use us two as leverage, or he might kill me and then use Aaliyah as leverage.

“Well, let's see how well that goes for her.” He motioned his head toward one of the men that once again grabbed me by my arm and almost dragged me to where he was, almost waking Aaliyah up. I could hear the distant sound of tires screeching on the pavement and the smell of rubber burning. It was not when I turned around that I saw the one person that I knew was on her way.

I don’t think I have ever been happier to see her black G-Class SUV. The driver's door opens and out she climbs. Why is she alone? Why is she not wearing her bulletproof vest? Where are Mason and Javier? What the actual fūck is going on! All of these thoughts are running through my head, our eyes meet for one second, but she knows what I am thinking without even saying the words. Two things could happen today, either a blood bath or I being dragged back out again with Aaliyah. I am looking for the first option.

“Well, here I am.” Esmé grins, standing up straight and in-front of her assailant, the man that turned what was supposed to be one of her happiest days into one of the worse days. Once again, something that he will dearly pay for.

“I must say, the pictures do you no justice.” He said as he rounded her, her expression not giving anything away. He grabbed a piece of her long hair and inhaled it. Fūcking Psychopath. I am sure Mason will have fun cutting his hand off when all this is over. Once again, no expression from her. Her eyes were locked on mine. I could tell she wanted to rip them to shreds but she couldn’t make a move without calculating all the scenarios first.

“What do you want?” She asked, sounding irritated at this encounter. I knew she was dying to get her hands on her daughter, and he was the only one that was preventing that.

“Revenge.”