The Innocent Target

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Fixing his suit, he ran fingers through his hair, setting them straight. He wore his shoulder holster and tucked his gun under his arm, under his blazer. His weapons were set on it and the last thing he needed were his shoes. He'd just put them on when the vase in his room popped apart. Then the glass painting by the bathroom. There were two holes in his bedroom's window. Someone was shooting blindly. He ducked and ran out of his room. His apartment was filled with men and his jaw clenched. They all pointed guns at him and in the middle was Frank Morris with a sly grin and a tilted head.

"Lovely home, Carsozza." He spoke with hands in the pant pockets of his black suit.

"Made yourself comfortable already?" He nodded.

"Well, it won't be yours too long now, is it? Dead owners don't get to take their homes to hell." He snickered. Vincent rolled his eyes as one of the men came and kicked his knee. He fell down and then another came. Both held each arm and twisted it behind him. He was only doing this for her. Odette. Frank had been keeping an eye on her since she survived and the last threat he got was yesterday with a picture of her, sitting in a pair of shorts and a big t-shirt he recognized to be his, doing something on her laptop in her apartment in New York. Threat was that if he didn't give himself up in the next twenty-four hours, Odette would be down for sure this time. He could take each of these men out right then but Arnold Morris wasn't in the room. Even if he managed to kill Frank, Arnold would burn Odette to the ground and he wasn't about to let her suffer. She'd had enough of this already. She'd been gone a week and he felt confused as to why he felt broken at the idea that when he would come home now, there won't be someone available to annoy him or give him ideas or... making that amazing burger she used to. After she left, he realized how much he'd gotten used to her in such a short time.

"Good for you." Vincent sighed.

"You know, I knew you liked that little minx." Frank grinned, "Oh, she is beautiful, isn't she? So sweet, not to mention naive." Frank was trying to pull at his nerves, "When I kissed her, oh, I felt that... excitement. I was willing to let her live." He nodded, "But then she changed her mind. Said she couldn't do it. I wondered why but I could tell." He pursed his lips, "I'm a bit of a romantic, sue me."

Vincent looked away at the floor, not interested in any of this bullshit.

"She loved you." He cackled and Vincent refrained from showing any reaction. He knew Frank would draw this crap out to boggle his mind. He'd prepared himself to ignore the long story he would tell before putting him down, "Perfect romance, isn't it? I asked. I kept asking. She had a devil on her shoulder. I could tell. Mmm, which made her more enticing than ever." He bit his lip and moaned.

Vincent rolled his eyes.

"So, I had my fun. Fed her some good pudding with a kick off of strychnine in it. She ate but didn't finish the platter, or I swear I would've sent a beautifully wrapped body in a bow."

"Should've done that." He spoke with a clenched jaw, "I wouldn't have had to hear your bullshit right now."

"I'm going to kill you." Frank smiled, "Put you down like the rabid dog you are, who should have no business existing, especially when daddy made sure his whore of a mother doesn't either!"

Vincent refrained from showing any response but his heart had dropped. His mother? How was she involved in any of this? Especially with Morris.

"Don't hide it. I can see it. I can see that anger. That confusion. Oh, that agony when I found out that he killed my mama too. That asshole."

Vincent looked away.

"Get him to the car." He ordered the men. Three pulled him up and made him walk with cuffed hands in front of him and guns pointed at him. He walked with as much dignity as possible, following them down the fire exit and into the parking basement. Three cars stood in a line. One SUV, and two Mercedes, one on each side. He was guided into the SUV with Frank in the front seat and two men, in the back with him. The back door opened and another man crawled in. The Mercedes in front of the SUV started and then the line formed out of the building. He sat with his head low, not really bothering to fight or give a flying shit about anything. This was either his end or if Morris was on the other side waiting for him; their's.