Page 42 of Kingpin

“I’m fine! I’m okay!”

The enforcer cocked his gun. “Not for long, you’re not.”

I heard something break downstairs, and my blood froze in my veins.

Holy fuck, we are officially outmatched.

I scrambled to get away from the man pointing his gun at me, but no matter where I looked, I was boxed in. I looked over at Israel and saw him choking the man trying to attack him. I heard more crashing downstairs when bootsteps hurtled up the stairs. As I scrambled to my feet, I held the gun out in front of me.

“Don’t take another step,” I ordered.

“Shoot him!” Israel exclaimed.

“Mr. Moretti only wants one answer to one question,” the enforcer said.

I cocked my gun. “Make it quick.”

“Damn it, Bonnie. Take him out!” Israel roared.

The footsteps down the hall grew closer, and I knew we didn’t have much time before both of us were dead.

The enforcer smiled. “Was it his dick that rattled your allegiance? Or the fact that he has more money?”

I snickered. “Joke’s on you, he doesn’t let me touch his money.”

I went to squeeze the trigger before the bedroom door slammed open. Before I could register what was happening, I got knocked to the floor. The gun fell just beyond my hand, and I scrambled to get to it. I dug my nails into the carpet, feeling them break away from my hand as blood trails soaked into the expensive material.

“Israel!” I exclaimed.

I heard someone gurgling, but I didn’t hear his voice.

“Israel, say something!” I yelped.

Panic surged through my veins. Why wasn’t he talking to me? Why wasn’t he saying something? Damn it, why weren’t we already dead? The weight on top of me grew heavier as someone pinned my neck to the floor. I felt something press between my legs as tears rushed my eyes.

“Don’t. No. Please. I can’t take it again. Please. Israel, help me!”

Chaos ensued as so many other sounds filled my ears. Splintering glass. Crunched wood. Something akin to plaster breaking. Tears raced down my cheeks as someone grabbed my legs, pulling me farther away from my gun. The weight on my back lifted, but the pain in my hands was unmistakable. As I clawed at the carpet, it did me no good.

Because someone still pulled me out of the room.

“Israel!” I shrieked.

I watched as he threw a punch into the face of one of the enforcers. Then another jumped his back. Why didn’t I take the fucking shot? Why hadn’t I listened to him? He’s going to die because of me.

We’re both about to die because of me.

You’re weak.

“Israel, no,” I said through my sobs.

Blood trails from my fingers stained the entire hallway. The grip on my ankles grew tighter as tears blurred my vision. I couldn't think of anything else other than shouting the words that came to mind. The only words that I knew would get us out of the situation.

“Kill them, Israel! Kill them all!”

Because at that point, I had no more allegiance to that family. As a random man dragged me down the hallway and into the bedroom I once occupied, I finally realized my position. My uncle didn’t love me. That my family didn’t see me as their own. They saw me as disposable. Someone else to use and abuse and throw to the wolves once my purpose was served. So many questions lanced through my mind. Was that always the plan? Had my uncle always seen my purpose like that?

Had the plan always been to eliminate mewithIsrael?

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