Page 7 of Waging War
Jackie glances between the two of us, hand still extended. “Are we agreed?”
Kenneth sighs heavily. “The Wolves have been through enough and so has Hazel. If I agree to do this, I want my family removed from the both of you and Diablo for good. The alliance ends when we do the switch.”
“Fucking hell,” I mutter, raising my eyes to the ceiling.
Jackie considers the man a moment before nodding. “Alright then. You and your gang will be on your own. No more interference from us.”
Kenneth looks like he wants to make good on his promise to gut us, but eventually, he agrees, clasping Jackie’s hand.
Jackie’s gray eyes size me up, waiting for a response.
He’s making a mistake, but if he wants to deny having our alliance in his arsenal when Diablo makes a move for the Wolves—and he will—then he’ll have to live with that decision.
I reach for the man’s hand, squeezing it firmly as we solidify our arrangement. “Agreed.”
CHAPTERTHREE
Hazel
Thunk.
“Take that, you rotten bastard.”
Another butter knife sloppily sinks into the drywall of my living space. I scoff. I’d love to call this shithole my home, but that’d be a touch too generous.
“Ugh.” Grunting, I send another one flying and smile like a crazed woman. I admire the artful way my collage of knives juts out like a porcupine’s quills.
Flopping down onto my purple yoga mat, I pound out sit-ups until my abdomen screams and sweat drips down my temples. The only thing that would sweeten this situation is Mayor Williams waltzing through my door. What I wouldn’t give to be able to take some frustration out on that snake. I’d find it morbidly entertaining to watch him beg for mercy if I ever got my hands on him. I can almost feel the weight of my knife pressing against his throat.
“Bad, Hazel,” I pant between reps. “No murdering.”
There are no friends here to play a round of pool against and no family to share funny stories with. There’s not even a damn dog to talk to, and judging by the number of times I conversate with myself a day, I think I’m right on track to steadily lose my mind.
I flip onto my stomach and roll right into my push up routine. The only bonus to being completely cut off from the world has been building up my strength and endurance. I work out every single day, waiting for an opportunity to escape.
Training and forcing myself to stay sharp is the perfect distraction; it’s almost enough to help me forget the bloody mess my father was that night and that Mayor Williams has been keeping tabs on me.
With my biceps burning, I push myself through the haunting memory of being held against one of Diablo’s men while I thrashed and struggled to escape.
Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…
An unwanted thought whispers through my mind, and I think about the conversation I had with Juliana before we were taken from Lucky’s. The one where I confessed to being assaulting by Victor, the Wolves’ old VP.
He was the last man to pin me in such a way, and it didn’t end well for him.
Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine…I mentally keep track of my reps as the cold bite of Jackie’s Glock still tingles the back of my head so many weeks later.
“No,” I whisper. These visions can’t continue to consume me, but they hot-wire my brain even as I push against them, and there he is. My dad breaking free from beside Jack and running straight toward me.
Bang.
Even now, I can hear his shocked grunt and see his widened eyes trained on me just before he fell.
Clear droplets fall sporadically onto the mat, but all I can see is the blood from that night—sticky and deep red.It takes several heartbeats and a few more exhales to realize that they’re tears. Unable to fight any longer, I flop into their salty wetness and release great, heart-wrenching sobs.
“He’s gone.”
My cries finally quiet as I curl into a fetal position. I can’t decide which hurts worse, losing my mom or my dad. It’s been years since she passed, but losing Dad dredges up all the pain I once buried, leaving me hollow and lost.
