Page 41 of When Sinners Rise
“Abe-” I try speaking or pulling in another breath from somewhere. No air comes. I hit the ground with my hands, trying to tap out like I did when Dante, Knox and Elias taught me to fight. Nothing. The pressure builds behind my eyes, the blood rushing to my face, and my mouth opens and closes in desperation for help. But I can’t make a sound.
And those fucking eyes keep glaring at me.
“You feel that? That’s death come calling,” he says. I try for a breath again. He just keeps staring. “You should rememberwho keeps you protected from it.” The weight of his knee presses deeper, crushing my windpipe down before finally disappearing completely.
I gulp and gasp for air as he gets up, coughing and spluttering on the floor. It barely works, and I roll myself to all fours to pull in every ounce of air I can get. “Might wanna remember who can help you on your way to hell, too.”
As if I didn’t know that already.
By the time I’m up and breathing again, he’s back at his side of the table and eating again. He looks at me pacing the room and keeps his stare fixed until he looks at the chair opposite him. I don’t need the words. I’m to sit like he first instructed. Looks like that round of who owns you is fucking done, and I was too weak to win it.
Battered, bruised and self-conscious of my still lowered position, I sit and look at the table.
“Dante is leaving intwo daysfor New York. You’ll go with him.” I nod like a fucking whore, as he carries on reeling off my life for me. I’ve got an apartment there, all ready for me to live a new life and be some second in command to Dante until Knox gets there.I should be happy with that, grateful. In fact, given my constant want for that side of this business rather than the other, I should be on cloud nine. Nothing but fighting, fucking, bringing order and killing? Yeah, that’s me through and through. I’m not riding some cloud, though. I’m desolate, ashamed, and fucking unnerved about that beating I just took because of my own opinions and thoughts.
Alone, is what I am. On my own.
My thoughts go to Miri back there in her cell as he keeps talking. She’s alone, too, now. Made that way because of me and my actions. I might have been sent there to get her, but it was my own weak ass that couldn’t make a call before it was too late for her.
“Where is Knox?” I ask quietly.
He pushes his plate away and stands to head for the refrigerator. “Here and there. He’ll be in New York if he can be, and contactable. Until then, it’s just you and Dante.” I nod again, not even bothering to push for more information on that cryptic answer.
A bottle of soda lands in front of me, and he remains standing behind me. “You answer a goddamn call next time I make one to you, you hear? You answer or you text to tell me why you’re not answering. Last fucking chance. You might want to thank your brothers, too. It’s them that talked me out of another ending here. I won't be talked around again.”
Footsteps sound, and within seconds, I’m alone, and he’s gone.
I sit a while longer, sighing to myself, drinking my soda, and wallowing in my own pitiful existence. No one sees it outwardly. They see the girls, the money and the lifestyle around our business, but being at the bottom of this pile of viciousness isn’t all it seems. Maybe one day, when they’re all dead and gone, I’ll be me. Maybe then I’ll be able to find out who that guy inside me who questions them actually is.
Eventually, I pull my beaten ass up and head back to the car.
Driving takes me to the airstrip for my own vehicle, and I end up driving back to the holding facility to give Mariana her keys back. Guess Kai will take her for her car later, or I will. Whatever.
Parking up outside, I stare at the barren wasteland around me. I’m angry, in pain, and confused as hell, with myself mostly. My tongue runs over my lips, and the copper-tang stays heavy on my tongue. I pull the visor down and look at myself. Cracked lip, swollen cheek. A low, exhausted laugh rumbles through me as I lean back on the headrest. No one understands– no one wants to talk about it, either. Maybe it’s just me. Runt of the litter. Fuck, even Mariana’s got a higher pay grade than me these days.
I should just drink. In fact, maybe it would be better if I wasn’t even here on this planet. I wouldn’t think then. Wouldn’t question shit. Wouldn’t have to.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MIRI
Isit and try to block out the sounds. They’re the same as what I hear in my nightmares – in my daydreams as well. Hoping that sound would never reach my ears again, I recognise one of the voices barking commands, reprimanding, and yelling. It wasn’t a nice time in my life, and although part of me tries to do everything possible to forget, a part of my mind refuses to. I still remember her pristine look and the smug, self-righteousness that followed her around. She only had that because she had the Cortez muscle behind her, but it was enough to terrify me.
And all I can do now is see her standing in front of me again.
And all I can feel is Elias’ eyes following me around the room. And all I can remember is trying to focus on Naja and ignore everything else that was happening.
I listen for other familiar voices, even though, in my heart, I’m doubtful she’s even here. What did Shaw say? Shouldn’t have trusted a Cortez? Well yeah. But what choice did I have?
He seemed so lost, almost resigned to some extent. Although, he still offered me food and drink, like having that would make up for the fact that I’m here and locked back in a cell with no idea of where Naja is.
After everything, I can’t let this be my fate.
I can’t let this be it.
And, as much as I might hate the idea, Shaw is the only option. He’s the link in this mess that I can use, maybe. Manipulate, play him like he played me.
I think back to Naja and what she told me, how she used Jackson. God, I must need my head examined for thinking this, but we had a connection, even if it makes me want to shove my fingers down my throat and vomit that sentiment right now.
