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Kenzo…fuck, Kenzo. It will kill him if I die. He already lost his mum, and he’s got such a caring heart, even if you don’t always see it. When he loves, he loves hard. He’s all in.
Ryder will blame himself. He thinks it’s his job to protect everyone, to see everything coming, but he’s only human. It won’t stop him from hating himself however.
Garrett is so close to the edge anyway, this might push him over. My scarred enforcer will become lost in his demons until it gets him killed.
So no, I can’t die here, because it might break them, make them weak, and let the Triad kill them. I refuse to be the reason they die. I refuse to die myself.
As soon as I realise that, calm settles in my bones. I’m not fucking dying here. If I’m going to die, it will be surrounded by my men with a gun in my hand and a smile on my face. I need to tell them I love them.
The door opens, and Andrew strolls in, followed by Baldie. Shit, okay, it’s torture time. I’ve survived worse, I can survive this. I keep telling myself that as I tilt my head back and offer them a smile. “Hello, boys, my safe word is bubbles, by the way.”
“You won’t need a safe word,” Baldie jokes.
“I bet you say that to all the girls, probably why you don’t get past the first date.” I grin.
Mohawk, Andrew, laughs. “She’s not wrong.”
Baldie steps towards me and slams the gun into my stomach, making me puff out a breath. When I can finally breathe again, I grin. “Damn, boy, don’t you know how to play? You gotta start soft, get them all warmed up for you. You don’t just slam your piece in hoping for the best.” I look over at Andrew. “Who’s the newb? Do you bring him around like one of those women with chihuahuas in their purses?”
He bursts out laughing and glances over at Baldie, whose whole head is turning red. I watch with sick fascination as it crawls along his shiny head. “Do you wax that? Like, do you buff it too, like polishing floors? ’Cause it’s hella shiny—”
This time, he smashes the gun into my aching shoulder. A grunt escapes my lips from the sudden blast of pain, and I try to curl into it to protect it. I learned when I was young that eventually, everyone screams, it might spur them on, but honestly, people only don’t scream in the movies. Oh, a knife in your gut? Let me just stay silent, it doesn’t work that way. But there are two ways you can play it—you can let them destroy you, break you down, or you can use it against them.
Flip the narrative, be unexpected.
That’s what I do. When I can breathe without crying, I wink at him. “Is your nob bald too?”
He slams his gun into my other shoulder, and I feel a crack, goddamn bitch. “Motherfucking bald bitch,” I snarl. “That ain’t no way to treat a lady.”
“You ain’t no fucking lady, you whore, you’re a dead woman walking.”
It goes silent then, and I look over at Andrew. “This is super awkward, ’cause I’m not walking. Do you think he gets all his lines from bad action movies?”
This time Andrew stops him. “Franny, enough,” he snaps. “She’s mine, you’re here for muscle.”
I hold in my laughter for as long as I can, which is all of thirty seconds, then I laugh so hard, a bit of pee comes out. “Oh my God, your name is Franny? Holy shit, no wonder you’ve got anger issues, poor Franny!” I howl.
Baldie growls and comes towards me, but Andrew slides in front of him and, for a moment, I see why he’s the torturer. Anger flickers across his face, and he seems to grow larger. Baldie, aka Franny, backs down, swearing as he turns away, and then Andrew relaxes, slouching again and grinning like he hasn’t got a care in the world.
But I’ve seen it now, what he hides underneath. The true Andrew, he likes pain, he likes it to hurt, this should be…fucking horrible.
Andrew turns and shrugs. “Behave, he might kill you.”
“Yeah, that ain’t gonna work. People have been telling me to behave since I was a kid, and look where I am.” I shrug in an ‘aww shucks’ type way as he heads over to a tray and sets out his equipment. “So tell me, how long have you been doing this?”
“Oh, a few years,” he replies, as he picks up a scalpel.
“Get a lot of customers?” I inquire calmly.
He steps before me with a cruel smile. “You’re a strange one, do you know that? Never mind, they all bleed red.”
“How freaked would you be if my blood came out blue now?” I laugh, but it turns into a groan. I grind my teeth as he slashes across my face, a light cut, but enough that I feel blood drip down my cheek. “Motherfucker, that’s the goddamn money maker, kid.”
“Apologies.” He nods and drags the blade down my arm. “Is that better?”
“Much, thanks. Don’t fuck up my tats, though, or Garrett will be pissed, and last time he had to tattoo me…well, let’s just say it was a happy ending all around.”
Andrew grins. “Of course.” He starts to slice the knife across the top of my feet, and I let out a little scream which has Baldie laughing.
