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Two hits, then three.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, love.
She’ll never forgive me for this. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.
I swing a left hook into her side several inches lower than where Broderick punched her and she lunges forward with a curse.
The fabric stifles her pained groan.
Time slows down.
I pull her up close after the fourth hit and grip the chair in my hands. She’s struggling to draw breath through the fabric in her mouth, her chest heaving and her eyes dull with pain. “Piece of shit cops like you make me sick,” I force myself to say, my jaw clenched.
Using my body as a shield, I hurry to loosen the knot at her right wrist. So subtly I don’t even think she knows what I’ve done. Right before I tilt the chair with her in it, letting it drop sideways and slam down to the floor. Her skull cracks against the cement and bounces slightly.
“Don’t you know there’s nothing good in this world to fight for? Why even try?” I ask her, hoping my performance is convincing.
“Enough.” Horn-Rimmed slashes his arm sideways through the air. “I’ve seen enough.”
Layla is bloodied. The skin beneath her left eye is already swollen and red. A few more hours and she’ll have one hell of a shiner. The gash on her cheek will need to be tended where I’ve split it open and I wouldn’t be surprised if some of Broderick’s punches to her torso result in cracked ribs.
Forgive me.
“I’ve got more for you,” I tell them.
Broderick, that bastard, just grins. “Spill.”
Information. Their favorite currency.
“The real thorn in your side is Jade, the owner of the Velvet Underground. She knows that I know she’s involved in whatever shit is jeopardizing our operation. My guess? She’s been trying to establish a rival drug circuit. She’s the one we want,” I reply, wiping my bloody knuckles on the front of my pants.
My boss cracks his neck. “Then I guess you know what to do,” he says.
“What do we do with her?” Horn-Rimmed asks, gesturing to Layla.
Broderick laughs before he turns to me. “Gabriel knows. We don’t have to ask those kinds of questions.”
There’s no room to breathe. They’re leaving her fate in my hands. It’s too soon for me to breathe yet. Too soon to think I’ve won any inch of ground.
“I’ll let her bleed a little longer before I take care of things here.”
My boss laughs again and his lackey picks up the briefcase as they head outside together. “She won’t be any more trouble now,” the latter finishes.
I don’t relax until I hear the sound of doors slamming and vehicles driving away. We’re almost out of this. One more step and then comes the hardest part: getting Layla to accept a new arrangement, as if I haven’t just demolished every inch of hard-won trust between us.
TWENTY-SEVEN
layla
“But Daddy!”
“Count up to 100, my girl, and time me. I’ll be back before you’re done.”
My father’s voice fades in my head and the silence of the open warehouse is welcoming. The cool floor sends shivers through my beaten body and the pain is a dull and constant throbbing. My face feels like I’ve pressed it into a meat grinder and gone to town.
Holy shit.
My teeth feel loose and I swipe my tongue along first the top row and then the bottom, tangling with the cloth. Breathing hurts, my lungs feel shriveled, my tongue swollen two sizes too large…
