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She licks her lips, her eyes locked on yet another wound on his skin. Her smile grows when he screams, begging for mercy.
He isn’t to the point that he’s begging for me to just end his life, but he’s getting closer by the minute.
I knew ten minutes ago the man wasn’t going to disclose any information, but he’s been fun to play with regardless. It’s likely he’s one of the new hires and honestly doesn’t know anything of substance, but he signed his own death warrant when he stuck that needle in Alani’s neck. He was as good as dead then.
I’ve been hurting people since before I graduated high school. Although we were required to hurt people, we weren’t allowed to take a life until our initiation into the Severino family. I think about Marcello and Alessio every time I carve someone up. Alessio was an evil bastard, but he was a skilled teacher. I hate that I didn’t get the chance to show the man everything he taught me before he died. I dreamed of carving those lessons onto his skin more times than I could ever count.
“I don’t know anything!” he screams, his voice holding the hint that he’s nearing the begging-for-death stage of the evening.
“Do you want to help?” I ask, holding the bloody knife in her direction.
She looks from me to the knife twice, her throat working on a swallow, but then she surprises me by stepping forward with her hand outstretched.
She freezes, only a few inches short of accepting the knife, before looking back at the man.
“It’s not my vengeance to seek,” she says, her hand falling back down by her side.
I drop the knife back onto the cluttered table of torture implements and head out of the room.
I feel her follow me, that energy arcing between us just as strong as it has ever been.
She doesn’t say anything as I step up to the kitchen sink and wash my hands. She doesn’t ask me where I’ve been or how she ended up here or how the man ended tied up. She doesn’t get angry and ask why I didn’t step in before he drugged her.
She’s silent, including her not telling me that she missed me.
My heart is pounding in my chest, but it’s not because it’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I’ve watched her every chance I could when I haven’t been working. Honestly, I’ve only been taking jobs from Angel that involve Cortez. Although there are tons of people who’d want to harm pretty girls like Alani, I know that man and his crew in particular has her in their sights. She’ll never be safe, but she’s almost guaranteed to be in trouble so long as they’re still in operation.
I knew the second she walked into the room, shocked to see me standing there, that I’ve done a good job of hiding. I was glad to see that she’s calmed down since coming back to her sister’s house, but it came at the expense of that light in her eyes which was always so appealing. It’s probably what drew me to her the most, and I hate seeing it gone.
The last two months, she’s seemed like someone who feels like they have nothing to live for, as if she’s just been going through the motions, and that doesn’t bode well for the rest of her life. She should be having fun in safe ways at nineteen, not looking like a beat-down woman who doesn’t have her entire adult life ahead of her.
She pulls out a chair from the small dining room table and takes a seat as I pull out my phone.
I keep my eyes on her as I make a call.
“Nash,” I grunt when he answers.
Her eyes narrow as if she thinks I’m ratting her out or calling him to come pick her up.
That would be the status quo. I’ve always been quick to put physical distance between the two of us. Being near her forces walls I’ve spent years building to crumble, and I hate the vulnerability of it. I’ve accepted that she means more to me than she should, but I also know the danger and impossibility of it all as well.
“I’ve got a present for your woman,” I tell him, keeping my eyes on the younger Warren sister.
“Yeah?” he says into the phone, his voice filled with agitation. “We’re getting ready to look for Alani. She didn’t come home from her shift at the—”
“Then I’ve got two presents for you,” I amend. “Didn’t know if you or her wanted to unwrap it yourself.”
“I think we’d like that,” he says. “Location B?”
“That’s the one.”
“Think you can hold off opening it up for half an hour?”
“I’ll do my best,” I say and end the call.
The man screams for help as if there’s anyone here that can save him, and it draws Alani’s eyes from mine. Instead of looking back toward me for help, she stands from the table, takes her time pushing the chair back under it, and walks down the hallway.
