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It doesn’t take long for Saint to come barging in after me.
“Calm down man,” Saint says shifting closer to me placing a hand on my shoulder but I shrug it off.
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down, Saint. You’re not the one who lost his entire fucking family. Who had to watch each coffin be lowered into the dirt. And you’re not the one who just was fucking lied to.”
His eyes flash backing away from me. He needs to leave before he gets hurt. Before I take all my anger out on my best friend.
“I had to bury my family as well, Caleb, so you don’t get to stand there and tell me that I don’t know what it fucking feels like.”
He’s right. If anyone knows what this pain feels like its him.
“Twenty-one. Twenty fucking one, Saint. This is too far.” I yell, lifting the bottle of whiskey I bought earlier and fire it across the room were it smashes into wall with a loud crash.
Saint holds up his hands, “Easy brother. Easy.”
Take it easy? Is he for fucking real? Does he not understands what just happened down there?
“Don’t tell me to take it easy. I just lost my entire fucking life like it’s been washed away like dirt in a flood, only to be told this.”
“And what am I? Am I not your family? We always talked about ruling together. Now we get to do it as equals, with you as my brother the way it should be.”
“That’s your life Saint not mine. I don’t want to be a mob boss; I don’t want to be married to someone I don’t get to choose for myself. I don’t want any part in sex trafficking, prostitution, or drugs and I don’t want to have to be at your dad’s beck and call for the rest of my fucking life.”
His jaw clenches. “Keep your fucking voice down; do you want Lexy to hear?”
I shrug uncaring baring my teeth. “Why the fuck not. Let the poor girl know exactly who her mother’s just fucking married. A double-crossing son of a bitch that’s who.”
“That’s enough.”
“It’s the truth isn’t it? I did everything he fucking asked of me. Everything! He broke our deal not me.”
“Deal? What deal are you talking about?” he asks hesitantly.
I flop down on the edge of the bed elbows on knees fisting my hair.
“The deal he and I made two years ago when he found out about her Dementia. He said that if I didn’t work for him social services would find out about nanna’s diagnoses and would put her in a care home. I didn’t care if I ended up in the foster care system, but I couldn’t do that to her. I wouldn’t no matter the cost.”
A look of confusion crosses his face before turning red with anger.
“Dementia? Nanna had Dementia? And you kept this from me, and for two fucking years? Why didn’t you tell me?” he yells.
“Because you don’t know what he made me do Saint.” I yell back.
“What are you talking about, Caleb? What things?”
“Do you even know how Owl got his name? Do you even know what part he plays in your dad’s organisation? No, I bet you don’t.”
“What does Owl have to do with any of this?”
“He’s the one that takes them, The girls. Some as young as thirteen, Saint. Fucking thirteen years old. He waits until the cover of darkness, silent and deadly, watching them. Then he takes them to be sold to the highest bidder for your father.”
“How do you know this?”
“Because he made me go with them to do it. Now I have to fucking live with it, but I won’t do it for another three years. I can’t. I won’t.”
“You should have told me.”
“Why? What difference would it have made? You would have had a gun pressed down your throat the same way I did.”
