Charming Savage (Cinder Crew: Mafia Fairytale Retellings)

13. Thirteen Chris

Thirteen: Chris

I leaned against the cold concrete wall, a cigarette dangling from my lips, smoke filling the room in a haze. Fuck, what a mess.

Shit. I flicked ash to the floor. Gotta keep her safe now.

Annie and Izzy, those bitches, they were just as twisted as the old hag that spawned them. Grew up with silver spoons shoved so far down their throats, they choked on their own venom. Watching them over the years, taking what they wanted, hurting people for sport... it was no fucking surprise they turned out rotten.

When I put them down, it was like squashing a pair of roaches—no remorse. The crunch of bone, the spill of blood—it was therapeutic. When they touched Ella, when their filthy hands marred her skin, something inside me snapped.

They deserved it. And more.

I crushed the butt under my boot, sparks dying out like the lives I've ended. Well, I guess I gotta find us a way out of here. Figure out the safe house situation. Time to be the villain playing hero. Fuck, if this ain't a twisted fairy tale, then nothing is.

I grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her out the room. "We have to move."

"Wait. What? Where are we going?"

"Away from here. Now. Ella, I'm not playing. If anyone saw what just happened, we're going to die."

She sharply inhaled. "Do you have a plan?"

"Nope, not really. Just get the fuck out of here first, and then we can stop and plan more, later."

Ella's whimpers echoed in the dank air as I steered her through the dimly lit corridor. There are guards up ahead. And they won't go down without a fight.

"Just stay quiet," I grunted, feeling her small hand clutching at the fabric of my jacket.

The dungeon was a cesspool, the kind even rats would turn their noses up at. I smiled remembering how my blade found its home in the soft give of Annie and Izzy's flesh. They crumbled, bodies limp, eyes wide with the shock of betrayal. Not a single fuck given as I wiped my blade clean on Izzy's designer dress.

"Almost there. Keep close, and be quiet."

Up ahead, the henchmen loomed like gargoyles, muscles taut beneath black shirts, guns strapped to their sides. Fuckers thought they were tough shit, guarding this pit of sins. Their eyes tracked the shadows, unaware of the storm about to hit.

"Stay behind me," I whispered, hand tightening over the handle of my knife.

One step, two steps—my heart pounded a rhythm of impending violence. The first goon glanced my way, and in the blink of an eye, my blade danced across his throat. Blood sprayed—a crimson rainbow painting the walls. He dropped without a scream, a gurgling mess on the floor.

"Fuck," Ella breathed.

"Shh," I hissed, dragging her along.

The second one turned, eyes wide, reaching for his piece. Too slow. I swung my fist and connected with his face. My knife found him next, sinking deep, twisting in the gut. A shove, and he joined his buddy on the ground, clutching his belly, trying to keep his insides from spilling out.

"Chris," her voice trembled, but her feet kept pace.

"Keep moving." I didn't look back, just pushed forward, every sense on high alert. The exit beckoned, freedom just beyond the stink and the filth. I could taste it on my tongue, sweet and sharp. Priscilla wouldn't take long to figure out what the hell happened. At least I had been smart enough not to hook the surveillance cams up to her personal security system. That meant I bought us a day, maybe two at the most.

We slipped past the fallen guards, their last breaths rattling in their chests. No mercy, no regret.

A noise—a scrape, a cough—echoed in the distance. I froze, heart slamming against my ribcage, senses sharpened to razor edges. Ella pressed closer, her body warm against me.

"Shit," I whispered, scanning the dim light for movement.

"Chris?" Panic threaded her voice, but she didn’t break, didn't run. Fucking brave, my Ella.

"Shhh." I pulled us into a recess in the wall, shrouded by darkness. Waited, watched. One false step, one breath too loud, and it'd be a bloody endgame.

Nothing stirred. No follow-up sound. A trick of the mind or maybe dumb luck, either way, we needed to bolt before our time ran out.

"Go," I said, and we burst from cover, sprinting down the corridor, hearts racing in tandem with our feet. The exit loomed ahead, freedom a mere heartbeat away.

"Can't believe this is happening," she huffed out between breaths, her words clipped with adrenaline.

"Believe it." I couldn't help the grin that split my face. "You and me against the world now."

"Against Priscilla, you mean," she corrected, and I could hear the damn smile in her voice.

"Almost clear, sunshine." The night air brushed against our faces as we emerged from the bowels of hell. Her grip on me tightened, and for a moment, I allowed myself the fantasy that she might cling to me for more than just survival.

"Your car?" She squinted into the darkness, searching.

"Right here." I pointed to the sleek black Audi R8. "Our getaway chariot."

"Wow... this is quite something," she quipped.

"Perks of being paid well." I yanked open the passenger door, ushering her inside with a protective arm. "Get in."

"You mean perks of selling women to assholes who abuse us."

My knuckles tightened against the steering wheel. What could I say? She was right. The blood of those before her paid for the ride that would get her out of this mess.

"Let's tear up some asphalt," I said, throwing the car into gear. And just like that, we were gone.

The engine's purr settled into a steady thrum, a sweet fuckin' lullaby after the night's violent crescendo.

"Shit." Ella said. "You just... you took them down. All of them. I can't believe you did that."

"Yep."

"Where to now?" Her question came out a whisper.

"Anywhere but here." My grip on the steering wheel was ironclad. Afraid to loosen, afraid to let go, just in case this was all a dream. "Gonna drive until sunrise, put every shitty mile between us and that hellhole."

"Sunrise..." She murmured, leaning back against the seat, her gaze fixed on the blur of the passing streetlights. "Haven't seen one of those in a while."

The darkness swallowed us whole, the city limits a fading memory in the rearview. Priscilla's empire, that den of vipers and violence, slipped away with each mile, as did the man I'd been before Ella Trevaine crashed into my life like a fucking tornado.

"Chris?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Thank you... for everything."

"Save the thanks for when we're really out of this shitstorm." I kept my eyes on the road.

"Okay, then." Ella paused, her silhouette soft against the leather. "For what it's worth, I'm glad it's you behind the wheel."

"Wouldn't want it any other way." Gruff affection bled through the edges of my words.

We drove on, silence our companion as the city's chaos faded to nothing but a bitter aftertaste. Ahead lay the unknown, a challenge I'd take on with fists ready and this fierce, fucking radiant woman by my side.