Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
RAVEN
“ R aven?”
“Huh?” I asked, glancing up from my coffee to realize I’d zoned out. Ander frowned, scooting his chair closer to mine.
“I asked if you have work today. Are you still freaked out about last night?”
I took a mouthful of my coffee before putting it back on the table, meeting his gaze. “You killed him.”
“I killed Michael and Devon too.”
“That felt different. It was an intense situation. Last night was?—”
“You didn’t think I could kill someone silently without a fight breaking out first?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, making me shrug.
“I don’t know what I think.”
“I don’t take chances. Not with you or Zavier. The second he opened his mouth, I knew he was one of Stefano’s guys. They’re not defenseless men that you can talk out of killing you. They’re trained weapons who will do anything for Stefano. Hesitation is what gets people killed.”
“You didn’t even react though. Don’t you feel regret for killing someone who showed no sign of harming you?” I mumbled, my brow creasing as I stared at him.
He cupped my cheek, not shying away from my questions. It was the one thing I’d started to like about him. He was honest, no matter how dark things became.
“I won’t lie to you. I’m a bad person, Raven. I’ve killed a lot of people, and I feel nothing when I end a life. I wouldn’t be alive today if I hadn’t made the choices I have. I’ve clawed my way out of the pits of Hell to be here, and I will do anything to make sure nothing gets in the way of that. No one will hurt you, do you understand me?”
I nodded, leaning forward to rest my forehead on his. “I wish I was more like you. I’ve always been able to hold my own in a fight, but whenever there’s real danger, the guys step in and protect me. I want to know that I can protect myself.”
“You can, you’ve just gotten used to relying on others to keep you safe. I’ve seen you shoot, and I’ve seen you throw hands before. You’re a bad bitch, you just need to remember that,” he replied before pulling back. “You don’t want to become numb to the guilt like me because that’s a whole different kind of survival mode that I’d never wish on anyone.”
“Will you ever tell me why you ended up like this? Is it something to do with your sister? You spoke about her in past tense,” I said carefully, wincing when he looked away from me. “Sorry, I’ll drop it.”
“No, it’s okay. Yeah, what happened to my sister was the start of my survival mode. Maybe one day I’ll be able to talk about it, but I’m just not ready,” he murmured, getting to his feet and running his fingers through my hair. “So, work today? You didn’t answer me.”
I wasn’t going to push him, but I hoped he could confide in me eventually.
“Oh. No, not today. A lot of the kids have been placed in more permanent homes, and the older kids are easier to manage, so they don’t need me.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t go with Zavier to hang out with Logan.”
“Small steps. We’re not exactly best buddies again,” I grumbled, draining my coffee and standing. “What are your plans today?”
“I need to check in with some of my guys to get more info on Stefano. I need to pinpoint his whereabouts. I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone, but in case my men turn on me, I don’t want them near you. It’s unlikely, but all men can break in a torture chamber,” he warned.
The thought of being here alone after being broken into last night made me nervous.
“I’ll check in with Beckett to see if she’s busy. You could drop me off at hers, right?” I asked, relief filling his face.
“That’s a good idea. Call her, I’ll go shower.”
I grabbed my phone and found Beckett’s number, and it barely rang once before she answered.
“Are you being needy again?”
I chuckled, knowing she didn’t mind in the slightest. “Always. Everyone’s leaving me alone, and we had someone break in last night, so I was kind of hoping I could be a burden and hang out with you today. Ander’s leaving soon, so he can drop me off.”
“Who broke in?”
“One of Stefano’s men.”
She was quiet for a moment before answering. “Get Lavaro to drop you off at the Shed. There’s nothing going on here today, so we can talk in private.” Then she hung up before I could object.
She knew I hated the Shed.
If I wanted company, I had to get over it, so I headed to the bedroom to grab a hoodie, my eyes landing on the messy bed. My muscles ached at the memory of Ander and Zavier making me come over and over, and I couldn’t help but smile a little.
I barely remembered half of it, I’d practically blacked out from the pleasure, and Zavier had needed to help me shower this morning since my limbs wouldn’t work properly.
Eyeing Ander’s drawers across the room, I moved towards them and slid them open to find a hoodie, pulling one out that I’d seen him wear a lot of times. It smelled like him, and that stupid girly feeling washed over me as I pulled it over my head and let it hang off my small frame.
It was a little larger than the guys’ hoodies since he hadn’t been starved most of his life, and I felt tiny in it.
I loved it.
Once I had my shoes on and had tied my hair into a messy ponytail, Ander walked in and did a double take. I hadn’t thought that maybe he wouldn’t want me wearing his clothes, and I cringed.
“Sorry. I’ll take it off.”
“I like you wearing it,” he said slowly as if it confused him. “You should take photos in it and send it to the guys so they know I own your ass. Better yet, post it on your social media so everyone knows.”
I snorted, knowing he was joking. “Don’t taunt them. I don’t have apps on my phone anyway.”
“You don’t?”
“My phone’s too old,” I shrugged, holding up the extremely outdated device.
“That belongs in the museum,” he scoffed. “I’m buying you a new one.”
“Um, no, you’re not. I like my phone,” I argued, holding it to my chest as if he was going to snatch it away from me.
“Keep it for all I care, but you need a new one. You can’t even google your location if you get lost somewhere,” he said seriously.
“I don’t?—”
“Next time we go shopping, you’re getting one. End of story,” he said as he cut me off. “Where am I taking you? Beckett’s?”
Arguing was pointless since we weren’t going shopping today, so I sighed. “The Psychos Shed.”
“You hate that place.”
“I know, Beckett doesn’t care,” I deadpanned, following him from the room as he grabbed his keys.
Once in the car, he gave me a serious look. “Now, I know my car turns you on, but we don’t have time for a quickie today. I’m really sorry.”
“You’re so full of yourself.”
He smirked but didn’t say anything as he started backing out of the garage, heading towards Ashburn Valley.
My knee bounced nervously the closer we got to the Shed, and I could feel Ander’s eyes on me every so often.
Would the Psychos be hostile towards Ander when we arrived? I should’ve gotten him to drop me off down the road and walked the rest of the way.
I went to bail the second he stopped in front of the Shed, but his hand darted out to snag my wrist.
“I know you’re safe with Beckett, but call me if you need me,” he said firmly, scowling when I ignored him and tried to pull back. “Your hot and cold bullshit isn’t cute. I get it, you’re processing last night, but don’t shut me out over it.”
“You know I hate being manhandled. Let me go,” I growled, hating how my stomach tightened with anticipation as he released my wrist and grabbed my throat instead.
“You say you hate it, but it soaks your panties every time I do it,” he said in a low voice, leaning forward to nip my lower lip. “Enjoy girl time with Donovan, Bluebird.”
He kissed me and I kissed him back, some of the nerves simmering. It was dangerous how much I was relying on him.
I’d relied solely on the guys my entire life, and look how that had turned out?
I startled when I turned to open the door and found Beckett standing there with her arms crossed and a glare on her face.
She thankfully took a step back when I grabbed the handle.
“Morning, Beckett. Lovely to see you as always,” Ander called out, earning a snort of annoyance in return from her.
“Give me a reason, Lavaro.”
“My gun’s bigger than yours,” he joked, giving me a wink as I turned to give him a dirty look. “Right, Bluebird? Tell her all about it.”
“Ugh,” I huffed and shut the door to shut him up, hearing him laugh as he started backing out.
“I don’t want to know about his gun,” Beckett said flatly as we walked towards the door.
“Good. I don’t want to talk about it,” I replied, noticing how quiet it was. I’d been here a couple of times, and it had always been hectic with people everywhere. It was a ghost town today.
“So, tell me about the break in.”
I winced, knowing she was going to bring it up but hoping she’d talk about something else first so I could warm up to the conversation. Murder and dead bodies were just part of daily life to Beckett, but not to me.
“One of Stefano’s guys broke in when we were sleeping. I walked in as Ander shot him.”
“Haven’t seen a lot of dead bodies?”
“Before these past few weeks? Only my brother and that girl you killed last year,” I mumbled, remembering how Logan had been part of luring her into a secluded place. I’d almost thrown up for us being involved, let alone seeing the body. “Now I’ve seen mafia lackeys and rapists drop.”
“The good news is if they keep dropping at this rate, you’ll be used to it in no time,” she joked, sitting at the empty bar and turning to face me as I sat on a stool beside her. “The guy last night came alone?”
“It seems so. Ander checked outside and had people come and clean up the body. No one else was around. Is that normal? I thought if they’d come to kill me and Zavier that there would be a few of them.”
“Sending one person can be easier sometimes. They don’t see you guys as a physical threat, so they’d underestimate you. Did he say anything?”
I hesitated, not knowing how much to tell her. Ander wasn’t a bad guy, but the fluent second language had thrown me off a little.
He hadn’t struggled to understand the guy at all, and as much as I didn’t know any Italian, Ander’s words had been said with confidence.
“He spoke in Italian. Did you know Ander was fluent? They were having a whole conversation before I interrupted them,” I finally said carefully, a little relieved when she shrugged casually and didn’t seem bothered.
I was overreacting.
“I didn’t, but it makes sense if he’s been working with them for a while. It would be stupid not to understand the language if those around him spoke it. He’s close with the mafia prince, right?”
“Yeah, he said Dante taught him some things.”
“I don’t trust Ander, but I really don’t trust Dante. Ander might think he’s loyal to him because they formed a friendship, but mafia kids aren’t just trained, their obedience is beaten into them to turn them into monsters. Dante could very well be playing Ander,” Beckett mused, lighting a cigarette and offering me one.
“How can we find out?”
“We can’t know for sure until this plays out. You need to be careful, Raven. I know you’re forming some type of connection with Ander, but he could very easily get you killed with his own blindness. His trust in Dante is disturbing. Chances are high that Dante is playing along so when Ander makes a move, Dante can stab him in the back and give his father a heads up,” she warned as I lit my cigarette too, both of us smoking in silence for a moment before she changed the subject. “You told me you can fight, but I’ve still never seen proof of that. You hide behind the guys like a shield.”
“It was the truth. I just promised Reid I wouldn’t anymore,” I scoffed, and she raised an eyebrow at me.
“Prove it. You probably just pull hair and pray you get a lucky knee shot to their face. Those fights you mentioned were probably made up to make yourself look tough.”
“I don’t need to prove shit to you, Beckett.”
“Yeah, you do. I bet your hits are like wet cardboard.”
“I would’ve won if that bitch hadn’t pulled a fucking knife.”
“Bullshit. You got scared and started hiding. It’s nice to have people fight your battles for you and keep you safe, but what happens when they’re not there?” she asked, blowing smoke at me. “You end up locked in a room with two rapists climbing all over you.”
Her words stung, and I physically recoiled. “That’s not fair.”
“No? You’re lucky Lavaro slithered back to town and saved you. What would’ve happened if he didn’t? You would’ve been held down and raped for God knows how long. Did you know some people are held captive for days, months even, and raped for hours on end at a time?” she asked, nausea swimming in my stomach.
“Beckett, stop.”
“No one came to save them. They only had themselves, and they weren’t ready to fight,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken, tossing her cigarette in the ashtray as she stood. “We’ve seen the aftermath of that, you know? Women who are found beaten and bloody, their eyes dead of emotion and their bodies no longer feeling like their own. They gave up fighting before it even began. Is that what you would’ve done? Let them use your body for their own sick enjoyment because you felt so helpless?”
Angry tears pricked my eyes as flashbacks ran through my mind. I’d fought hard to try and escape. The reality though, was that I hadn’t been strong enough to save myself.
“You weren’t there. You don’t know shit,” I gritted out, and the grin she gave me pissed me the fuck off.
“You’re right, I wasn’t. You were though, and you waited until some kind of knight in shining armor came to your rescue because you’re a weak bitch.”
I got in her face, my cigarette falling to the cement floor. “Fuck you. I don’t need saving.”
“Look at you. You can’t even stand up for yourself against words. Get mad at me, Raven. You think you’re scary?” she chuckled, giving me a light shove back. “You’re nothing. No wonder Reid just saw you as your brother’s kid sister.”
My fist swung out and slammed into her cheek, the anger draining fast as I realized what I’d done.
I fucking punched Beckett Donovan.
“Fuck, Beckett. I’m sorry,” I choked out, confused when she laughed and rubbed her cheek with amusement.
“Damn, little Raven Pierce has some weight behind her punches. Go on, hit me again.”
“This is a trap and I don’t?—”
She shoved me again, making me stumble. “This is me proving you can’t hold your own. I’m no threat to you, but the monsters out there? They’d kill you in more ways than death. You want to see your friends die? Let people do what they want to your body because you can’t defend yourself? Is that why you were going to let Michael and Devon into your panties? You were too weak to say no?” I swung again, missing this time as she grabbed my wrist and twisted it behind me, pinning me uselessly to her front. “Your scrappy fist fights won’t mean shit when the mafia comes knocking. Neither will hiding behind other people.”
I slammed my heel down on her foot, dropping my body weight to try and get her to release her grip on me, and I winced as it worked but her leg came out and kicked me in the shoulder to make me fall forward to the ground.
“Um, ouch,” I scowled, rolling over to glare up at her. “Zav and Ander destroyed every muscle in my body last night. I don’t need this shit today.”
“Your tongue obviously still works since you keep making excuses,” she said dryly, offering me a hand to pull me to my feet. “I’m not even trying and you can’t beat me.”
“You’re not trying?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she deadpanned, picking up my dropped cigarette and putting it in the ashtray.
“I have no chance against trained professionals,” I grumbled, dusting myself off.
“Hate to break it to you, but all the people currently after you are trained. Just means you need training too. Get in the cage.”
“I knew this was a trap. You just wanted an excuse to beat me up.”
She rolled her eyes, motioning to the cage across the room. “Stop being a little bitch. I won’t beat you up, I’ll just show you some techniques. You want to prove to yourself that you don’t need the guys, right? This is how you do it.”
I glanced at the cage, hesitating before pulling Ander’s hoodie over my head and placing it on the bar with my phone and knife. She got tired of waiting for me to make my move, grabbing my wrist and tugging me behind her. I’d never stepped foot inside the cage before, but I knew a lot of people had lost their lives here.
It was a little daunting to think about.
“Alright. Show me your fighting stance,” she encouraged, groaning when I didn’t move. “This is going to be a long fucking day, isn’t it?”
“I don’t have a fighting stance. I don’t fight in a cage like you,” I huffed.
“Good stance keeps you balanced and helps you control the weight of your punches. Crash course in murder fists,” she grunted, showing me how to stand and waiting for me to copy her. “Good, at least you don’t tuck your thumbs in.”
“That’s one way to get a broken thumb. I’m not stupid.”
“You might not be, but a lot of people are.”
She showed me a few moves for basic defense, throwing a few attack moves in too. It felt like a chore at first, but by the end, I was drenched in sweat and having fun.
Thankfully, Beckett was sweaty too, so I didn’t look so bad.
She grabbed us both a bottle of water from behind the bar, offering one to me as she returned.
“You’re not a lost cause. You picked that up fast,” she offered lightly, making me grin.
“I told you I can handle myself.”
“You did. You’re rusty and your confidence is fucked. Practice, okay? Don’t listen to the guys if they tell you they can protect you. Do this for yourself. Don’t be the damsel, be the knight. I know the guys are worried about you getting hurt again, but you can’t live your life with that kind of fear,” she said seriously, downing some of her water before continuing. “Go get your knife.”
“Uh, we’re knife fighting now?”
“No. I want to see how you hold it.”
I humored her and slipped out of the cage to grab it, knowing she didn’t like how I held it from the way she frowned at me when I showed her.
“I’m holding the handle and the sharp part is aimed at you. How else does one hold a knife?” I asked in defeat when she didn’t say anything.
“Flip it around. No, don’t grab the blade,” she scoffed, grabbing it and putting it in my hand how she wanted. “Now if someone’s coming at you, you can slash better. Don’t poke holes, you want to aim to spill their guts all over their feet.”
It felt weird, but she knew what she was talking about.
She took it from my hands and stepped back, moving fast as she slashed the air a few times to show me. It definitely seemed better.
“Thanks for showing me this stuff,” I said sincerely. “I know it’s probably a pain in the ass.”
“Hey, getting to plot violence and murder is my favorite thing to do with my friends,” she insisted, handing my knife back. “If we’re hanging out, I’d prefer this than listening to you cry about boys.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled, knowing she was serious. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time. This was kind of fun.”
“At least you stopped whining.”
“I hate you,” I grumbled, and she flipped me off.
“Hate you too.”
A door opened, and Skeeter stepped out of what I assumed was the office. I had no idea he was even here.
“Sorry to break up your fun, but you need to leave, Raven.”
I took that as code for trouble was coming, so I climbed out of the cage and grabbed my things from the bar without asking questions, turning to Beckett as she appeared next to me. “Thanks for today.”
“I’m not done with you yet,” she said seriously. “I say we plan a fight for you. Not everyone in our cage on fight night is lethal. We have amateur hour kind of shit too.”
Skeeter snorted, crossing his arms to eye me. “Don’t listen to her. You’d get your ass handed to you. If what I just saw is your skill level, you’d be lucky to fight a corpse and win.”
“Working on it,” I huffed, amusement flashing across his face.
“I noticed. Invest in a punching bag or something before you try to take down the living. You suck, but it wasn’t as bad as I expected. You’ll get there.”
He seemed to have a silent conversation with Beckett for a second before he vanished into the office again, and Beckett headed outside with me and unlocked her car.
“Praise from Dad doesn’t come often unless he’s impressed,” Beckett said randomly, making me frown.
“That was praise? He said I suck.”
“If you were hopeless he wouldn’t have encouraged you to keep going. Out of most of my dads, Skeet is the harshest critic. It’s what made him a good mentor when I was training. You don’t get an award for showing up, you only get it if you earned it. It’s what turned my hands into weapons and pushed me to impress him.”
“I can’t imagine growing up with a parent who pushes you to thrive. My dad just couldn’t wait for me to grow up so he could pimp me out for money,” I said quietly as we got into her Mustang.
“My parents are proud of you,” she said, throwing me for a loop.
“What? Why? I didn’t do anything.”
“You don’t give up. You don’t turn your situation into your entire personality, and you keep wanting more for yourself. You know only you can change the life you lead. So many people in the Heights settle. Don’t come at me, but they do. They let the helplessness take hold, and they get hooked on drugs and alcohol to cope, pimping themselves out and continuing the cycle. You want out, so you’re trying to make it happen. None of your guys are hooked on drugs, you’re not exchanging sex for money, you hate handouts but you shove your pride down and accept it because you’re not an idiot, and you threw away the only friends you felt like you had because you didn’t deserve how they were treating you, even if that meant you’d be alone. You’re a fighter, Raven. Mom sees it, my dads see it, and I promise you that everyone else sees it too. Hold onto that flame inside you, and don’t let anyone snuff it out, okay?”
“You should write a book, you know? A Bad Bitches’ Guide to World Domination ,” I joked, wanting to hide how much her words had actually meant to me.
“I’ll keep that in mind for if my criminal career goes south,” she teased, starting the engine. “So, how about we wash up and go cause some trouble? Show me your stomping grounds.”