Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dragon
Seventeen years earlier…
I settle down onto the thin mattress, thankful to have made it through the first day. Well, half a day.
Until our door opens.
And a low voice speaks.
“We came to initiate the new meat.”
The voice is gravelly, like rocks tumbling down a steep incline. A silhouette fills the doorway, tall and broad, its edges blurred by the gloom of the hallway beyond. Zach doesn’t say anything, just throws a glance my way, a silent warning.
I sit up straighter, clenching my fists around the threadbare blanket. I can’t see clearly who it is in the half-light. Zach’s bristling at the intrusion is enough.
“Initiate?” I croak out, trying hard to keep my voice steady.
A laugh from the shadows makes my blood run cold.
“Yeah,” another voice says, this one higher-pitched and with a dangerous lilt to it. “Everyone goes through it. Even your buddy Zach here.”
I see them clearly now—their faces marked by harsh lines and cruel smiles.
Neither Mike nor Zach say anything, and the others in our room stay in bed, their eyes shut tight. Are they asleep? I don’t know.
Already I know they’re in self-protection mode.
Whatever is going to happen to me, they’ve already been through it. And they sure as hell don’t want to go through it again, so they’re keeping out of it.
“What do you want?” I demand, making my voice sound like my father’s used to when he was mad as hell at me for banging my drum too loud in the garage.
God, my dad. I try not to think about him. I last saw him five years ago in that courtroom when he and Mom gave me up. I was only eight.
I’m thirteen now. A man in some cultures.
But looking at these two big guys in my doorway, I know I’m no man. I’m a kid.
I got into some fights at the other group home. Sometimes I got my ass kicked. Other times I did the ass kicking. Nothing worse than a fat lip or a black eye ever happened to me, but there’s an evil gleam in the eyes of these guys.
I learned early on at the other place never to show fear.
I need to put that into practice right about now.
“Pipe down, boy,” one of them responds. His voice is a low growl, and his eyes, almost hidden in the shadows, glint with an unpleasant amusement. “We just want to give you the grand welcome.”
“Is that so?” I force a laugh out of my throat. It sounds harsher than I intend it to, but I can’t afford to show vulnerability. Not here. Not now. I harden my gaze as I look at them.
“Yeah, you better listen to Tully,” another one says with a humorless smirk. He’s smaller than the first one but still bigger than I am by a mile. “It’s a simple initiation. Nothing you can’t handle.”
He and Tully approach me slowly, each step echoing ominously in the room. They move like wild animals stalking prey. I’ve seen that on TV at the old home on Animal Planet.
I grip the blanket tighter, trying to keep myself steady. My only way out of this situation is through it, and that means I have to fight.
I jump down from the bunk, dropping the blanket onto the floor and standing tall. I’m not as big as they are, but another thing I learned at the other home is that I can use my size to my advantage.
“All right.” My heart pounds like a jackhammer. “I’m ready.”
Laughter breaks out from the shadows again, and I can only hope my voice doesn’t betray the terror that’s creeping up my spine.
“Good,” Tully grunts, cracking his knuckles.
His partner steps back, folding his arms across his chest and watching with a twisted smirk on his face.
With a lunge, Tully charges at me. It happens so quickly that I barely have time to react. But somehow, some way, I dodge his tackle at the last minute, stepping aside and letting him crash into the hard wall beside my bunk.
“Fuck you, you little pussy.” Tully groans.
Stunned silence fills the room, broken only by the heavy puffs of breath from the guy sprawled on the floor. My roommates, until then huddled in their own beds, are now watching.
“I’ll get him,” the other says.
“You better destroy him, Lewis.”
The smaller one—Lewis—steps forward, a murderous glare replacing his earlier smirk. He’s clearly not happy at how his friend ended up. This time, I brace myself for the attack, remembering a move I learned during a self-defense class at the previous home.
As he lunges towards me, his fist aimed for my head, I duck and sweep my leg low. He stumbles over it and lands with a grunt onto the cold floor.
My roommates gasp when he hits the ground. I’m panting, but the thrill of victory surges through me.
I did it.
I fought back.
And I won.
But no one cheers my triumph. The room is so silent now that you could hear a pin drop. Lewis and Tully, both still on the floor, look more surprised than hurt.
“Fuck, Dragon,” Zach hisses from his bed. “You just made things a lot worse for yourself.”
Present day…
Things can always get worse.
Things can get unimaginable.
Things can get downright hellish.
There’s a reason I told Diana I was sin.
That I could only take her to hell.
Because I’ve been to hell.
Part of me lives in hell every day.
I walk into the other room, leaving Diana on the bed with Teddy.
I wouldn’t mind cuddling with her myself, but I’ve got things to do. I call Alayna quickly.
“Yes, Alayna here.”
“It’s Dragon. I sent the money.”
“Great. Send me a screenshot of everything.”
“I’m on it.” I do as she asks quickly. “How soon will you have something for me?”
“Shouldn’t be too long. I’ve got a guy on my team who’s a master at this stuff.”
“So you’ll have a name and address for me?”
“I can’t make any guarantees, but I’m cautiously optimistic.”
“Good. Thanks, Alayna.”
“You got it. I’m on the road to Albuquerque now. Should get there by morning.”
“You’re driving all night?”
“With my partner, Brad Ness. We take turns.”
I pull up a map app on my phone. “Are you passing through Taos?”
“Yeah, we may pass through Taos. You want me to stop so we can meet face-to-face?”
Do I?
“No. We’ll meet eventually. Right now, Griffin is the main focus.”
“I agree. I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear from my colleague.”
“Got it.” I end the call.
I plug my phone into its charger, and then I head back into the other room to look in on Diana.
Her eyes are closed.
Good. She needs the sleep.
“You doing okay, boy?” I ask the dog.
Diana opens her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She sits up. “I wasn’t asleep. I’m not really tired.”
“I’d ask you what you talked to my mom about, but to tell you the truth”—I shake my head—“I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“I get it.”
What I really want is to fuck her silly. But she’s hurt. I can’t expect her to?—
“Come here, Dragon,” she says, her eyes heavy-lidded.
“What for?”
She smiles. “I think you know.”
“You’re cuddling with the dog.”
She pats the mattress. “There’s plenty of room for you on the other side of the bed.”
Okay. Weird. Is the dog going to watch us?
“Diana, we’ve been through this.”
She scoffs. “You know something, Dragon? I wasn’t sure I could tell you this. I’m not sure you’re ready to hear it. But I’m done giving a damn.” She closes her eyes for a moment, draws in a breath. Then she opens them and rises into a sitting position, her leg still elevated on the pillow.
She meets my gaze.
Her brown eyes are on fire.
“I’ve got something to say to you, and you’re going to sit here and listen to it.”
Fuck. I just told her I didn’t want to talk about my mother. I don’t really want to talk about Griffin right now either.
What the hell else could she possibly have to say?
I rub my forehead, push a stray piece of hair out of my eyes.
“Fine. What is it?”
“All right.” She swallows. “I’m just going to go right ahead and say it.”
“You don’t see me stopping you.” I sit down on the side of the bed.
Silence.
More silence.
Until finally?—
“I love you, Dragon.”
My body goes cold.
She didn’t just say that. Did she?
No one has ever said those words to me. Not since I was barely nine years old.
And I didn’t last hear them from my mother or my father.
No.
I last heard them from Griffin. My little sister. The little sister who adored me. Every time she put on those jammies and went to bed, she would come give me a hug and a kiss on my cheek. A slobbery five-year-old kiss that I would immediately wipe off.
Then she’d say, “I love you, Dragon.”
And I would say “I love you too, Griffin.”
She’d scramble off to bed, my mother following her, where she would read Griffin a story, and then lights out.
I love you, Dragon.
I hear the words in her little five-year-old voice.
Except it wasn’t Griffin who said them.
It was Diana.
Diana’s sweet and sultry voice.
Diana…who I love right back.
“You don’t have to say it back,” she says. “But you do need to acknowledge that I said it.”