Chapter 22
Donavan
I lay the knife on the table, reaching for the bottle of rubbing alcohol. His eyes dart back open as far as his injuries will allow, a rushed intake of breath echoing around the room.
He darts his gaze around the room, and I hate the way his eyes settle on her, as if she’s going to offer him a helping hand.
She hasn’t opened her mouth since I got back to work. Although it’s only been twenty minutes, I’ve done a lot of damage in that time, going as slowly as possible in an effort to find her breaking point. She hasn’t begged me to stop or asked for mercy for this man.
“He wants you to help him,” I taunt, looking back at Alani.
Her face isn’t pale like I’d expect it to be. She doesn’t look completely sick to her stomach, and I get the impression that any ailment she’s feeling right now is more an aftereffect of the shit this guy injected her with than disgust in what I’m doing.
“Don’t look at her,” I growl at him, hating even his eyes on her. “She can’t help you.”
“Won’t,” Alani corrects, and I swear to God she’s going to make me hard.
I wink at her, something so out of fucking character for me, but it pulls a half-smile from her lips.
“What were they planning on doing with her?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies, as if I didn’t follow his ass from one of Cortez’s compounds straight back to McAllen, where Alani has been working after quitting school a couple of months ago.
Cortez is floundering. A lot of his men jumped ship after the news of the compound getting raided circulated.
That’s the thing about Cerberus being involved in that job where Nash and Ayla were found.
They’re known for taking no prisoners. I don’t either, but what I do is small potatoes compared to what those guys do.
Plus, I’m just as likely to kill someone for cash as I am to save someone.
I’m not exactly picky about the jobs I take.
So long as the cash is green and untraceable, I’m all for it.
Since only the most loyal men and a handful of those needing work have stuck around, it’s been easier for us to track what they’ve been doing, especially after Cerberus took down a second compound connected to Raul Cortez two weeks ago.
I keep my eyes on Alani as I drag the knife over his collarbone. It’s close enough to his carotid to scare him but far enough away that it’s not going to actually kill him.
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.
She doesn’t hesitate at the door, reaching for the knob the second she’s within reach.
Whimpers and begging come from the man, and I have no doubt he thinks she’ll eventually help him. I’m guessing he’s never been more wrong.